The Day of the Triffids described a scenario in which most
of the world's population are blinded after watching an unexpected meteorite
display the night before. Capitalising on this enormous advantage, large,
deadly plants called Triffids converge in their thousands in an attempt
to unseat mankind as the dominant species on the planet. Slow but nevertheless
extremely dangerous, the plants attempt to take advantage of their incapacitated
human adversaries by lashing out with highly toxic stingers from which
there is little chance of escape. The story follows the progress of
scientist, Bill Masen and his attempt to find a way of defeating the
terrible menace before the plants take over the world.
Having already dealt with apocalyptic themes in books like Blood
Crazy and King Blood, Clark was familiar with portraying
wide scale disaster and its wide-ranging consequences. Which made him
the ideal choice of person to write about what might have happened if,
twenty-five years later, Bill Masen's son, David had formed a new colony
on The Isle of Wight - one which attempts to lay the foundations of
a new society as well as trying to eradicate the Triffid menace. Suddenly
one morning the grown-up Masen awakes to find that all the light has
been bleached from the world. Now he faces the biggest challenge of
his life so far: How to defeat the highly dangerous marauding plants,
in the dark with much of the world's population blind and helpless.
What happens next makes for one of the most entertaining novels of recent
years…
I wondered at which point Clark's admiration for The Day of the
Triffids coalesced into an ambition to write the sequel. Did he
receive the official backing of the Wyndham family estate? 'It was probably
around three years ago that I had the idea,' says the author. 'I'd travelled
by train to Bath through the pouring rain. It had been an odyssey as
much as a journey. Flooded railway lines held up trains; overflowing
rivers drowned towns; then the express train was hit by a bird, causing
so much damage we had to stop for repairs. Wyndham was near obsessed
by the fragility of civilisation - that it doesn't take much for it
all to start unravelling. Brits only have to think back to the petrol
blockades of few months ago when the filling stations ran dry. On the
train I started thinking about The Day of the Triffids; what
a hell of a book! And as ideas do a sudden thought took me by surprise:
why don't I continue the story of the Triffids and the little band of
survivors on the Isle of Wight? To cut a long story short I approached
the Wyndham estate, and after reading the completed manuscript they
gave their approval.'
There have been a number of books and films in the last few years
which cover disaster scenarios. Several of Clark's own novels have dealt
with the apocalyptic theme. Does he think the appeal is due to the proximity
of the Millennium - or is it perhaps down to a resurgence of 50s nuclear
mutation monster flicks like Godzilla?
'Call me obsessed, but I've always had a passion for the apocalyptic
story; such as Shute's On The Beach which scared me witless as
a kid. Then there were the Wyndham and John Christopher novels, and
Terry Nation's TV series Survivors. These and others got into
my blood. When I started writing novels the disaster scenarios came
into my head and refused to budge until I wrote them down. As for their
appeal, you could speculate endlessly about some kind of post World
War 2 trauma that we still haven't recovered from, or the Millennium,
or the "we're-doomed" stories that the press batter us with relentlessly.
But perhaps deep down we're only too aware of not only our own mortality
but that of mighty nations, too. In a hundred AD Roman citizens couldn't
believe their empire would ever collapse but just a few generations
later: Goodnight Vienna. Or should that be goodnight Ravenna? The British
Empire was bigger but probably vanished even faster. Maybe we sense
that apocalypse might just be around the corner. Like Jung said: "Coming
events cast their shadows before."'
What is it that makes Triffids so compelling? Is it because most plants
are inanimate (and hence unthreatening) - or is it more primal than
that? Perhaps the combination of plant physicality and animal awareness;
the 'unnatural-ness' of a moving, stinging, killing plant? A subconscious
fear that harmless plant life can suddenly turn on humans, even become
the aggressors…
'Arthur Machen said evil could only be identified by its "unatural-ness"
- his examples were that if your dog talked to you that was evil; the
same could be said if roses sang as you walked in the garden or if the
stones beneath your feet started to bleed. Stinging
plants aren't that rare of course but walking, talking, possibly intelligent
plants are something else. In the original Triffids novel Wyndham did
introduce the plant as a quirky, bovine plant that would be grown for
its oil; suburban gardeners cultivated examples at home. So perhaps
you have a few elements that are rolled together by Wyndham to create
the compelling monster. Firstly its "unatural-ness" and secondly that
this normally safe, domesticated plant became man's destroyer.
'There has been a lingering belief in folklore and even science that
plants aren't what we expect. That they have something "up their sleeves."
Darwin's son, Francis, lectured on this at the Royal Society where he
was president, stating that: "It is impossible to know whether or not
plants are conscious; but it is consistent with the doctrine of continuity
that in all living things there is something psychic, and if we accept
this point of view we must believe that in plants there exists a faint
copy of what we know as consciousness in ourselves." Of course, does
this mean that every time we mow the lawn we become mass-murderers?
Maybe not, but if you did hear an apple scream every time you bit into
it, it might blunt your appetite somewhat.'
The style of The Night of the Triffids is very much in the
'golden age pulp' tradition. More action-adventure than SF or horror.
In terms of style, it's also significantly different than Clark's earlier
books. Were there any particular 50s/60s novels or writers that influenced
him during the writing of the novel?
'Yes, it does differ from books such as Blood Crazy and Darkness
Demands by a country mile. When I was getting into character to
write The Night of the Triffids I went on a reading spree of
50s fiction. John Wyndham of course with a good sprinkling of John Christopher
and some mainstream by the likes of Leo Walmsley and H.E. Bates. After
this reading I worked on fusing a 50s style with my own style to create
something of a hybrid. One that I'd be comfortable writing rather than
slavish pastiche.'
Night of the Triffids can be read as a good old-fashioned adventure
yarn. Yet as in books like Gulliver's Travels or Animal Farm
there is also a subtext, one that deals with themes such as overcrowding
and overpopulation. The book also allowed Clark to examine exploitation
of certain factions of society, the slum areas and genetic manipulation.
A deliberate move?
'Hell, yes,' he responds. 'Though I was aiming for a good old-fashioned
adventure yarn first and foremost. Always, always, always I intend to
write a story that entertains. Of course, along the way I do draw in
other threads that might be described as parable or a metaphor for something
else. In the past some have described my work as subversive … something
that makes me chuckle (in a Vincent Price kind of way, of course!).
I think all fiction does contain a subtext, only any author worth his
salt shouldn't know what it is. That's for later generations to interpret.'
One of the reasons Clark's post-1950 'Triffid society' is so intriguing
is because it's as
fictitious as its plant aggressors. Writing about a world overrun with
killer plants required that the author extrapolate from the 50s to present
day, taking into account a civilisation deprived of the opportunity
to develop relevant technology. The mother houses - places whose sole
purpose is to re-populate humankind - are certainly a novel way of solving
the population problem! Furthermore, the Triffid threat is turned to
society's advantage - conversion into food, fuel etc. Thus some good
emerges from the devastation…
'That was certainly an interesting part of writing the book,' reflects
Clark, 'imagining what society would be like if "civilisation" had collapsed
in 1950. The Isle of Wight being the only substantial part of Britain,
indeed the British Empire, to survive. I imagined that the survivors
would have fiercely clung onto some of the old social patterns and customs.
I imagined that cricket would still be played on the village green,
that the pub culture would have remained intact with a few pints of
beer downed on a Friday night with the usual pub talk and games of darts.
Some elements of culture would have fossilised. There wouldn't be new
gramophone recordings and no new films but people would still play their
Noel Coward and Arthur Askey records and they'd still have a night out
at the pictures. Even though the John Wayne or Will Hay flick would
have been something they'd seen dozens of times before.
'And yet societies under pressure respond in a dynamic way; they have
to or they go under. One of the key problems I saw facing the survivors
would be the sheer lack of human beings. This would be a greater threat
to survival even than the Triffid menace. In the past, societies that
were confronted with populations dwindling or not growing fast enough
developed novel remedies, such as banning contraception, rewarding parents
who produced big families, the infamous Nazi "twinning" programmes,
or even simply raiding their neighbours on mass kidnapping raids of
children and women of child-bearing age. The Mother Houses in The
Night of the Triffids are a kind of near-monastic community created
for the sole purpose of the unmarried women who've formed them to produce
as many children as possible. As for the Triffids being processed for
fuel, food and so on this was a return to Wyndham's idea that the triffids
were originally a bovine plant that were to be "milked" of their precious
oils. I also liked the idea of having to use something that is feared
and despised for the benefit of humankind. Something that humans must
have faced throughout their history, right from harnessing fire to nuclear
energy. It seems all our assets have this "monkey's paw" syndrome and
can be as much a curse on us as a benefit. Anyone burning his or her
fingers baking an apple pie, or faced with mopping out a flooded home
due to global warming can testify to that one.'
Despite the obviously dark (though thankfully, not unredeemable) character
of Torrence and his henchmen, the book's overall mood is fairly positive.
People grouping together against overwhelming adversity; Bill Mason's
generally optimistic outlook (seemingly unshakeable, and conversely
made stronger by his discovery of the awful slum areas of the US); the
rebel good guys. The narrative doesn't dwell on the negative. Even the
blind community have adapted.
'In my fiction I relish throwing terrible disasters and seemingly
insurmountable problems at my characters. Then I sit back and see how
they climb out of that particular hole. Which is the basis of most fiction
when you come to think about it. And yes, it does reflect my own personal
beliefs that human beings are capable of overcoming adversity. Of course,
they might do it in a terrible way. In famines people have been forced
to eat their own children; in wars commanders have resorted to nightmarish
practices to win battles. But then ordinary people have become heroes
when faced with the direst of straits, so my outlook on the human race
is optimistic.'
Are there any further sequels planned? Or is The Night of the Triffids
meant to be self-contained?
'I enjoyed writing The Night of the Triffids,' says Clark.
'It was a real pleasure to be able to continue the story. I never intended
the novel to be completely self-contained but I've heard from some readers
that they enjoyed it even though they've never read the original Wyndham
novel.
'Coming in January, 2002, is the unabridged audio version of The
Night of the Triffids, running to more than twelve hours, which
I can't wait to hear. As for what's next on the agenda: I've just delivered
a novel to Leisure, entitled Stranger. After that, I'm starting
on a new horror novel for Hodder & Stoughton. I've spent a long time
thinking about the execution of this one and intend to use a whole raft
of new techniques I've been developing. I want the reader to be able
to pick up the book and be drawn into a whole new reading experience.'
Originally appeared in Prism, the British Fantasy Society Newsletter,
Spring 2002.
