Boon, The Mind of the Race, The Wild Asses of the Devil, and The Last Trump;: Being a First Selection from the Literary Remains of George Boon, Appropriate to the Times

In Short

This book is a collection of "literary remains"—the scattered, posthumous papers of a fictional, brilliant, and eccentric writer named George Boon. Edited by his associate Reginald Bliss, the text weaves together dialogues, aborted novel drafts, and philosophical treatises. It is a cynical yet deeply earnest interrogation of the "Mind of the Race," attempting to understand why literature and intellect so often fail to prevent human catastrophe. It remains a vital, if messy, record of a mind wrestling with the vanity of the Edwardian era.

The Story

The narrative centers on the fictional George Boon, a famous, well-to-do author living in a pleasant seaside villa. Boon is an intellectual firebrand who spends his days in a garden, surrounded by a small circle of friends, debating the state of global culture. His obsession is the "Mind of the Race"—the idea that humanity possesses a collective, evolving consciousness that writers and thinkers have a sacred duty to nurture.

The story is not a linear progression but a series of intellectual skirmishes. Boon and his companions critique the sterility of contemporary literature, famously lampooning the dense, intricate style of Henry James and the "Teutonic" pretensions of nationalistic scholarship. Boon is convinced that the intellectual class has grown lethargic and detached, filling the world with "paper scraps" while the real world burns.

As the Great War looms and then erupts, the atmosphere of the book darkens. The debates become more desperate. Boon is visited by a "stoker"—a miserable, demonic figure who represents the chaotic, destructive forces of the world, which Boon calls the "Wild Asses of the Devil." These forces threaten to trample all human beauty and intellect. The struggle to contain them becomes the central metaphor for the writer’s purpose.

The arc concludes with the "Story of the Last Trump," a final, chilling fragment written by Boon. In this vision, a child in Heaven finds a trumpet and blows it, causing a moment of divine revelation to flash across the earth. Ordinary people, politicians, and preachers are momentarily frozen, forced to confront the absolute reality of judgement. The vision is fleeting and terrifying; the world returns to its path of violence and misunderstanding.

In the aftermath, the narrator, Reginald Bliss, reflects on the death of his friend and the failure of their lofty ideals. He admits his own insignificance, yet finds a grim, necessary purpose in continuing to write. He concludes that even if writers are small and feeble, they must persist in the "great task of literature"—to organize the aimless, tame violence, and hunt the Wild Asses back to hell. The book ends on a note of mourning, with Bliss wishing that Boon had been able to envision a more hopeful conclusion for the human race.

How It Unfolds

The intellectual retreat The story opens in a seaside garden where the protagonist, George Boon, holds court with his associates. They debate the nature of literature and the decline of serious thought in a world obsessed with superficial fame.

The critique of the masters Boon launches into a sharp, satirical takedown of his contemporaries, specifically Henry James, whose writing he characterizes as a "magnificent but painful hippopotamus" struggling to pick up trivial peas. This section establishes the book’s abrasive, mocking tone toward literary pretension.

The visitation of the Devil Boon encounters a "stoker," a dejected devil who confesses to unleashing "Wild Asses" of chaos and mischief upon the world. This encounter shifts the book from a literary critique to an allegory about the uncontrollable nature of modern conflict.

The call to arms Moved by the encroaching darkness of the war, Boon attempts to rally his friends to transform the "Mind of the Race" into a force for order. He moves from being a detached observer to an urgent, if ineffective, prophet of cultural reform.

The final judgment The narrative culminates in the "Story of the Last Trump," where divine truth momentarily shatters the mundane illusions of the world. This surreal climax forces every character to face the vanity of their own lives and the hollowness of their public roles.

The People

George Boon is the energetic, often irritable center of the book. He is a man of "rosy rotundities" and intellectual vanity who possesses a genuine, if tortured, desire to elevate human consciousness. He ultimately dies disillusioned by the war's destruction.

Reginald Bliss acts as the book’s narrator and literary executor. He is a self-described "uncreative, unimportant man" who spends his time sorting through Boon’s papers. He serves as the bridge between the reader and Boon’s chaotic brilliance, providing the emotional glue that holds the disparate fragments together.

Wilkins and Dodd are members of Boon’s circle who act as foils. Wilkins provides a sense of "realistic sentimentality," often trying to find a silver lining in the war, while Dodd is the skeptic, constantly pushing back against Boon’s grand theories with a pragmatic, often biting realism that keeps the debates grounded.

The Stoker is an enigmatic, miserable devil who wanders into the story. He is not a mustache-twirling villain, but a tired, ignorant creature who is essentially a pawn of the "Wild Asses." He represents the fundamental human inability to control the destructive forces we set in motion.

In Its Own Voice

"The Mind of the Race, these great Over-minds, these race minds, share nothing of the cyclic fate of the individual life; there is no birth for them, no pairing and breeding, no inevitable death."

Boon defines his central, mystical theory about a collective human intelligence that transcends individual mortal struggles.

"It is leviathan retrieving pebbles; it is a magnificent but painful hippopotamus resolved at any cost, even at the cost of its dignity, upon picking up a pea which has got into a corner of its den."

Boon uses this memorable image to criticize the convoluted, overly meticulous prose style of Henry James.

"We bring our little thoughts as the priest brings a piece of common bread to consecration, and though we have produced but a couplet or a dozen lines of prose, we have nevertheless done the parallel miracle."

The author describes the act of writing as a sacred, sacramental duty that connects the individual to the "thinking divinity" of the race.

What It's Really About

At its core, the book is a meditation on the failure of the intellectual class to influence history. It asks whether literature has any real power to tame the "Wild Asses" of human violence, or if thinkers are merely "old gentlemen out of the hurly-burly." It explores the tension between the "Mind of the Race"—a potentially divine collective consciousness—and the messy, often incoherent reality of political and economic forces. By juxtaposing the vanity of literary fame against the backdrop of a world at war, the book argues that while the intellectual project is ultimately fragile and perhaps doomed to fail, the act of attempting to "express" truth remains a necessary, almost religious, human imperative.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy meta-fiction, literary satire, or the intellectual energy of early 20th-century British writing will find this a fascinating, if challenging, document. It feels like a precursor to modern postmodern experiments; it is self-aware, fragmented, and intentionally difficult. The book does not offer a smooth, conventional narrative, which may frustrate readers looking for a traditional story. Instead, it provides a raw glimpse into the mindset of a generation watching its world be dismantled by war.

You will encounter period-specific attitudes that feel distant, and the satirical references to figures like Henry James and the "Teutonic" racial theories of the time require some patience. However, the warmth of the narrator’s admiration for his friend and the haunting, surreal quality of the final section make it more than just a dry historical curiosity. It stays with you as a poignant reminder of the "reasonless hope" that writers cling to when the world grows "chilly and lonely." It is a testament to the idea that even when civilization seems to be collapsing into "blood and dirt," the simple, stubborn act of writing is the only way to search for meaning.