The War of the Wenuses

In Short

This brief, spirited 1898 spoof parodies H.G. Wells’s The War of the Worlds, swapping terrifying Martian invaders for glamorous women from Venus. Crashing into London inside giant crinolines, these celestial fashionistas instantly paralyze the male population with their lethal "Mash-Glance." Written by C.L. Graves and E.V. Lucas, the narrative follows a absurdly self-absorbed narrator as he stumbles through a collapsing metropolis. The book endures as a sharp, delightfully absurd period piece that mocks late-Victorian gender anxieties, journalistic fluff, and the era's emerging science fiction crazes with unflagging comedic precision.

The Story

The story begins with a stern warning: humanity is completely oblivious to the looming threat from space. Across the cosmos, the glamorous women of Venus look upon London’s high-end department stores—like Whiteley’s and Peter Robinson’s—with deep envy and scheme an interstellar takeover. The narrator, an intensely self-important man given to useless scientific pursuits, first observes the anomaly while gazing through a syphon alongside his astronomer friend, Swears. Soon after, a massive projectile styled like a giant crinoline crashes into Kensington Gardens.

Curious onlookers, street vendors, and local tradesmen gather around the fallen vessel. The crinoline quickly expands, bursts open, and releases a wave of stunning, ultra-fashionable "Wenuses." Equipped with W-shaped mouths, fluttering eyelids, and inflated glove-like hands, the invaders launch their offensive. When a male deputation attempts to negotiate, the Wenuses deploy their devastating weapon: the "Mash-Glance." At a single seductive look, men instantly collapse into gelatinous, protoplasmic masses. The narrator survives only because his wife steps in front of him, as the ray proves entirely ineffective against earthly women.

As the Wenuses march through London, men across the city abandon their duties and wives, helplessly drawn toward the invaders. The narrator flees through a chaotic series of neighborhoods, pausing to eat petroleum soap in a chemist’s shop and bargaining with paperboys for sensational news updates. He eventually returns to his house in Campden Hill Gardens, where he disguises himself in his wife’s bicycle skirt, a borrowed bonnet, and an old evening wrap to remain immune to the invaders' charms. When a second crinoline lands directly in his back garden, he attempts to communicate with the visitors using falsetto songs, only to be interrupted by a pedantic Classical Examiner who dies in his hallway.

The narrator escapes on a runaway motor car, crashes near Uxbridge Road Station, and encounters a rambling Artilleryman underground. The soldier outlines a bizarre survival strategy involving living in sewers, playing cricket, and reading specific books. Meanwhile, the narrator’s wife organizes a counter-army of women, misogynists, and purebred dogs to lay siege to the Wenuses at Whiteley’s department store. The plan collapses when the invaders present the starved women with tea-trays, causing the defenders to surrender to temptation. Ultimately, the narrator tracks the last of the Wenuses to a soap factory, where he watches them float away in giant bubbles. Reunited with his wife, he is instantly brought back to reality with a cuff on the ear.

How It Unfolds

The sky gives warning A strange, expanding light appears in the night sky, noticed only by the absurd astronomer Swears and an unheeding public distracted by cheap jokes and everyday chores. The narrator rides a bicycle with his wife while pointing out constellations every time she tumbles off her machine.

The crinoline lands A gigantic vessel resembling a crinoline crashes into Kensington Gardens, drawing a crowd of street peddlers, curious citizens, and baffled police officers. Believing a horse is trapped inside the hissing structure, Swears runs off to notify the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

The visitors strike The crinoline expands and bursts open, revealing breathtakingly glamorous women from Venus who dazzle the gathered crowds. When the men approach, the invaders unleash their "Mash-Glance," instantly liquefying the male bystanders into piles of protoplasm while leaving the outraged human women completely unharmed.

A desperate flight The narrator traverses a panicked London, encountering chaos, inflated newspaper prices, and men abandoning their homes to follow the invaders. To survive his journey back to Campden Hill Gardens, he eats petroleum soap in a deserted shop and sleeps in a cab shelter.

Disguise and discovery Safely home, the narrator dons his wife's bicycle skirt and a cook's bonnet to shield himself from the lethal glances. When a second landing occurs in his back garden, he attempts to serenade the alien women, only for the encounter to end in the sudden death of an intruding examiner.

The tea-tray trap The narrator's wife leads a regiment of women to confront the invaders at a department store, hoping to crush the threat once and for all. Instead, the invaders offer them afternoon tea on attractive trays, completely neutralizing the female army's resolve.

The final ascension The narrator follows a strange, echoing siren call to a soap works near the river, where he discovers the remaining Wenuses floating heavenward inside fragile soap bubbles. His wife suddenly appears with a group of survivors, putting an abrupt end to his romantic daydreaming.

The People

• The Narrator (Pozzuoli): A pompous, self-described "indivisible man" and pseudo-scientist who approaches an alien invasion with absurd academic detachment. He wants to study the invaders objectively while avoiding his domestic responsibilities, but he constantly gives in to foolish distractions, ends up fleeing in women's clothing, and ultimately yields to his wife's authority.
• The Narrator's Wife: A practical, firm-minded woman who has no patience for her husband's antics or the alien invaders. She wants to maintain control over her household, protect her foolish husband from destruction, and eradicate the competition posed by the alien women, ending the book as the dominant figure over her humbled spouse.
• Swears: An eccentric astronomer and tenant who spends his nights making volatile observations from a basement observatory. Driven by a desire to decipher the skies, his hot temper and hasty misinterpretations set the chaotic events into motion.
• The Artilleryman: An untutored, rambling soldier who uses high-sounding pseudo-intellectual jargon to explain the invasion. He wants to survive by hiding in the city sewers, playing cricket, and reading specific literature, completely overwhelming the narrator with his bizarre, unearned confidence.

In Its Own Voice

"No one would have believed in the first years of the twentieth century that men and modistes on this planet were being watched by intelligences greater than woman's and yet as ambitious as her own."

The narrative immediately establishes its spoof of H.G. Wells by replacing cosmic dread with fashion rivalry.

"The ground for some distance was littered with the bodies of the mashed; I alone among men stood erect, my conscious companions being a sprinkling of women, pictures of ungovernable fury."

The narrator describes the aftermath of the invaders' lethal charm weapon, highlighting the starkly different reactions of male victims and female onlookers.

"Arrayed in feminine garb I could remain immune to their malignant influences."

Desperate to continue his scientific observations, the narrator defends his decision to navigate the ruined city wearing his wife's clothing.

What It's Really About

Behind its wild slapstick, the narrative acts as a sharp satire on the cultural anxieties of late Victorian England. It pokes fun at the sensational science fiction popularized at the turn of the century, turning apocalyptic terror into an absurd battle of the sexes. By replacing terrifying space monsters with impossibly stylish women who conquer men through flirtation and defeat women with afternoon tea, the book mocks period stereotypes regarding domestic dynamics, female emancipation, and consumer culture. The text also takes frequent jabs at contemporary journalism, publishing trends, and academic pretensions, suggesting that society's self-importance is far more ridiculous than any threat from outer space.

Why Read It Today

The War of the Wenuses offers a fast, genuinely funny glimpse into late-19th-century British humor. Modern readers who enjoy literary parodies, Victorian satire, or the works of H.G. Wells will appreciate how cleverly the authors mirror the structure, tone, and specific scenes of The War of the Worlds. The book moves at a frantic pace, packed with wordplay, exaggerated panic, and ridiculous domestic squabbles.

It does, however, present a few mild difficulties for the contemporary reader. The prose relies heavily on turn-of-the-century cultural references, mentioning specific London department stores, obsolete fashion items like crinolines, and period journalists whose fame has long since faded. Readers unfamiliar with 1890s London geography or Wells's original text might miss some of the subtle jokes. Furthermore, the narrative leanly relies on broad gender caricatures typical of Victorian comic writing. Despite these dated elements, the book remains an entertaining historical curiosity that proves parody and sci-fi have been closely linked since the genre's earliest days.