H. G. Wells in 1932. Not a Fortean.
H. G. Wells is the towering figure in science fiction. Charles Fort is a source of Fortean ideas and plots. It is inevitable that they some times end up in the same histories. I do not get the sense that anyone mistakes Wells for a Fortean (the same cannot be said for the stridently anti-Fortean H. L. Mencken, who is often co-opted into the movement), but it seems best to reiterate the point: H. G. Wells was not a Fortean.
Even if he was honored by the Society.
H. G. Wells is the towering figure in science fiction. Charles Fort is a source of Fortean ideas and plots. It is inevitable that they some times end up in the same histories. I do not get the sense that anyone mistakes Wells for a Fortean (the same cannot be said for the stridently anti-Fortean H. L. Mencken, who is often co-opted into the movement), but it seems best to reiterate the point: H. G. Wells was not a Fortean.
Even if he was honored by the Society.
There is little point in repeating Wells’s biographical information. It is widely available. He was 53 by the time Fort’s first book came out, in 1919, and already internationally known and respected. He was well liked by early Forteans. Kenneth Rexroth, for example, considered his “The Research Magnificent” something of a vase mecum. Not long after he helped found the Fortean Society, Alexander Woollcott was on-and-on about Wells’s “The Science of Life.” Wells strongly influenced the writings of Harry Leon Wilson, though, in his dotage Wilson came to see many weaknesses in Wells’s works. And, of course, all the science-fiction-writing Forteans had connections to Wells, too.
It was an obvious choice, then, for Theodore Dreiser to send a copy of Fort’s “Lo!” to Wells (as well as “Book of the Damned.”). This was in 1931. Dreiser had championed Fort since Fort was writing short stories about tenement life in New York, and was blown away when Fort moved on to his comic philosophies of science. He was swept up with the enthusiasm to honor Fort by founding a society in his honor, and became the first president. The Fortean Society was founded to publicize “Lo!”—Fort’s triumphant return to publishing after an eight-year hiatus caused, in part, by declining eyesight.
Wells was not impressed:
“Dear Dreiser,
I’m having Fort’s “Book of the Damned” sent back to you. Fort seems to be one of the most damnable bores who ever cut scraps from out of the way newspapers. I thought they were facts. And he writes like a drunkard.
“Lo!” has been sent to me but has gone into my wastepaper basket. And what do you mean by forcing ‘orthodox science’ to do this or that? Science is a continuing exploration and how in the devil can it have an orthodoxy? The next thing you’ll be writing is the ‘dogmas of science’ like some blasted Roman Catholic priest on the defensive. When you tell a Christian you don’t believe some yarn he can’t prove, he always calls you ‘dogmatic.’ Scientific workers are first rate stuff and very ill paid and it isn’t for the likes of you and me to heave Forts at them.
God dissolve (and forgive) your Fortean Society. Yours,
H. G. Wells.”
Dreiser wrote back indignantly, but to no end.
There is a slight postscript. The Fortean Society almost died right after it’s first meeting, but was revived in 1936 by its Secretary, Tiffany Thayer. He put out a magazine and tried, occasionally, to organize Forteana, with various levels of membership and honor. Pamphlets advertising the Society laid these out, including what Thayer called “Non-Member Named Fellows.” These were—at least as Thayer explained the idea in the 1940s and 1950s—people who embodied and acted out what he thought of as Fortean values. Supposedly, later Named Fellows were nominated and voted upon by Society members generally—this was how Thayer explained the process, but the only evidence to support it is that Albert Einstein was once a Named Fellow, though Thayer was far from a fan of his.
Wells was the second Named Fellow (after Carl van Doren), in 1932. Aside from all the other reasons that make understanding the Named Fellows relationship to the Society difficult, Wells’s award comes with an added difficulty: what exactly constituted the Society in 1932? Fort had died. Thayer had lit out for Hollywood. Dreiser had gone walkabout. Other Founding Members would recount that they had not been contacted about the Society after its own and only meeting, in January 1931. So who chose Wells? Why? And when? Presumably the choice was made by Thayer—but it need not have been made in 1932. Rather he could have retroactively made the choice, when he was, later, trying to give the Society a continuity it otherwise lacked.
In the case of later Named Fellows, the honor was supposed to go to some non-member who did something Fortean within that calendar year. Was that the case for (possibly retroactively named) early Named Fellows? In 1932 Wells published a novel, “The Bulpington of Blup”; a pamphlet, “What Should be Done—Now: A Memorandum on the World Situation”; and a collection of essays and talks, “After Democracy.” Perhaps Thayer found some comment in these he thought worthy of honoring. Using later nominees as a guide, it could have been a stray comment, or something that made the papers—other nominees were often only known through some news article. In July, Wells criticized the King for hurting the poor—perhaps that was it?
At any rate, it was the last, and only tenuous, connection between Wells and the Society he wanted dissolved before it had even been founded.
It was an obvious choice, then, for Theodore Dreiser to send a copy of Fort’s “Lo!” to Wells (as well as “Book of the Damned.”). This was in 1931. Dreiser had championed Fort since Fort was writing short stories about tenement life in New York, and was blown away when Fort moved on to his comic philosophies of science. He was swept up with the enthusiasm to honor Fort by founding a society in his honor, and became the first president. The Fortean Society was founded to publicize “Lo!”—Fort’s triumphant return to publishing after an eight-year hiatus caused, in part, by declining eyesight.
Wells was not impressed:
“Dear Dreiser,
I’m having Fort’s “Book of the Damned” sent back to you. Fort seems to be one of the most damnable bores who ever cut scraps from out of the way newspapers. I thought they were facts. And he writes like a drunkard.
“Lo!” has been sent to me but has gone into my wastepaper basket. And what do you mean by forcing ‘orthodox science’ to do this or that? Science is a continuing exploration and how in the devil can it have an orthodoxy? The next thing you’ll be writing is the ‘dogmas of science’ like some blasted Roman Catholic priest on the defensive. When you tell a Christian you don’t believe some yarn he can’t prove, he always calls you ‘dogmatic.’ Scientific workers are first rate stuff and very ill paid and it isn’t for the likes of you and me to heave Forts at them.
God dissolve (and forgive) your Fortean Society. Yours,
H. G. Wells.”
Dreiser wrote back indignantly, but to no end.
There is a slight postscript. The Fortean Society almost died right after it’s first meeting, but was revived in 1936 by its Secretary, Tiffany Thayer. He put out a magazine and tried, occasionally, to organize Forteana, with various levels of membership and honor. Pamphlets advertising the Society laid these out, including what Thayer called “Non-Member Named Fellows.” These were—at least as Thayer explained the idea in the 1940s and 1950s—people who embodied and acted out what he thought of as Fortean values. Supposedly, later Named Fellows were nominated and voted upon by Society members generally—this was how Thayer explained the process, but the only evidence to support it is that Albert Einstein was once a Named Fellow, though Thayer was far from a fan of his.
Wells was the second Named Fellow (after Carl van Doren), in 1932. Aside from all the other reasons that make understanding the Named Fellows relationship to the Society difficult, Wells’s award comes with an added difficulty: what exactly constituted the Society in 1932? Fort had died. Thayer had lit out for Hollywood. Dreiser had gone walkabout. Other Founding Members would recount that they had not been contacted about the Society after its own and only meeting, in January 1931. So who chose Wells? Why? And when? Presumably the choice was made by Thayer—but it need not have been made in 1932. Rather he could have retroactively made the choice, when he was, later, trying to give the Society a continuity it otherwise lacked.
In the case of later Named Fellows, the honor was supposed to go to some non-member who did something Fortean within that calendar year. Was that the case for (possibly retroactively named) early Named Fellows? In 1932 Wells published a novel, “The Bulpington of Blup”; a pamphlet, “What Should be Done—Now: A Memorandum on the World Situation”; and a collection of essays and talks, “After Democracy.” Perhaps Thayer found some comment in these he thought worthy of honoring. Using later nominees as a guide, it could have been a stray comment, or something that made the papers—other nominees were often only known through some news article. In July, Wells criticized the King for hurting the poor—perhaps that was it?
At any rate, it was the last, and only tenuous, connection between Wells and the Society he wanted dissolved before it had even been founded.
