The Chrysalids

I wanted to mull this one overnight. I remember being absorbed in [The Day of the Triffids] as a teenager and if I had read this then I would have been just as absorbed. I was - - almost. Here the story is not invaders and the larger part of the population handicapped with blindness, but a look, after self-annihilation, at humans on the verge of a major evolutionary change, telepathy. Here you have strong storytelling and great descriptions and intelligent courageous women with strong roles to play (impressive for 1955) . . . The culture, very rigid and religious, is built around physical "perfection" -- so that even small deviations, extra toes, unusual height -- genetic variants that happen naturally -- are regarded as against God's show more laws for humans, his favorites. Those with flaws are sent to the Fringes where the radiation has abated and life can go on. Our protagonist has an invisible difference, telepathy as do a few others in his neighborhood. The trouble begins in earnest when his little sister apparently has mindpowers exponentially stronger than the others in their group -- she is also too young to understand the dangers involved and they are, ultimately, found out and must run away. The feeling is similar to that in Atwood's [The Handmaid's Tale]. Unquestionably somewhat dated (it's awfully white and while women are strong and intelligent, the descriptive sexism, all unconscious on Wyndham's part, made me squirm.) Wyndham's message is a good one, totally relevant, and also timely. You can't stop change and any attempt to turn back the clock is indicative of a moribund cultural viewpoint that is doomed to cause suffering and ultimately fail. That sounds about right! When will we ever learn? ****1/2 show less

Brian Aldiss is supposed to have coined the term cozy catastrophe to cover John Wyndham's books, but I've never been able to see anything cozy about The Chrysalids, which is my favourite of all Wyndham's books and one of my overall favourite reads from my teenage years. Set in a much warmer Labrador of the far future after a nuclear holocaust has engulfed the world, it depicts an agrarian society where mutations (clearly caused by the high radiation levels) are common. But having no understanding of radiation, and very little understanding of the civilisation that preceded them, people have interpreted its destruction as 'Tribulation' sent by God to punish an evil world. And the only way to prevent tribulation from revisiting them is to show more root out all mutations, whether human, animal or plant, which depart in any way from the norms laid down by their forefathers. No matter how human a mutant might look, no matter how small might be their departure from the norm, they are merely soulless copies sent by the devil to tempt humans away from the true path laid down for them by God.

Into this world comes David Strorm: seemingly born to a secure life as the only son of a prosperous farmer who owns the biggest farm in the district. But his father is also strict in his persecution of mutants, strict to the point of bigotry some would say, and as the young David realises that he is different from virtually all others around him, even though apparently physically normal, his life becomes a struggle to hide his true nature. And when his younger sister Petra is born, the struggle becomes nearly impossible.

This is a book which, although short, deals with a lot of underlying questions of what it means to be human. Without giving anything away, I can say that I've always found the ending thought-provoking and disturbing. And even though I've read this several times before I enjoyed it equally as much when re-reading it again. Highly recommended. show less

I'm honestly surprised this novel doesn't get talked about more as being a classic of the genre. Similar in a lot of ways when it comes to style as John Christopher's The Death of Grass, The Chrysalids excels past it as well. While not quite as well paced, this novel offers much more in a philosophical sense. The characters are well written, and the prose is easy to read without lacking depth. There's a real sense of both melancholy and tension that slowly builds throughout the novel that was fitting to the content. There are also moments of true excitement that left me gripped to the page, though I will admit that the ending, while decent, was more mediocre than I expected.

Wyndham focuses mainly on themes of xenophobia, dogma, show more otherness, and the future of humanity. Exploring these themes often leads to dark places and moments, ones that feel grounded in the harsh reality of the world. Yet Wyndham is also deft enough a writer to weave in real moments of tenderness, love, and care between the characters. These moments are especially clear and sharp through their bitter surroundings. I especially appreciated these themes being seen through the eyes of a child, and then a teenager, as they come to grips with their reality. Most of my encounters with this perspective have come with a firm YA ting that I didn't care far, but not here. I also think it's important to point out that this is one of the rare vintage SF titles that doesn't ignore or belittle women.

Overall and excellent novel. Surprisingly deep and poignant for such a slim page length. Very excited to explore more of Wyndham's works. show less

This post-apocalyptic novel has really good pacing, telling a nightmarish story in a lighter way than I would have thought possible. Also, as a Canadian, I was tickled pink that the story took place in Labrador. Was definitely trying to guess how the places they talked about mapped onto present-day place names.

This book was a possible choice for students in Grade 9 where I went to high school, and I can see this being a good book for that age group to study.

A great coming-of-age-cum-enlightenment novella. This tends more towards YA than science fiction, but don't let that detract from its power. The story revolves around a mind-reading gestalt community and how they survive in an oppressive, religiously conservative society intolerant of anything or anyone abnormal. Similar in some ways to Sturgeon's fix-up More Than Human.

Read as part of A Treasury of Great Science Fiction, Volume 1, an anthology edited by Anthony Boucher.

I first read The Chrysalids by John Wyndham many years ago as a student, and about all I retained from then was the feeling that I really liked the book. My re-read has confirmed that, yes, I do really like this book. On so many levels this story of life after the nuclear holocaust is well done, imaginative and leaves us with many questions to ponder.

Very subtly written, with religious overtones, I can see why this book was chosen for students to read. Instead of laying out his opinions, the author gently sets the scene and lets his reader reach his or her own opinion. Questions of what is normal, how much direct truth can we take from the bible, and why do we, as humans, cling to bigotry and cruelty are all part of this story.

A group show more of young people living in a strait-laced rural community are different. Their difference is not evident to the naked eye. They can communicate by thoughts. People, animals and crops that are not “normal” are considered deviants and while the animals and crops are destroyed, the people are sterilized and sent to live in a wild area called The Fringe. Eventually some of the thought-senders are discovered, tortured and made to reveal the identity of others. Our three main characters manage to flee to the Fringe, but do not find safety there either. One thought sender, is able to send her thoughts half-way around the world and manages to contact people that are like them.

Well written though slightly dated, I was totally caught up in the story. I find it interesting that not all was neatly wrapped up at the end of the book. If The Chrysalids were to be written today, I’m sure it would be the first part of a YA trilogy. When John Wyndham wrote it back in the fifties, he wisely ended the story and allowed his audience to reach their own conclusions. show less

Full disclosure: I read this book back in September, right before an unexpected and emergency hospitalization. Had my life followed its normal pattern, I would have reviewed it comprehensively at the time, but instead I'm coming to back to it more than two months later to clean up loose ends. What I do recollect is that I enjoyed the novel very much; there was greater character depth than the Wyndham I've read previously (Chocky, The Kraken Wakes), and both a realism and an urgency to the writing that really pushed me on. You could make a film of this book quite easily, even today, and it would have something significant to say about the lengths we go to demonize those "not like us." Wyndham's use of Christian zealotry, too, seems show more remarkably prescient (and unusually pointed) for something written in 1955.

Where the book falls down, a little, is in its ending, which comes thick, fast, and far too abruptly. Up to that point, however, it's a very affecting and engaging read. show less