"No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man’s and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinised and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might scrutinise the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. With infinite complacency men went to and fro over this globe about their little affairs, serene in their assurance of their empire over matter."
Met hulle cutting edge tegnologie word die Marsmanne in groot silinders deur 'n Mars-kanon geskiet aarde toe, waar hulle land naby London en massiewe drie-potige metaalmasjiene aanmekaarsit en daarna: The War of the Worlds - die uitwissing van ons almal met hittegolwe en giftige swart gas.
HG Wells is omtrent in dieselfde beswyming as sy spartelende paniekbevange London, teen die einde is hy so opgewerk dat dit voel asof hy homself half oortuig dat alles regtig gebeur het. Die laaste hoofstuk waarsku dat die volgende aanval van Mars af moontlik al oppad is....
Nog 'n rip-roaring groot droom met 'n bietie wie-weet-miskien-dalk daaragter - met baie oordeel en kunstigheid vertel. Gn wonder dat Amerika gagga gegaan het toe Orson Welles dit oor die radio gebulder het nie.
