Army manoeuvres reveal that a hemisphere 2 miles in diameter surrounds the village. We are thrust into the novel right in the middle of the 'Dayout', when the village of Midwich seems to have been put to sleep. The key figures here are Gordon Zellaby, an educated and insightful character (if this had been set any earlier he would have been the 'Lord of the Manor') Doctor Willers, the village's GP the vicar, and Bernard Westcott, the middle man between Midwich and the military, who is usually himself represented by the narrator, Richard Gayford (a published writer who represents 'Everyman'). You keep quiet and carry on.Īnd indeed, the 'elders' of the village do get together, and form a 'committee' to discuss what is the best way to proceed for the good of them all. Nothing has ever really happened in Midwich (apart from some amusing historical episodes referred to in a droll fashion right at the start) yet the villagers just accept it and go on with their lives. It becomes obvious that the situation of every single female being pregnant at the same time is scientifically inexplicable. One exchange between the doctor and the vicar is hilarious as neither seem to want to spell out what they actually mean.

At the beginning too, when the 'cuckoos' are perceived, there is much embarrassment and avoidence of discussing how this might have happened. The British reserve is very much in evidence in the novel, and Wyndham conveys the clipped 'BBC' accent beautifully, with his 'Ihad' or 'Ithink' in reported conversation. All these are good chilling films, but they are bound to lose the feel of the original text.

John Carpenter then remade 'Village of the Damned'. The first of these goes by the name of 'Village of the Damned', from 1960, and was followed shortly by a sequel 'Children of the Damned'. The way the army moves in immediately, the jeeps on the road, meetings between people who clearly think of themselves as the elders of the village, the consequent emphasis on protecting ordinary people, the 'Grange' with its important secret work, all these contribute to a work redolent with the 'stiff upper lip' feeling of post-war British fiction.Īlthough this novel is class-ridden, and the women's roles are very much of their time, it is told with a wry humour which I had forgotten in the aftermath of all the adaptations.

Now, almost 40 years later, the postwartime feel is even more present in this short novel, despite the book itself being published in 1957. I can't remember when I first read The Midwich Cuckoos, but it was certainly within 30 years of the end of World War II.

The Midwich Cuckoos by John Wyndham