So here’s the deal: H.G. Wells wasn't exactly thrilled with the politics going on around WWI. So what does he do? He writes this fever dream of a book where a guy named Boon dies, goes to a cosmic library, and just starts JABBERING about everything. Boon's got a secretary who puts it all together—awful poetry, wild visions, and outbursts aimed at everyone. The “Wild Asses of the Devil” are basically the unruly emotions that wreck good thinking.

The Story

There isn’t a single story, honestly. The book starts with a made-up literary club commemorating Boon. Then Wells (via a reviewer) takes control and shares Boon’s mad notes: The “Mind of the Race” is this dumb collective idea that humanity knows what it’s doing (Boon thinks NOT). He also imagines Jesus coming back after a million years to find nobody noticed His second coming. And the “Last Trump”—a crowded, confused Resurrection where creepy stuff happens outside time. It jumps and rants but always comes back to how WE invent grand ideas to cover up our own messes.

Why You Should Read It

Because it’s HONEST. Before any war could be “just,” Wells draws sideways world peace and intellectual cliques wasting potential. You’ll recognize today’s trbal arguments between Twitter sci-fi cults and armchair generals. Few books let a genius say “humans? Yeah, no” in so many winding ways, which somehow feels CHEERING. The dialog is sarcastic, quick, and sharp—easy to dip into anytime.

Final Verdict

This book is perfect for fans of underappreciated early sci-fi, people who want a pre-war’s punch-in-the-gut, or anyone wanting to look REALLY smart on the bus. But if you’re expecting clean action, this is a mess: of ideas, genres, moods. It’s picky. Good for the bedroom skeptic, or anyone who loves when writers choose gleeful disaster over boring respect. Dive in and end up arguing with the page—it won’t disappoint.