The Door in the Wall by H. G. Wells and Alvin Langdon Coburn (Folio Society, 2016)

The Door in the Wall and Other Stories was a 1911 edition of collected short stories by H. G. Wells, illustrated with photographs by Alvin Langdon Coburn and published in an edition of 600 copies by Mitchell Kennerley of New York. In 1915 the book was published in the UK by Grant Richards in a very small limitation of 60 copies that, unlike the earlier US edition, were signed by both Wells and Coburn. For those mortals who don’t have a spare £10k to drop on this signed edition, the Folio Society issued a limited edition facsimile in 2016. Here I’ll be reviewing one of the 1,000 copies of this facsimile edition.

Like many of Folio Society’s limited editions, this books comes in a solander box. For books of any value, I much prefer this over a slipcase—both for the superior protection it offers, and for the uniquely special experience of folding the clamshell box open to reveal the treasure within. The box is covered in brown cloth and blocked in gilt with the authors’ names and title on both the front and spine. A print of one of Coburn’s photographs is also mounted inside a slightly debossed frame on the front board. I think a printed illustration (especially a photograph) that is simply glued to the front of a cloth binding can often look a bit cheap, but the combination is tasteful here.

Opening the box, we find it lined with brown paper. A paper pocket inside the lid securely holds the separate commentary volume. Meanwhile, the main volume site snugly inside its solander container. In facsimile of the original, the book is quarter bound in brown cloth over paper sides. The front board is blocked with the title and authors’ names in gilt and there’s a white paper title label on the spine. In some respects, it’s a fairly plain binding, but there’s an elegance in its austerity and the gilt blocking has a real warmth and radiance in the right light. It’s a fairly large volume at 15˝× 11¼˝ (380mm × 285mm), but at 160 pages is neither thick nor heavy. I found it comfortable for laptop reading.

The paper used is an unspecified German mould-made that is quite wonderful! It has a warm ivory white colouration and a distinct texture that makes it a tactile delight. The top and bottom edges are trimmed while the fore-edge is left untrimmed. We first reach a page with a facsimile of a hard-written limitation note and the signatures of Wells and Coburn. Then the title spread where the first of Coburn images faces an elegant title page where the Grant Richards cipher is printed in yellow. The first story opens with an elaborate engraved headpiece and the storied begin more generally with engraved drop caps. These are nice embellishments that help the book cling on to the last vestiges of Victorian-era design. The typographic design is due to Frederic Goudy, who designed the face specially—you may recognise the name from some of the typefaces he designed—and also oversaw the printing. The text was set by his wife, Bertha. Generous margins help to keep things readable in spite of the large page size. Overall, I like the internal design quite a lot.

This book is very much an artistic collaboration between Wells and photographer Alvin Langdon Coburn, reflected in the latter’s crediting as a coauthor right on the front board. Coburn has furnished ten photographs to illustrate the stories—one for each of the eight stories, plus an additional photograph for each of two stories, The Door in the Wall and The Country of the Blind. Here they are reproduced on Tatami paper and tipped in at the appropriate junctures. This is obviously less desirable than orgianl photogravures, but over at the Folio Society Devotees forum, user dlphcorcl posted a side-by-side comparison of this Folio Society facsimile with one of the60 originals on which it was based, along with some commentary on the facsimile. The verdict: Folio did a good job.

The book contains eight short stories in total. As I understand it, the stories were selected by Coburn according to how well he thought he’d be able to illustrate them through his photography. That is to say, these are not necessarily Wells’ best short stories. Here are my quick thoughts, free of any major spoilers, on the eight stories. I list them in order of how much I personally enjoyed the story (from best to worst). I also add some notes on what I made of the accompanying photographs.

  • The Country of the Blind. Perhaps Wells’ most famous short story, and justly so. This story encourages us to see the world from a new perspective, while giving us a protagonist we can easily empathise with. The first photograph is an attractive alpine scene that makes a convincing stand-in for the eponymous land of the blind. The second photograph is a bit mysterious because, as the commentary notes, the white cloud it depicts doesn’t really feature in the story. As an aside, The Country of the Blind was published as a stand alone edition by the Golden Cockerel Press in 1939.
  • The Cone. A slightly more niche story of betrayal and revenge. But I found it atmospheric, compelling, and clever in the way it develops and then unfolds its central tension. This also had my favourite photograph: a dark and moody industrial scene.
  • The Door in the Wall. This is a charming and wistful allegorical tale of missed opportunity. You want to grab the protagonist by the arm and yell at him that he’s making a huge mistake—a sure sign of an engaging character. The first photograph, which serves as the book’s frontispiece (and is reprinted on the front of the solander box) depicts the titular door. I think Coburn was right to say he’d found the perfect door for the job. The second photograph is of a kind of secret garden, but I found it a bit bland and generic.
  • A Dream of Armageddon. This story gave me Lovecraft vibes, which is a good thing. Remarkably, it was written two years before the Wright brothers’ famous flight, and only 13 years before the start of the first world war. So it is prescient that the story is a tale of a future war in which aeroplanes reign death from the skies in a pan-European war. But, despite being one of the longer stories in the book, I didn’t feel it was as developed in plot or characterisation. The photograph is a nice aerial view of Capri, but I thought a more intimate terrestrial shot would better reflect the perspective of the protagonist.
  • The Star. An early antecedent of the modern disaster movie. Again, this one builds some tension, but felt a bit flat in its ending and didn’t have any standout characters. The photograph is a decent, if somewhat generic, nocturne of the eponymous “star”.
  • The Diamond Maker. A chance encounter between two characters leaves one wondering if he missed a great opportunity. Nothing terribly wrong with this story, but I didn’t think it has any big selling point. The photograph is a view of the story’s setting on Embankment. I thought it set the scene quite nicely and helps to build the atmosphere for a meeting of a foggy night in Victorian London.
  • The Lord of the Dynamos. Often criticised by modern audiences for its overt and casual racism. If you aren’t willing to chalk that up to “the way things were at the time” then you might find this story positively offensive, even if the chief racist gets his comeuppance. I was willing to look past that, but even then the story has little to offer besides a bit of industrial hellscape atmosphere. The photograph, though, is another striking image that evokes the subjugation of man by industrial machinery.
  • A Moonlight Fable. An old fashioned fable in the style of Anderson. Some may like it, but I found the thing impossibly twee and mostly pointless. Like the “secret garden” image in The Door in the Wall, I found the image a bit generic, although improved by somewhat dramatic play of light.

Besides the facsimile volume, there’s also a separate commentary volume. This is substantially smaller (235mm × 155mm). It is soft bound in brown paper, but the binding is still sewn. The title and authors’ names are blocked on the front cover. The commentary is printed on a bright white paper and includes a photograph of Wells taken by Coburn as a frontispiece. Otherwise, it is divided into three parts. First is an essay by George Hendrick on the history and genesis of the Wells-Coburn collaboration. Next comes a more critical essay on the pairing of image and text by David Lodge. Last comes the (sometimes amusing) correspondence from Coburn to Wells and his wife. Together, this material does a nice job of contextualising the work.

Where to buy

You can search for and buy this edition on: eBay US*, eBay UK*, AbeBooks US*, or AbeBooks UK*.

Or browse more generally for Folio Society books at:
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Miscellaneous

The Internet Archive has an archived version of the Folio Society’s web page for the edition.

Over at the Folio Society Devotees forum, user RATBAG has some nice photographs of the book.

You can read The Door in the Wall and Other Stories online at Project Gutenberg.

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