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A Visit from Venus, by Ronald Fraser (1958)

Cover from "A Visit from Venus"

How to describe A Visit from Venus? How about P. G. Wodehouse meets Olaf Stapledon? This assumes people recognize Stapledon, a contemporary of Wodehouse’s who wrote cosmic fantasies that swept the reader through spans of time that make millenia look short and distances that make parsecs seem like a stroll around the block. Ronald Fraser (that’s Sir Ronald Fraser of the British Army and Foreign Service, not Ronald Fraser of In Hiding: The Life of Manuel Cortes and other books of Spanish history) would have been quite at home on one of Stapledon’s interplanetary voyages–and equally at home on a weekend at Blandings.

A Visit from Venus opens with General Sir Brian Hungerford, veteran of two world wars, hunter, and club man, planning the upcoming weekend at his country manor, Abbotsfield, with his batman/valet/butler, Troutbeck:

“Let’s see … who’s coming this weekend?” He ticked the visitors off on his fingers. “And the Nibb of Nizam or something. D’you remember him?”

“Not by the name you mention, sir.”

“We shot with him, on the borders of Afghanistan.”

“I remember him, sir. The Maharaja of Jellalabad.”

“That’s the chap. Likes leopards.”

“Of which we have few or none, sir. The gentleman is somewhat exotic as regards tastes, I recollect.”

“Eats shrimps with the shells on…. I’ve just seen him do it. So don’t shell your shrimps, Trout.”

Sir Brian’s other guests include Sir James Outright, Lord and Lady Willowpattern, Lord Undertone, Lady Harriet Trusty, Mr. Shandy the author and Mr. Gaffe the critic, and Mr. Michael Brand, “whose looks and magnetic presence puzzled the guests exceedingly.” At the house, they quaff champagne and dine on lobster Mornay, exchanging clever repartee.

And then Sir Brian invites them to retire to a former convent chapel located on his estate, where Mr. Brand proceeds to activate “the Eye” an enormous piece of machinery of indefinite description. With it, they then take turns looking at the movement of creatures on the surface of Mars. The view is quite crisp, and the movement of the Martians mesmerizing. Everyone heads to bed marveling at the sights.

Leap forward a month or two, and another such weekend, Mr. Brand and the General’s daughter Ariadne slip from the dinner table, only to return a few minutes later with what Troutbeck later attempts to describe as “a little more than a half-dozen Presents of an ill-defined character; Essences rather than forms, if I may use such an expression. They appear to glide through the furniture towards the fireplace, where Sir Brian … and Miss Ariadne … greeted them.” As a result, Troutbeck finds “my habitual mind began to look over the possibilities with regards refreshment: but what is it appropriate to offer to ladies and gentlemen whose presence can only be detected by the glow of their impact on our dense atmosphere?”

Later, the visitors from Venus return the courtesy and host Sir Brian, Troutbeck, and a collection of house guests on a short tour of their own planet. Mr. Brand’s unusually magnetic personality turns out to have an otherworldly source. There is much discussion of communing with the source of all energy. The Maharajah decides to surrender his throne and become a monk. Finally, “when the uncreated Essence withdrew from the Sun and the Sun himself withdrew into a glory of cloud there were great angels who drew veils, and we were aware of silence.” And they find themselves back on Earth, welcomed by the news that that nasty Lord Poxmarket, an obstreperous millionaire from the City whom no one much cared for, has drowned in the Thames while in pursuit of what he perceived as a mermaid.

It’s something of a demonstration of the British capacity for discretion that none of the few and brief reviews of A Visit from Venus began with “WTF??” I would say that it’s unlike any other book, but in fact it’s like three other books, for Sir Ronald followed it with Jupiter in the Chair (1958), Trout’s Testament (1960), and City of the Sun (1961), all dealing with the cosmic adventures of Sir Brian and his trusty Troutbeck. I can’t believe I’m writing this for you people and not ordering them right now! Stay tuned.


A Visit from Venus, by Ronald Fraser
London: Jonathan Cape, 1958

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