The Coming Race; or the New Utopia
First American edition, 1871
The Coming Race; or the New Utopia (1871) is the first American edition of Bulwer-Lytton's foundational speculative novel, published by Francis B. Felt in New York the same year as the Blackwood first edition. The title page states "reprinted from the English edition," and the American printing carries the subtitle "or the New Utopia," which does not appear on the British edition. A scarce American first printing of one of the genre's most important precursor texts. Bleiler described it as "enormously important."
Hardcover. First American edition. Small octavo (7.5 x 5 inches), original brown cloth stamped in gilt on spine and front panel. New York: Francis B. Felt, 1871. Locke, A Spectrum of Fantasy, p.145. #11410.
Very good copy with some minor rubbing and wear to cloth.
Hardcover. First American edition. Small octavo (7.5 x 5 inches), original brown cloth stamped in gilt on spine and front panel. New York: Francis B. Felt, 1871. Locke, A Spectrum of Fantasy, p.145. #11410.
Very good copy with some minor rubbing and wear to cloth.
Additional Details
The Coming Race follows an unnamed American narrator who accompanies an engineer into a mine and falls accidentally into a subterranean world inhabited by the Vril-ya, a race of giant, telepathic, and biologically evolved beings. Their civilization is organized around Vril, a fluid energy that can be channeled through handheld staves for purposes ranging from healing to the instantaneous destruction of a city. Because every individual, including children, carries this ability, warfare among the Vril-ya appears to have ceased. The fact that either side can so easily annihilate the other has led to a permanent stalemate. What's the point in total obliteration?
The Vril-ya society is peaceful, orderly, and still deeply unsettling. They have achieved equality, longevity, and material sufficiency, but the narrator finds their world closer to stagnation than civilization. Literature and drama have withered because there is no conflict left to inspire them. Passion and struggle, the conditions that produce art and human connection, have been quietly extinguished by the same forces that eliminated war. Lytton uses this vision to satirize democratic ideals, particularly the American system. The Vril-ya have a word for it: Koom-Posh, government by the ignorant. Its inevitable endpoint, they believe, is Glek-Nas, strife-rot.
The gender dynamics complicate matters further. Among the Vril-ya, the female Gy-ei are physically larger, stronger, and the aggressors in courtship, a deliberate inversion of Victorian norms that Lytton uses not to celebrate female power but to underscore how thoroughly the Vril-ya have reorganized human nature into something else. The narrator's discomfort with this is palpable and intentional.
Lytton's conception of Vril anticipates the strategic logic of nuclear deterrence with incredible precision. Though framed in the language of nineteenth-century electromagnetism, the weapon functions exactly as a Cold War theorist might describe mutual assured destruction. Lytton could not have known the analogy he was drawing, which is what makes it so remarkable.
Beyond its literary influence, the concept of Vril acquired a peculiar afterlife outside fiction. Taken up by occultists and pseudoscientific thinkers in the late nineteenth century, it was reimagined as a hidden cosmic energy underlying human evolution, eventually becoming entangled with secret societies and conspiracy literature. A fictional force invented for a satirical novel escaped its source entirely and became a cultural myth.
The warning in the novel is not what the Vril-ya are doing now. It is what they will inevitably do. As the narrator concludes, should they emerge to the surface, "my brave compatriots would show fight, and not a soul of them would be left in this life… at the end of a week." The extinction of humanity at the hands of a superior race is the book's final note.
The Vril-ya society is peaceful, orderly, and still deeply unsettling. They have achieved equality, longevity, and material sufficiency, but the narrator finds their world closer to stagnation than civilization. Literature and drama have withered because there is no conflict left to inspire them. Passion and struggle, the conditions that produce art and human connection, have been quietly extinguished by the same forces that eliminated war. Lytton uses this vision to satirize democratic ideals, particularly the American system. The Vril-ya have a word for it: Koom-Posh, government by the ignorant. Its inevitable endpoint, they believe, is Glek-Nas, strife-rot.
The gender dynamics complicate matters further. Among the Vril-ya, the female Gy-ei are physically larger, stronger, and the aggressors in courtship, a deliberate inversion of Victorian norms that Lytton uses not to celebrate female power but to underscore how thoroughly the Vril-ya have reorganized human nature into something else. The narrator's discomfort with this is palpable and intentional.
Lytton's conception of Vril anticipates the strategic logic of nuclear deterrence with incredible precision. Though framed in the language of nineteenth-century electromagnetism, the weapon functions exactly as a Cold War theorist might describe mutual assured destruction. Lytton could not have known the analogy he was drawing, which is what makes it so remarkable.
Beyond its literary influence, the concept of Vril acquired a peculiar afterlife outside fiction. Taken up by occultists and pseudoscientific thinkers in the late nineteenth century, it was reimagined as a hidden cosmic energy underlying human evolution, eventually becoming entangled with secret societies and conspiracy literature. A fictional force invented for a satirical novel escaped its source entirely and became a cultural myth.
The warning in the novel is not what the Vril-ya are doing now. It is what they will inevitably do. As the narrator concludes, should they emerge to the surface, "my brave compatriots would show fight, and not a soul of them would be left in this life… at the end of a week." The extinction of humanity at the hands of a superior race is the book's final note.





