And now it comes to my mind that Mr. H. G. Wells actually has written
a very delightful romance about men growing as tall as trees;
and that here, again, he seems to me to have been a victim of this
vague relativism. "The Food of the Gods" is, like Mr. Bernard
Shaw's play, in essence a study of the Superman idea. And it lies,
I think, even through the veil of a half-pantomimic allegory,
open to the same intellectual attack. We cannot be expected to have
any regard for a great creature if he does not in any manner conform
to our standards. For unless he passes our standard of greatness
we cannot even call him great. Nietszche summed up all that is
interesting in the Superman idea when he said, "Man is a thing
which has to be surpassed." But the very word "surpass" implies
the existence of a standard common to us and the thing surpassing us.
If the Superman is more manly than men are, of course they will
ultimately deify him, even if they happen to kill him first.
But if he is simply more supermanly, they may be quite indifferent
to him as they would be to another seemingly aimless monstrosity.
He must submit to our test even in order to overawe us.
Mere force or size even is a standard; but that alone will never
make men think a man their superior. Giants, as in the wise old
fairy-tales, are vermin. Supermen, if not good men, are vermin.

"The Food of the Gods" is the tale of "Jack the Giant-Killer"
told from the point of view of the giant. This has not, I think,
been done before in literature; but I have little doubt that the
psychological substance of it existed in fact. I have little doubt
that the giant whom Jack killed did regard himself as the Superman.
It is likely enough that he considered Jack a narrow and parochial person
who wished to frustrate a great forward movement of the life-force.