The Time Machine

When a Victorian scientist propels himself into the year 802,701 AD, he is initially delighted to find that suffering has been replaced by beauty, contentment and peace. Entranced at first by the Eloi, an elfin species descended from man, he soon realises that this beautiful people are simply remnants of a once-great culture now weak and childishly afraid of the dark. They have every reason to be afraid: in deep tunnels beneath their paradise lurks another race descended from humanity the sinister Morlocks. And when the scientist's time machine vanishes, it becomes clear he must search these tunnels, if he is ever to return to his own era.

I feel I should apologise for distinct lack of presence online last month. But, no holidays this month means plenty of posts I hope.

Last week my book club met to discuss our latest read, H G Wells’ classic The Time Machine. Normally when I turn up I don’t have much of an idea what people will think – it’s one of those unspoken rules that you do not discuss book club books unless you want one of my turn-you-to-stone frowns or raised eyebrow at the very least. Ok so probably raised eyebrows… never been able to move them independently. It’s a flaw I have come to terms with. This time though I had a little insight. One of the book club members couldn’t make it and so she sent me her views by email earlier that day – it’s a serious business. Bearing in mind this friend was the person who struggled to give Arundhati Roy’s God of Small Things anything higher than a 2, this email didn’t pull any punches: “Didn't particularly enjoy the book and was thankful it was short”.

In general, though, it wasn’t a bad sum up. When the rest of us got together and contemplated the book inbetween pistachios – thanks Phoebe – we all agreed we weren’t the book’s biggest fans. The Time Traveller was far from Eric Bana for starters, he instead came across as inward-thinking, emotionless and old-fashioned. Old-fashioned is the key, though, as while I did find his account lacking in heart I came to think that perhaps it’s all just a matter of being old.

We were all disappointed there were no relationships to get excited about and the only one that had potential, was abandoned by Wells (or, more fairly maybe by the Time Traveller himself) so that storyline fizzled. And so did she – the girl that is – another example of an old-fashioned masculine world dominating culture privileging scientific fact and achievement over emotion, experience and, really, people. This woman, Weena, could have been a child or an adult for all we knew – she had no personality of her own, no kick-ass Black Widow moves – she was just nothingy.

Saying that, I’m not about to accuse H G Wells of being a misogynist. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, but surely the whole thing was just a product of its times and the values held back then? Saying that, I find it odd that someone with those thoughts had the capability of being so forward thinking with everything else. The basic premise was amazing, then and now. The concept I loved, and I don’t think I’m really spoiling anything plot-wise here, was the idea that a culture can become so technologically developed that it turns back on itself and becomes more primitive as a result of no longer needing to develop or do anything.

Anyway, all in all we thought it was a great book to discuss and study; we thought it was well written, I myself found it successfully creepy at times and we liked the ending. We were grateful that it was short, though, as the narrator just seemed to lack depth and we wanted more relationships…

The Book Club gave it 5/10. I gave it 6/10

Wonder if HG Wells would approve of Marty McFly...