Book : The Time Machine (vintage Classics) - Wells, H. G.

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The first great novel to imagine time travel, H. G. Wells’sThe Time Machine (1895) follows its narrator on an incredible journey that takes him eventually to the earth’s last moments. When a Victorian scientist invents a machine that allows him to travel to the year A.D. 802,701, he encounters a highly evolved society of people called Eloi, for whom suffering has apparently been replaced by refinement and harmony. First impressions are misleading, however, and his discovery of the Eloi’s true relationship to the brutish Morlocks who lurk in tunnels beneath them leads him to a horrifying insight into the fate of mankind and its roots in his own time. Review “[Wells] contrives to give over humanity into the clutches of the Impossible and yet manages to keep it down (or up) to its humanity, to its flesh, blood, sorrow, folly.” -Joseph Conrad About the Author H. G. Wells (1866-1946) was a prominent English socialist and pacifist, and a prolific writer in many genres. As the author of The War of the Worlds, The Invisible Man, The Island of Dr. Moreau, and The Time Machine, he is considered a pioneer of science fiction. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Chapter 1 The time traveller (for so it will be convenient to speak of him) was expounding a recondite matter to us. His grey eyes shone and twinkled, and his usually pale face was flushed and animated. The fire burned brightly, and the soft radiance of the incandescent lights in the lilies of silver caught the bubbles that flashed and passed in our glasses. Our chairs, being his patents, embraced and caressed us rather than submitted to be sat upon, and there was that luxurious after-dinner atmosphere when thought runs gracefully free of the trammels of precision. And he put it to us in this way - marking the points with a lean forefinger - as we sat and lazily admired his earnestness over this new paradox (as we thought it) and his fecundity. ‘You must follow me carefully. I shall have to controvert one or two ideas that are almost universally accepted. The geometry, for instance, they taught you at school is founded on a misconception.’ ‘Is not that rather a large thing to expect us to begin upon?’ said Filby, an argumentative person with red hair. ‘I do not mean to ask you to accept anything without reasonable ground for it. You will soon admit as much as I need from you. You know of course that a mathematical line, a line of thicknessnil, has no real existence. They taught you that? Neither has a mathematical plane. These things are mere abstractions.’ ‘That is all right,’ said the Psychologist. ‘Nor, having only length, breadth and thickness, can a cube have a real existence.’ ‘There I object,’ said Filby. ‘Of course a solid body may exist. All real things-’ ‘So most people think. But wait a moment. Can aninstantaneous cube exist?’ ‘Don’t follow you,’ said Filby. ‘Can a cube that does not last for any time at all, have a real existence?’ Filby became pensive. ‘Clearly,’ the Time Traveller proceeded, ‘any real body must have extension infour directions: it must have Length, Breadth, Thickness and - Duration. But through a natural infirmity of the flesh, which I will explain to you in a moment, we incline to overlook this fact. There are really four dimensions, three which we call the three planes of Space, and a fourth, Time. There is, however, a tendency to draw an unreal distinction between the former three dimensions and the latter, because it happens that our consciousness moves intermittently in one direction along the latter from the beginning to the end of our lives.’ ‘That,’ said a very young man, making spasmodic efforts to relight his cigar over the lamp; ‘that . . . very clear indeed.’ ‘Now, it is very remarkable that this is so extensively overlooked,’ continued the Time Traveller, with a slight accession of cheerfulness. ‘Really this is what is meant b
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