What would humans be like 800,000 years from now down the evolutionary line? Would we evolve to have bigger brains? How about wings? How about natural “face masks” so that you don’t actually have to wear one? In The Time Machine (1895), sci-fi author H.G. Wells explores these interesting questions, provoking the reader to engage in interesting thought-experiments.

The novel follows a nameless male protagonist referred to as the “Time Traveler.” Through his time machine invention, the time traveler voyages into the distant future of the year 802,701, only to find an unrecognizable world with unrecognizable creatures. Moreover, the society is not as advanced as one might think, being so far into the future. Next, he meets cute, beautiful, and harmless little people he calls the Elois. In mingling with the Elois, the traveler loses sight of his time machine, and, when he comes back to it, it’s disappeared! As it turns out, there is another kind of creature, but not so cute and definitely not harmless. He calls them the Morlocks, underground creatures who only come out to play at night. Could they have taken the traveler’s time machine? How will he get back home? How will he survive? Better still, how did human beings evolve or devolve into Elois and Morlocks?

Indeed, evolution by means of natural selection is one of The Time Machine’s central themes. At the same time, Wells also explores the themes of utopia, dystopia, darkness, apocalypse, the Enlightenment, and, yes, Marxism. The novel has incredible range!

Moreover, though written in 1895, The Time Machine speaks to the present day in many respects. For one, interest in time travelling and possible futures has grown exponentially since Wells’ book came out. These topics still very much engage theoretical physicists as much as the lay person who can’t get enough of Back to the Future, Hot Tub Time Machine, and the Star Wars franchise.

However, maybe unlike these movies, The Time Machine has a serious purpose. It warns its readers about humanity’s possible future, should the gap between rich and poor continue to widen. Wells pursues the logical consequences of this rich-poor gap hundreds and thousands of years down the evolutionary line, teleporting us to an era in which humanity has split into two distinct species.

One the one hand, we have the Elois, descendants of the upper class, and oh my are they baby-cute! Ironically, these merry little people live in a Marxist utopia. To illustrate, the notion of property ownership seems to have gone poof: “there were no small houses to be seen. Apparently the single house, and possibly even the household, had vanished….There were...no signs of proprietary rights.” “Communism,” the time traveler says to himself! No wonder they’re happy, as Marx or Rousseau might have said. Even better, there “were no signs of struggle, neither social or economical struggle.” Sounds utopic, right? Not so fast. Wells is pushing us to think about the meaning of life in the absence of struggle. Is it heavenly to play and eat and sleep all day, everyday, without care or responsibility?

On the other hand, we have the Morlocks. They are far more interesting and mysterious than the Elois because Wells does not reveal too much about them. We know that they dwell in the underworld in the same way that the poor and working classes used to in the late 19th century. We find out that they have a favorite food. We know that they’re physically superior to the Elois in strength and mobility-- “ape-like” but also “like a human spider.” But, at the same time, they’re scary-movie ugly. Indeed, the way the time traveler reacts to their ugliness is similar to the way that people react to beggars and the homeless; that is, with reflexive disgust. What is Wells up to here? Through the Morlocks, Wells argues that the ugly and repulsive appearance of the lower classes prevents us from seeing their humanity. And that if we cannot see the human in them, we won’t be able to exercise compassion towards them. Analogously, the time traveler fails to recognize the humanity of the Morlocks and in turn villainizes them. Meanwhile, he finds a sense of belonging with the Elois. Are the poor the villains of the world? Are they in the way of progress? Or should progress mean trying to lift them up from poverty so as to achieve respectable dignity and social acceptance? Would we treat them better if they were better looking? These questions that Wells poses in the novel are as relevant today as they were in 1895.

Thus, The Time Machine is filthy-rich with ideas, which is one of its greatest strengths. It could inspire many deep conversations and tangents, making it ideal for book clubs and literature classes. Although the book is slow to start, the middle chapters are full of intrigue, suspense, and action that makes you feel like you're watching a horror movie. Its ending, although lacking in suspense, is profound, conveying wisdoms of timeless relevance. There are hardly any parts that are not interesting to the curious reader who reads not just for the plot.

The novel also has several points of weaknesses. One point is its plausibility: the time-traveling mechanism is not very convincing, especially for those versed in modern physics. (It’s about 20-25 years after Wells' novel has been published that Einstein would develop his theory of relativity and spacetime.) Moreover, perhaps another weakness is its language. The prose is in Victorian English, which many readers today may find difficult. But you do get used to it after a couple chapters----a worthwhile effort for all the richness that Wells imparts. Lastly, I think that another major character would have made the novel more interesting. We get the Eloi Weena, but it would have been quite fascinating if there was another major Morlock character that we could have gotten to know better.

In sum, having weighed the strengths and weaknesses of The Time Machine, I recommend this book. If you're a sci-fi junkie, an H.G. Wells fan, or someone fascinated by the future possibilities of humankind, then you're in for a treat. The novel gives you more questions than answers. As such, you can read it time and again and gain new insight at each re-reading. Its startling ending in particular grows on you; it makes you contemplate the inevitable heat-death of the sun, and hence the end of time and life on earth. Such contemplation, such mental time traveling, has inspired me to appreciate the preciousness of life and the small amount of time I have to live it and make it really count. While other books have conveyed a similar message, Wells’ execution is unmatched in profundity and philosophical detail. In other words, The Time Machine bears the status of timelessness afforded to great works of literature. And because of this, the novel's strengths outweigh its weaknesses, which in comparison are rather mild and forgivable. “The time traveler banished three years ago,” the time traveler says as the novel comes to a close. “And, as everybody knows, he has never returned.” How fun it is to keep going back to the future.

IB Stars out of 8: ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ★★