04 Jul 08
Originally posted by Bosse de Nage‘Then I heard voices approaching me. Coming through
Gollums -- yes. Teletubbies?
the bushes by the White Sphinx were the heads and shoulders
of men running. One of these emerged in a pathway
leading straight to the little lawn upon which I stood with
my machine. He was a slight creature—perhaps four feet
high—clad in a purple tunic, girdled at the waist with a leather
belt. Sandals or buskins—I could not clearly distinguish
which—were on his feet; his legs were bare to the knees, and
his head was bare. Noticing that, I noticed for the first time
how warm the air was.
‘He struck me as being a very beautiful and graceful creature, but indescribably frail. His flushed face reminded me
of the more beautiful kind of consumptive—that hectic beauty
of which we used to hear so much....‘In another moment we were standing face to face, I and
this fragile thing out of futurity. He came straight up to me
and laughed into my eyes. The absence from his bearing of
any sign of fear struck me at once. Then he turned to the two
others who were following him and spoke to them in a strange
and very sweet and liquid tongue.
‘There were others coming, and presently a little group of
perhaps eight or ten of these exquisite creatures were about
me. One of them addressed me. It came into my head, oddly
enough, that my voice was too harsh and deep for them. So I
shook my head, and, pointing to my ears, shook it again. He
came a step forward, hesitated, and then touched my hand.
Then I felt other soft little tentacles upon my back and shoulders.
They wanted to make sure I was real. There was nothing in this at all alarming. Indeed, there was something in
these pretty little people that inspired confidence—a graceful
gentleness, a certain childlike ease. And besides, they
looked so frail that I could fancy myself flinging the whole
dozen of them about like nine-pins. But I made a sudden
motion to warn them when I saw their little pink hands feeling
at the Time Machine. Happily then, when it was not too
late, I thought of a danger I had hitherto forgotten, and reaching
over the bars of the machine I unscrewed the little levers
that would set it in motion, and put these in my pocket. Then
I turned again to see what I could do in the way of communication.
‘And then, looking more nearly into their features, I saw
some further peculiarities in their Dresden-china type of prettiness.
Their hair, which was uniformly curly, came to a sharp
end at the neck and cheek; there was not the faintest suggestion
of it on the face, and their ears were singularly minute.
The mouths were small, with bright red, rather thin lips, and
the little chins ran to a point. The eyes were large and mild;
and—this may seem egotism on my part—I fancied even that
there was a certain lack of the interest I might have expected
in them.
‘As they made no effort to communicate with me, but simply
stood round me smiling and speaking in soft cooing notes to
each other, I began the conversation. I pointed to the Time
Machine and to myself. Then hesitating for a moment how
to express time, I pointed to the sun. At once a quaintly
pretty little figure in chequered purple and white followed
my gesture, and then astonished me by imitating the sound
of thunder.
‘For a moment I was staggered, though the import of his
gesture was plain enough. The question had come into my
mind abruptly: were these creatures fools? You may hardly
understand how it took me. You see I had always anticipated
that the people of the year Eight Hundred and Two Thousand
odd would be incredibly in front of us in knowledge,
art, everything. Then one of them suddenly asked me a question
that showed him to be on the intellectual level of one of
our five-year-old children— asked me, in fact, if I had come
from the sun in a thunderstorm! It let loose the judgment I
had suspended upon their clothes, their frail light limbs, and
fragile features. A flow of disappointment rushed across my
mind. For a moment I felt that I had built the Time Machine
in vain.
‘I nodded, pointed to the sun, and gave them such a vivid
rendering of a thunderclap as startled them. They all withdrew
a pace or so and bowed. Then came one laughing towards
me, carrying a chain of beautiful flowers altogether
new to me, and put it about my neck. The idea was received
with melodious applause; and presently they were all running
to and fro for flowers, and laughingly flinging them
upon me until I was almost smothered with blossom.
Etc.
http://worldlibrary.net/eBooks/Coradella_Collegiate_Bookshelf_Collection/wells-thetimemachine.pdf
04 Jul 08
Originally posted by AThousandYoung
[i]‘Then I heard voices approaching me. Coming through
the bushes by the White Sphinx were the heads and shoulders
of men running. One of these emerged in a pathway
leading straight to the little lawn upon which I stood with
my machine. He was a slight creature—perhaps four feet
high—clad in a purple tunic, girdled at the waist with a leather
be ...[text shortened]... ttp://worldlibrary.net/eBooks/Coradella_Collegiate_Bookshelf_Collection/wells-thetimemachine.pdf
14 Jul 08
Originally posted by nihilismorThe Drenai series by David Gemmell. Start with "Legend" then "Waylander". A great read by themselves or part of the nine books in the series.
I can see that.
If anyone has read Robert Jordan can they recommend a series which is as good as WoT but actually has an ending?
Also a four book series by Gemmell called the Rigante series.
If you liked Jordan, you will like Gemmell.
15 Jul 08
Originally posted by nihilismorTry David Gemmell. He was an English fantasy writer who died in 2006 (i think).
Searched the local college and county librarys . . . no drenai or gimmells found.
Google him, there is lots on him. His books may have been released in the US under other titles.
Well worth finding.