An intricately designed machine that propells the nameless, ’’Time Traveler’’, into the futuer; quite possibly the first book to spark the idea of time travel. Written in the late 1800’s/ early 1900’s this incredibly bizzar tale, I’m sure, was the talk of the town, but, like the title of this little review, I am a prisoner of my time. Maybe it was the density of the story, or the hopless descriptions of a land no one, not even Wells, could fathom. This is a story of a man, literally, telling his fellow friends about his adventures in the year 802, 701. Although I do give Wells accolades for choosing such a handsomly far-fetch year none of us will out live, the story is lacking a little. Laxed descriptions and details that should of existed, but evidentially were never born, unfortunately killed my interest. Not that the book was bad- matter of fact the book is’nt bad, it’s only fault is the year it was written in; inevitably qualifying it as a classic. So with that, I leave you this advise: unless you are an avid classic science-fiction fan/ historian, or of the elderly community looking for nostalgia, do not read this book. Thank you for reading my review of H. G. Wells ’’The Time Machine’’.