Windward

I found it interesting that though one of the themes of the novel seemed to be the infinite scope of the universe, only individual planets or systems have a "windward" to look to. Just a thought.
I've never read a Banks novel before, and though his style of the nearly disconnected narratives was disconcerting at first, I decided I enjoyed it. It was interesting and gave better scope to the species and cultures Banks portrayed, as well as throwing the plot through some interesting developments without spelling them out explicitly.
On par with our theme of "sufficiently advanced technology" there was a lot to explore. There were multiple formats the issue took, from the soulkeepers and devised heavens to virtual reality experiences. It also raises questions like, "If my culture becomes so advanced that we no longer really die but merely live a pleasant existence of virtual reality adventures and meddle in other slightly less-advanced worlds' affairs in our spare time, could some of those worlds potentially get angry and try to destroy us in some horrific manner?" If technology did advance so far, what would people do? Would we all just throw ourselves into reckless adventures and lava rafting, even though it's no longer reckless? Advanced technology could bring with it some frightening behavior, and boredom.

Children of Some god or Another

I think it's much more fair to compare a sequel to its predecessor than our heartless comparison of movie adaptations to the novels they're based on. With that disclaimer, I'll begin with my The Sparrow/Children of God comparison.
Though it was interesting for Emilio's tale to be "wrapped up," it was not satisfying in the same sense that The Sparrow was. Where the plot of The Sparrow served to explore religion and morality, Children of God was a heavy-handed continuation of something that may have been better left unresolved. It was fitting in The Sparrow for awful things to continue pecking at the very core of Sandoz's beliefs, as that was what Russell was exploring, but in Children of God she merely used the same mechanism, without any real purpose behind why.
As for the entire Revolution idea...it was far too easy. Just like The Moon is a Harsh Mistress having Mike in the background, controlling communications, strategy, security, weather satellites and horoscopes, there was never a question of whether the Runa would be successful. They had Sofia and her iPhone hiding in the forest to arrange everything against the Jana'ata. I enjoyed the idea of said revolution because it had just cause and provocation, as I would have had the various Meso-Americans risen up against the oppressive Cortes instead of their bleak fate, but the solve-all method Russell used to orchestrate the revolution was too easy. (I'm not volunteering to develop something better...but I did expect more after The Sparrow.)
Nico and Isaac were both interesting charactre additions. Carlo could have been interesting, but after he failed to really add anything to the plot other than Emilio-snatching and telling Emilio he was going to add something to the plot...he just became deadweight. None of the other new crew members seemed to develop either (the only thing Sean Fein was good for was his name and the accompanying joke), and even John Candotti wasn't very insightful or forgiving or optimistic or humourous.
Upon reading the ending of Children of God, I kind of just wondered where any of it had come from and if it had really gone anywhere. As I mentioned before, the idea behind the revolution was interesting. The reservation idea was cute. Sending Emilio back to Earth, again, seemed useless to me in his overall redemption process, and I was just left wondering if he had made his peace with his religious beliefs, as I assumed was the goal of the novel.

Conquest of...

"The conquest of information leads to that of the kingdom." (pg 104)

"In other words, is any influence, by the very fact of its externality, detrimental? (pg 177)

In conjunction with The Sparrow, these were my two favourite quotes from The Conquest of America. They highlight certain aspects of the Jesuit Mission's interaction on Rakhat and how that could potentially have led to either a conquest - had they been more successful in communicating - and how in actuality the human presence merely had a detrimental effect because its externality upset the existing balance.
The different ideas of communication were particularly interesting to me. Todorov points that such a seemingly arbitrary difference as viewing time linearly or cyclically could propagate such deep cultural misinterpretations. In this light, its no wonder that merely planting a garden could wreak such devastation.
Todorov also caused me to acknowledge that because interhuman - though from radically different cultures - interaction with the "other" can be so contorted, our potential contact with any other species of "other" has a high probability of disaster. If humans can't even judge and communicate with eachother, how well do we expect to do when faced with something absolutely foreign?
Along that pessimistic line of thought: the second quote I mentioned also seems only to ask if there is any hope for positive relations with the "other". I'm not sure. Todorov, though incredibly interesting, offers only a possibility of success on this front in future interactions, but nothing for certain.

The Sparrow

I think The Sparrow was my favourite book we've read. More of the tragedy variety, but still. Brilliantly written, speckled with humour, and it really made me ponder.
I think the shortest quote to sum most of my impressions up is found on page 404, "...comes wisdom through the awful grace of God." Emphasis on the "awful," part.
I was reminded of Dune, by the foreshadowing, but not through prophecies- through what we'd already been told of the mission to Rakhat. The first chapter tells that Emilio Sandoz was the only survivor, we merely have to wait and see how everyone dies. I just reread that last sentence and it sounds horribly gruesome, but that was what I was thinking while I read. I wonder how everyone dies, because I already know they will. It was an incredibly effective method for Russell to emphasize how important the religious themes were to everything that unfolded. Switching back and forth to Emilio's inquisition and recovery with Vincent Giuliani maintains that connection with all of Emilio's actions on Rakhat being for the Society of Jesus, and how whatever his story is leading up to, what it is causing him to question is his spirituality.
If Russell had merely written this as a narrative of the Jesuit Mission to Rakhat, and tacked Emilio's return to Earth and "recovery," onto the end, her message wouldn't have evolved in the same manner. Her religious arguments would have been lost and Emilio's final acknowledgment of having been raped would not have truly represented how deeply he'd been injured, rejected.
The inclusion of different religions also strengthened the overall theme: Jimmy the Catholic, Jewish Sofia, atheist George and Anne Edwards, and all of the personal beliefs of the various Jesuits. I appreciated the spectrum of argument this gave Russell.
Of course, everyone dying and Emilio's life being reduced to confetti was a bit disheartening, but didn't weaken a brilliant novel.

Justifying V

I was disappointed that we never reached a conclusion on why Susan's logic for wielding absolute control being because it was necessary was different from V's logic for wielding absolute control being because it was necessary.
I acknowledge that it was noble of V to take more direct responsibility for his dirty work, but it was dirty work nonetheless. We skirted around the issue that perhaps the only important distinctions were the intentions of each character. Is killing justified if the killer has a greater good in mind? The same idea appears (like we discussed) with Mike from The Moon is a Harsh Mistress explaining his crashing of a ship because it seemed necessary for the cause, which is why I found it so odd that V never tries to explain or justify his actions to anyone. It makes V seem that much more inhuman, that a computer showed more typical human behavior than he did. V's character is all the more dangerous simply because he seeks no recourse or justification from anyone, even Evey who practically begs V to clue her in. If we justify V's actions as being better than Susan's because V has a more noble end in mind, aren't we justifying any individual taking our future into their hands simply because they think they know what's best for us? Or that they won't force anything upon us, just make it nearly impossible for us to choose any future but they one they approve of?
On some other points, I appreciated the historical comparisons that we discussed, particularly the similarity to the Nuremberg Trials. It harshly illuminated the scary fact that there really are people who pass judgment on who is guilty to what degree- and who should die. And apparently these characters don't just show up in graphic novels.
As for comparisons to the movie- of course I agree that they are ridiculously different, but that doesn't make me like the movie any less. It might just be that I enjoy the more romanticized version of a revolutionary in comparison to the cold anarchist V Alan Moore created. It might be that "strength through unity" seemed to provide a more practical founding statement for a lemming population than "strength through purity," though not as close to the fascist doctrine. Whatever the case, I enjoyed both on different planes but was glad we discussed the major disparities.

V?

As this was my first foray into the previously unknown realm where the graphic novel dwells, I came out with some strong impressions. Laced with shadows. And lots of little straight lines to make those shadows. It wasn't my favourite format for enjoying a novel, but it was interesting. I would like to just mention that while I was trying to find it at Barnes and Noble in the Graphic Novel/Manga/Comic Book section, I received the most "interesting" stares. People's perceptions of graphic novels and those who read them are grossly exaggerated.
I do feel like I missed a lot in this first reading as I had a hard time following separate charactres and story lines, all the while trying to pick up on V's quoted speeches and graffiti in the background and other subtle little clues that may have helped my understanding had I picked up on more of them. I did love the visual creation of the "body" of the state alluded to by the titles of the different sections: The Eye, The Finger, and my favourite- The Nose. Who would want to smell British society?
Honestly though, I was left wondering if British society would be able to pull themselves together or not after V died, or successfully implement V's beloved theory of anarchy. As Finch points out, V should have been able to prevent Finch from shooting him, so why didn't he? Would it ever be possible to right the chaos that V jump-started? Why were so many upper-level party members involved in this human testing program anyway?
I need to read this again, but this time let myself be more distracted by the pictures. In the meantime, I hope things become more clear and that our discussion helps me see deeper than a basic run through of one man's goal for society.

Piercy had cats

The most amazing thing I learned was Prof. Jackson's mention of there having been no internet when Piercy wrote He, She, and It. Her creation of nets and bases must have been as difficult as me now imagining life without the internet, a feat I really don't even want to try. Our society would be completely different. I'm amazed at how Piercy somewhat foresaw and created that.
During our discussion of why Piercy made her charactres Jewish, I found it curious that none of us raised the simple question, "Was Piercy Jewish?" And voila, not only was she raised Jewish, but her grandmother's name was Hannah-a tidbit that just caused me to...giggle. In fact, Piercy's critiques on a male dominated society and her seeming bias of the benefits of females make more sense after reading her biography. As for the Jewish focus of the novel, I do feel she hit on an excellent cultural example. Which other religion contains myths of creating people from nonliving material, in so similar a process as the science fiction notion of a cyborg? And have any other religions been so extremely forced to live in secluded towns, but still served a function in society? Multiple details made the Jews the perfect medium for paralleling the futuristic portion of Piercy's tale. Did I mention she loved cats in her childhood? Or that she had three husbands?
Aside from how much more understandable her motives are when you look into her personal history, we looked at some interesting arguments in class, including, "Two guys a girl and a pizza place, except the pizza place is one of the charactres." (I'm not sure who to credit with that idea).
We never really came to a resolution on whether you have to be able to physically inflict yourself on your environment in order to be granted personhood. Personally, I don't feel the physical aspect has anything to do with personhood, and we were much closer to an answer with Jack's idea of being able to impose your choices on the world. Both Yod and Joseph certainly "imposed" themselves on the world, but beyond a certain point Joseph couldn't make his own choices, and Yod was certainly closer because he not only was capable of affecting the world physically, but of affecting the lives, emotions, and choices of those around him as well. He fits into the human structure and uses human terms to impose himself on the human world. If I had been on the council, after exhausting my allotted 3 minutes of oratory, I would have voted to give Yod personhood. :)

The roles of He, She, and It

Marge Piercy tackles a variety of subjects in He, She, and It, ranging from the constant sexual and violent undertones to the occasional barbs about how humans laid waste to their environment. The most prominent theme, and that for this week's discussion, was her inquiry into what is human. Using her parallel stories- the main storyline of the cyborg Yod created to protect the free town of Tikva and the historically told tale of the golem Joseph created to protect a Jewish ghetto- Piercy is able to confront multiple issues of what defines a human.

Shira Shipman integrates Yod into her family structure and wholly supports him as being just as human as her, but in a different way. Her reflections of Yod being programmed are always quickly followed by the logic that in a sense, humans too are programmed. This seems to be Piercy's primary justification for Yod being given the same privileges as the other citizens of the town and humans as a whole- that just as Yod is programmed to want to achieve certain goals, humans are programmed with goals such as those motherhood induce upon Shira. The golem Joseph has his own wants (his desire for Chava) but he is too obedient a creature to push the boundaries, or perhaps he is uncreated before he has a chance to. Are humans merely the biological equivalent of computers, programmed with our goals in our genes? It's certainly possible.

What I found most interesting were Piercy's gender roles. Truly violent tendencies are only attributed to male charactres- namely Avram, Joseph, Yod, and all of Yod's predecessors- while only female relationships are explored in depth. There are multiple female relationships explored, merely family as well as lesbian relationships and the entire colony of females living in The Black Zone. The clearest form of this opinion lies in the simple fact that Avram failed nine time with his cyborg projects because they were too violent and not personable enough. It was not until Malkah inflicted her female influence upon Yod's programming that the project was successful. Shira herself often speaks appreciatively of how feminine Yod's tendencies and goals were in their relationship.

Perhaps it is through this isolation of charactre traits- violence to men and relationships to women- that Piercy causes us to truly examine them and how all of these traits mesh to form humans.

I would like to note that Yod's one main un-human characteristic (technical specifications aside) is his complete lack of a need to further his species. Rather, he "feels" the complete opposite goal of needing to ensure his race does NOT continue. I found this intriguing.

Step One

How to be a messianic figure in 3 easy steps:
1. Don't die.
2. Don't profess to be any sort of messiah.
3. Fulfill prophecies.
Or so seemed to be the general sort of conclusionary-ish idea we reached. I think essentially that under some definitions Paul could be a messiah, but not under others. Paul is the messiah equivalent of the tomato. A mere religious/political leader by some definitions, a prophesized super human being by others. It all depends on how you look at it. Considering we were looking at it according to a historically and partially religiously based perspective, I think we can conclude that by those standards Paul was a messiah of one breed or another.
The fact that the word play used by Weber crosses the language barrier delighted me. Those are rare occasions, and fortunately this allowed us non-German speaking students to appreciate the intelligence Weber displayed in how he approached his assignment.
As for our note-taking experiment in student labour...no, I jest. As I already stated in class, I take those sort of notes for every class, and I would personally enjoy seeing the diverse interpretations each person pulled from our discussions.

Passion for Politics

As I began reading this, upon Max Weber's classification of politicians being in involved either for or from politics, I couldn't help but begin trying to classify each presidential candidate as living either "for" politics or "from" politics. I laughed.
I got a little sidetracked in this lecture during the section about journalism, which was by far my favourite. Weber seems to put so much faith in journalists' abilities and natural feel for politics, and it almost seems that he laments that their profession doesn't allow for them to aspire to positions of political power because of time allowances. Given that this was published in 1919, I can only imagine what Weber would think of today's fast-paced journalism, with online publications and more immediate deadlines than considered possible in early 20th century Germany. He does hit on the central theme of journalists even today being seen as a pestilent layer of society, but still a necessary instrument in swaying the public opinion to the politicians' ideas. Looking at today's collection of journalists, I can't imagine wanting nearly any of them into positions of political power, though there are always exceptions to be made.
Overall Weber seemed to have an interesting point, but I found his flow of ideas not to be consistent. For example, he went from discussing the American "boss" machine to an organized party structure- a very abrupt transition sans explanation for how one evolved or led to the other. A few other points like this within his lecture undermined some of his arguments, in my opinion.
Maybe it's the cynical American in me that couldn't even begin to believe in the self-sacrificing, individual who attains the perfect balance of passion, responsibility, and sense of proportion that Weber delegates to this hero figure that emerges through years of the evolution of politics as a true politician.

Which Paul?

The entire cyclical aspect of Herbert's writing style was discussed at length and in my opinion was our most important clue to every other aspect of this book. As the reader's we are told nearly every aspect of the plot in advance, yet we continue to read and even enjoy this book through nearly five hundred pages. Any ordinary novel would be tossed aside early on if the author tried this, but in Dune the basic developments in the plot (that we of course know will happen long before they actually occur) are not the entire story. Reading the last page of the book before the rest wouldn't change how you read the book at all. Instead of the plot, an intricate web of the secret agendas of individuals and organizations must be slowly unfolded for us to see the twisted relationships and alliances that guide political, religious, and personal agendas. It was these relationships and agendas that I enjoyed discovering in class. Everyone seemed to have a different opinion.

For instance- personal preference seemed to dictate how people perceived Paul. Or Muad'dib. Or the Duke Paul Altreides. Or the Lisan al-Gaib. Or the Kwisatz Haderach. Which I think may have been intentional on Herbert's part. The central character in the story is multi-faceted, and everyone supported the Paul they liked or identified with most. We don't have one main character, but several rolled into one so that everyone can get what they want from him.

Herbert causes us to see Paul just as the Fremen, Bene Gesserit, and Alreides clan all seem to: getting a bit of what they want from Paul, though their purposes vary.

Dune. Damn.

As a first time reader of Dune, I was astounded. Wow. Therefore at this point my thoughts are still processing as to what it was exactly, that I got out of reading this book. Herbert created a complex web of characters that still each maintained their own personalities and loyalties, and without confusing their relationships. He created an intergalactic system manipulated by four central powers (The Emperor, The Houses, The Bene Gesserit, and The Guild) all of which are concerned with preserving either their line (breeding) or their way of life, or both. How Herbert managed to balance a power situation so precariously between the four groups intrigued me.
I lack the trained perceptions of the Bene Gesserit, so I feel I would pick up a lot more on the subtle clues upon a second, or third reading. On this reading, I think what struck me most was the foresight into today's international dilemmas. Where would the Guild be without it's oil...sorry- its spice? All of the hidden agendas behind controlling this one substance made me more than a little concerned for today's parallel situation.
The patience Herbert's characters exhibited was astounding, though he crafted emotional justification for that quality. The need for a Kwisatz Haderach propels the Bene Gesserit to the art of seduction and selective breeding over thousands of years to perfect the genes of one individual that many of them will never live to see. In a similar fashion, the Fremen devote hundreds of years and even stricter water discipline than they had been accustomed to practicing to the slow ecological transformation of their planet. Herbert manages to find human purpose and discipline in both religion and ecology, an odd mix in my opinion, but well done.
The complicated family structure of The Moon is a Harsh Mistress came to mind as I thought through the Imperium, the Great Houses, the Lesser Houses, and their fief structure spread over the planets. I found it refreshing that Herbert's characters didn't need any new, complicated structures, just good old fashioned marriages for power among those families with power. It was simpler to keep them straight in my mind amid the other relationship intertwinings Herbert was weaving. It probably would have proved difficult to form new structures anyhow, as they would be generally limited to whichever planet they developed on-such as the Fremen act of the father's slayer having responsibility for the dead's family- and would spread no further.
I hope our class discussion will point out to me the things I missed, as I feel there was a lot there that I missed along my discovery of the story.

America&Tiffany

First, I say without reservation that I do enjoy being a guinea pig- to an extent of course. I honestly do enjoy experimentation in the classroom, whether it works out as planned or not. Either way it's new, different, and at least holds potential for improvement (not that I have any qualms with the class now or think it necessarily needs improvement). Though the TiffanyScreens software was not overly cooperative (despite it's perky title) there was one aspect of it that I really enjoyed. It allowed us the opportunity to see how the different groups approached the same question from radically different angles and have a more diversified approach to discussion. For example, I enjoyed both the group who presented similar themes found in much older writings and the group who presented the banned cartoons illustrating those same ideas. Not that I wasn't a fan of the Wikipedia page and medical manifest destiny too.
As for the actual course of our discussion and Manifest Destiny itself, I feel we focused to much on particulars to get to what really deserved clarification. Yes, we established that the United States is and always has been a very religious state, despite popular belief to the contrary, which Stephanson did an excellent job of narrating. I felt that the specifics of which particular religions were involved got in the way of discussion on the idea as a whole. It was important that the Protestants were so involved in the formation of American ideals, but in the spread of Stephanson's work, "Protestant," could have been replaced with nearly any branch of Catholicism or bible-following religion and history would have followed the same flow. Stephanson's point that the idea of a religious mandate for a "manifest destiny" sprouted from biblical teachings and not any teaching peculiar to the Protestant following.
I think what best sums up my thoughts on this entire work are the things that went through my head upon viewing that tasteless Looney Toons depiction of Japanese culture:
Are there really people in positions of such power (yes, Looney Toons is a position power) that are so close minded and willing to misdirect our society's perceptions? Well, I suppose it's nothing new, this has been happening ever since those religious fanatics came to this continent with their ideas of superiority and a manifest destiny...

Secret Mission: Manifest Destiny

History has never been my favourite subject. However, Manifest Destiny still kept my attention and I was astounded by how much I learned. Of course everyone is generally familiar with America's Puritan roots, ruthless slaughter of the Native Americans, and ever evolving democratic mission of spreading and inflicting our ideals on the less endowed cultures. Reading Stephanson was like spooning into my mouth bite after bite of historical detail I had never considered before, often before I had swallowed the previous bite. Consequently I felt a bit overwhelmed by the scope of what he covered, but after breaking it down I really appreciated his analyses, and occasionally his language.
The best phrase in the entire book I found on the top of page 45, "it was as usual a genocidal catastrophe for the Indian population." I first thought such a nonchalant mention of this egregious error of American history must be a mistake. After all, what else could the United States possibly have done that was so wrong, as well as embarrassing? Certainly there would have to be more mention of this subject, because I couldn't think of any other comparable actions. And so I grew more and more amazed at the discovery of secret orders to prepare for war, hidden agendas to take over smaller nations or territories if only a politically correct cover could be found, and even playing with Mexico's political leaders -all in the name of gaining territory.
The religious implications too were astounding. The origination of the phrase, "manifest destiny," itself had a long history of use and revival, and it seemed to me was often used as an excuse. People only needed validation that they in some way had a right to new lands in order for them to perform inexcusable slaughter and takeover. Granted, this was not always the case and much of unsettled America was empty of population, but then again, much of it was not. My discovery from this book that religion and the "divine" duty rooting back from, "go forth and multiply," were primary tools of American expansionism stretching from the beginning of the book and the first American settlers, clear through to the election of Ronald Reagan as president and his revival of the idea of one nation under the one true faith.
I think the best comment I can give this book is that it caused me outright to ponder each and every word, and the consequences of those words for American history.

Space for Jailbirds

Personally, I loved The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, despite the predictable ending. Robert Heinlein managed something I believe few authors can achieve effectively in not only creating a seamless new world with its own language and customs, but also creating charactres with depth and personality within it. What is at first an awkward sentence structure with strange slang terms slowly becomes familiar. Alongside the reader adjusting to Loonie culture, the charactres grow and change in terms with their volatile situation. The most fascinating of these is the metamorphosis of "Mike" from simply being a highly operational computer to a sentient being and finally to what could nearly be classified as a genuinely feeling human being who also happens to have a few other amazing capabilities. This change is witnessed primarily through demonstrations of how Mike changes his functions and through his conversations with his first and oldest friend, Mannie. This evolution of sentience was the most intriguing element to me, though of course the tale of revolution holds multiple political messages as well.
Being the human side of the plotting of their revolution, Professor de la Paz created the only truly unbelievable element for me. His understanding of human nature and how to manipulate political pressures was too perfect, though it was appropriate that his idea of not having much of a government on Luna fell to pieces following his death. I understand that Mike was supposedly behind all of this, with his analyses of every foreseeable outcome of everything, but somehow the Prof seemed to be at least ninety percent sure of himself throughout every decision involving human nature and revolution. Not only that, but he was always right. I would at least like to think that human behaviors are not so predictable, but that may just be idealistic.
After I finished reading The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, I thought back to our theme for this week -Space as the Final Frontier- and the implications that in this novel the only thing that pushed humans to venture into space was the growing need of somewhere to dump their unwanted, their overcrowded...their jailbirds. Amidst the uplifting themes of freedom and revolution there was a constant undercurrent of rejection from Terra society. As shown through the numerous references to historical events concerning colonies and liberation -such as the "coincidental" declaration of Luna being released on July 4th- man didn't forge ahead to new horizons, he merely repeated history, yet again. Loonies were not adventurous space settlers, they were the citizens that Terra didn't want and could thus exploit.

Heinlein effectively builds empathy for social outcasts such as those in his fictional penal colony on Earth's moon, and consequently his political ideas. It was in this book that the term “rational anarchist” was first used, enforcing the point that Heinlein's political ideology is entrenched in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. However, multiple political viewpoints are represented and Heinlein gives fair play to all of those that assist his cause. The Prof and Mannie's visit to Terra points out the flaws of the standard bureaucracy, while the Prof's ad hoc congress fails to achieve any progress of merit. The rational anarchist himself, the Prof, fails to sway anyone to his particular opinions, but this in itself proves his ideology.

There are of course nearly innumerable examples and ideologies to be found, but throughout The Moon is a Harsh Mistress shines Heinlein's libertarian ideals and passion for good betting odds.

The Purpose of The Time Machine

Other than the obvious purpose of the time machine -to travel in time- we looked at several different possible purposes of The Time Machine in class. Possibilities such as it being a warning against abandoning the grindstone of progress struck me as being the most probable motivation for Wells, given the historical context it was written during. This line of thought, that people actually thought everything of importance had been discovered and there wasn't really anywhere else to discover led me to wonder if this had a link we missed in Wells' writing. Space travel had been brought up, such as in Jules Vernes works, but in 19th Century London, space wasn't considered. Everything major had been accomplished, right? Just as we remarked that in The Time Machine the Time Traveler didn't find that people had traveled into space or any progress in an outward direction, they had remained at home just like the good old British of Wells' time were expecting to. I think it only stands to reason that the Time Traveler never found evidence of space travel or progress, because that was part of the point Wells' may have been making about people already being on a path to atrophy unless they continued with discovery and exploration.
However, I think Wells was given far too little credit as an author. Granted, this doesn't make for the best novel, but I tend to look more at the literary aspect of things, and as we mentioned, Wells didn't intend this to be a novel. Perhaps we viewed it as lacking literary drama because we didn't view it in an episodic manner, but a span. Even as a novel though, the premise it presents has still drawn a reading audience for decades, whatever else its shortcomings. I also appreciated how insignificant characters such as the Editor -he edits- didn't merit names the reader wouldn't have recalled anyhow. If Wells' had done this without distinction, we would have known the Morlocks merely as "ground dwellers" and the Eloi as "the dancing flower people" or something of the sort. The fact that Wells' gives them creative titles leads me to believe we missed something significant here. Then again, I could just be creating what I want to be there from what an author added on a whim.