Professor Challenger gathers his companions from The Lost World and their oxygen supply at his home to await together Earth’s passage through a belt of ether that seems destined to poison most of the Earth’s inhabitants. From a window in the professor’s home, the group observes the ether’s effects. Will they survive, and if they do, what will post-apocalyptic life be like?

This novella hasn’t aged well. It seems obvious where the plot is headed because journalist Malone is writing in the first person, and it’s reasonable to assume that he is writing for readers outside of this small group. If this book passes the Bechdel test, it’s with a D minus, and the racial epithets would not be tolerated from a current author as they were in Doyle’s day.

One passage struck a chord with me:
You are to picture the loveliness of nature upon that August day, the freshness of the morning air, the golden glare of the summer sunshine, the cloudless sky, the luxuriant green of the Sussex woods, and the deep purple of heather-clad downs. As you looked round upon the many-coloured beauty of the scene all thought of a vast catastrophe would have passed from your mind had it not been for one sinister sign—the solemn, all-embracing silence. There is a gentle hum of life which pervades a closely-settled country, so deep and constant that one ceases to observe it, as the dweller by the sea loses all sense of the constant murmur of the waves. The twitter of birds, the buzz of insects, the far-off echo of voices, the lowing of cattle, the distant barking of dogs, roar of trains, and rattle of carts—all these form one low, unremitting note, striking unheeded upon the ear. We missed it now. This deadly silence was appalling. So solemn was it, so impressive, that the buzz and rattle of our motor-car seemed an unwarrantable intrusion, an indecent disregard of this reverent stillness which lay like a pall over and round the ruins of humanity. It was this grim hush, and the tall clouds of smoke which rose here and there over the country-side from smoldering buildings, which cast a chill into our hearts as we gazed round at the glorious panorama of the Weald.

This passage brought back memories of the days following September 11, 2001, when the skies were empty of planes and helicopters. I live and work close enough to several airports that the sound of planes and helicopters is background noise, “striking unheeded upon the ear.” The silence is one of my strongest memories from a day I’ll never forget. ( )

Uno dei più bei racconti apocalittici del filone di quell'epoca.
( )

http://www.susanhatedliterature.net/2019/01/the-poison-belt/ ( )

The second in the beloved series of Professor Challenger sees our brave 4 men chance upon another adventure, this time it's the entire planet that is in inevitable danger by an ethereal poison floating in our atmosphere, waiting to strike and cease every oxygen-breathing soul.

Thoroughly enjoyable, especially if after the ending of the previous, The Lost World, you were left wanting for more adventures of this eccentric band of terribly likeable friends. They still resemble their previous characters, the pompous Challenger, the old grumpy Summerlee, the chivalric born-leader Lord Roxton, and our very own Malone, still sticking to his vocation of jotting down the ghastly state of affairs amidst the apocalypse.

9/10 would recommend for a fun read. ( )

A novella length sequel to The Lost World, in which our characters spend most of their time not doing much, just sitting in a sealed room, watching the end of the world through a window. Then it doesn't happen.

The science is entertaining bunk, the racism and sexism casually prevalent and typical of adventure novels from this period, and an awful lot of people die - but from a distance, so no gore or emotion needs to be expended.

However, Professor Challenger remains a star. His impossible egotism and arrogance are as funny as ever, and that is really what the book is about Read The Lost World first, and if you enjoy it, give this a try. ( )