Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    A Journey to the Center of the Earth
    A Journey to the Center of the Earth
    A Journey to the Center of the Earth
    Ebook379 pages7 hours

    A Journey to the Center of the Earth

    By Jules Verne

    3.5/5

    ()

    Switch to audiobook
    Read preview

    About this ebook

    "Journey to the Center of the Earth" is a classic 1864 science fiction novel by Jules Verne. The story involves ger professor Otto Lidenbrock who believes there are volcanic tubes going toward the centre of the Earth. He, his nephew Axel, and their guide Hans descend into an Icelandic volcano, encountering many adventures, including prehistoric animals and natural hazards, before eventually coming to the surface again in southern Italy, at the volcano 'Stromboli'.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOtbebookpublishing
    Release dateDec 27, 2015
    ISBN9783956761164
    Author

    Jules Verne

    Jules Verne (1828–1905) was a prolific French author whose writing about various innovations and technological advancements laid much of the foundation of modern science fiction. Verne’s love of travel and adventure, including his time spent sailing the seas, inspired several of his short stories and novels.

    Read more from Jules Verne

    Related to A Journey to the Center of the Earth

    Related ebooks

    General Fiction For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Two Poems

      Nov 1, 2018

      Our house in the 100-year flood plainflooded. They say thatfor another 800 years a hurricanelike this will not come. My internetis down and my smart phone hurts my thumbsarthritic. I’m running out of data.All my books are in boxes. Please referto my

      3 min read

    • Article

      Meet The Author

      Mar 16, 2020

      Richard Wadley is a retired geologist and mining company executive. In 2005, he moved to the Waterberg Plateau near the town of Vaalwater with his wife Lyn, where he began a 12-year process of researching and writing Waterberg Echoes. At more than 80

      3 min read

    • Article

      The Herero

      Nov 29, 2022

      The Herero
      5 min read

    • Article

      Give Us A Clue

      Oct 13, 2021

      Give Us A Clue
      4 min read

    • Article

      Your LETTERS

      Nov 12, 2021

      Your LETTERS
      7 min read

    • Article

      How It All Began

      Feb 5, 2020

      How It All Began
      8 min read

    • Article

      The Fly King Speaks: Meet Fredrik Sjöberg, author of the sleeper hit, The Fly Trap.

      Mar 12, 2015

      So I’m reading The Fly Trap by Fredrik Sjöberg, a slim book by a writer I’ve never heard of, and I’m riveted for reasons I can’t explain. I honestly have no idea what the book is about. The author begins by talking about the time he worked as a prop

      6 min read

    • Article

      The Book Next To The One I Was Looking For

      Jul 25, 2018

      The journey home for Odysseus was a long and tortuous one. Beset by mythical monsters, seductive goddesses, and the chill of loneliness, the warrior king never fell prey to despair. There is a story in “The Odyssey” in which Odysseus and his crew mus

      2 min read

    • Article

      Going Dutch

      Dec 8, 2021

      THIS work covers a period neatly book-ended by two sea journeys: those of Matilda, William the Conqueror’s Flemish-speaking wife, and the Dutch William of Orange in 1688. Between the two dates, the fortunes of Anglo-Dutch literary relations, like tho

      5 min read

    • Article

      La Otra Historia

      Jun 30, 2022

      La Otra Historia
      14 min read

    • Article

      The Power Of One Book

      Jun 8, 2023

      The Power Of One Book
      5 min read

    • Article

      Chitchat

      Nov 24, 2023

      Chitchat
      12 min read

    • Article

      O, Brave Old World!

      Dec 19, 2017

      O, Brave Old World!
      2 min read

    • Article

      The Deep Humanity Of Books

      Jul 27, 2023

      The Deep Humanity Of Books
      4 min read

    • Article

      Peace Comes With A Smile

      Nov 11, 2019

      Peace Comes With A Smile
      8 min read

    • Article

      Gulliver’s Travels

      Oct 30, 2018

      Gulliver’s Travels
      5 min read

    • Article

      Foreign Affairs

      Dec 1, 2022

      Foreign Affairs
      24 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for A Journey to the Center of the Earth

    3.5/5

    1,935 ratings87 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

    • 4/5
      Jules Verne’s Journey to the Centre of the Earth follows the German professor Otto Lindenbrock and his nephew Axel as they, along with their guide Hans, descend into the Icelandic volcano Snæfellsjökull, see various prehistoric animals, and return via the Stromboli volcano in Italy. Verne found inspiration in the geologist Charles Lyell’s 1863 book, Geological Evidences of the Antiquity of Man as well as some of the works of Edgar Allan Poe. This edition, published by Oxford University Press, features a new translation from the original French by William Butcher. The book also features an introduction situating Verne and his work in its historical milieu as well as an explanation of the translation. As part of the Oxford World’s Classics series, the novel features explanatory notes for many of the scientific and foreign-language terms Verne used to add verisimilitude to the book. Though typically classified as science-fiction, the term was not popularized until Hugo Gernsback used it in the 1920s, and Verne himself would have considered this an adventure novel as it focuses more on the journey than the science or technology involved in getting there. This edition works well for those studying science-fiction and its history, though, and is a must-read for even the casual fan!
    • 4/5
      Professor Leidenbrock and his nephew Axel find a mysterious note suggesting an Icelandic geologist traveled to the center of the earth and lived to tell the tale. The two prepare for the long and arduous journey to Iceland, for that is where the geologist began, and enlist the help of an Icelander named Hans to assist with the journey below ground. Not to spoil a 150-year-old book, but the trio makes it to the center of the earth after several setbacks and strange occurrences, and return safely to ground level.There is a scene near the start of the book in which Professer Leidenbrock and Axel are arguing about what they may find in the center of the earth. The nephew believes that the center would be liquid rock and metal. The professor is convinced that it is solid rock. Both trot out a series of scientific facts and figures to prove their points. Readers are of course meant to side with the Professor and, indeed, he is proven correct later in the book (or there would be no book), but as a modern reader, knowing that the nephew is actually correct, the exchange is pretty hilarious.While the science is obviously not accurate, the book itself is fun. It’s an adventure story written by a master. We read the story from Axel’s point of view, who is reluctant about everything involved in this journey. This makes for a pleasant “surprise” when Axel is proven wrong. If you’ve only ever seen the film version starring James Mason, you will be surprised at some of the differences. I hope you have fun with this classic, as I did.
    • 3/5
      I have to admit that Jules Verne is harder to read as an adult than as a bright-eyed, impressionable kid. There is so much wonder on these pages, and yet I felt like I needed to work far too hard to get at it - the adventure is hidden behind steampunk techno-babble in a way that modern writers would never be able to get away with. Still, I'm glad to have revisited this book, and I will continue to work through the Verne canon, disillusioned though I am.
    • 4/5
      I probably wouldn't have gotten through this very quickly had I been reading it on my own rather than listening to Tim Curry's masterful performance. He was able to infuse so much character into it, and it truly helped me to appreciate how well done this story really is. There really is a lot of character there. There is also A LOT of detailed geological and instrumental description that probably would have bogged me down, even though I understand it, it's not always the most exciting reading, but definitely added realism to the story. Axel and his uncle Otto, and their guide Hans, really have very distinct personalities that add humor to the story which I believe I would have missed without having the assistance of Tim's reading.

      I highly recommend listening to this version, as we like to say Tim Curry could read the phone book and it would be a 5 star performance. He brings this classic adventure story to life and I'm happy to have experienced it!
    • 4/5
      Professor Otto Lidenbrock, his nephew Axel, and their guide Hans, descend into Iceland's Snæfellsjökull volcano in an attempt to reach the center of the earth. This classic adventure tales is obviously aged, but doesn't feel dated at all; it feels as if someone contemporary wrote an adventure story in an old style - the storyline is exciting enough and has a "new" feel to it. Great story, recommended for all.
    • 4/5
      “Science fiction is a genre of fiction with imaginative but more or less plausible content such as settings in the future, futuristic science and technology, space travel, parallel universes, aliens, and paranormal abilities. Exploring the consequences of scientific innovations is one purpose of science fiction, making it a "literature of ideas" Science fiction has been used by authors and film/television program makers as a device to discuss philosophical ideas such as identity, desire, morality and social structure etc.”This definition of Science fiction copied from Wiki does not really apply to Jules Verne’s [A Journey to the Centre of the Earth]: the action does not take place in the future, there are no aliens, space travel, or paranormal abilities. The book does not attempt to explore the consequences of scientific innovation and there is little evidence of a “literature of ideas” however the book feels like science fiction, because there is a healthy dollop of geology and physics from the mid 19th century that is stretched to breaking point and beyond by Verne’s imagination and there could also be a case made for a sort of parallel universe in that our three heroes discover another world below the earth’s crust.Abe books’s list of the 50 essential science fiction novels starts with Jules Verne’s classic story: claiming that it pretty much started the whole thing. I think of it more as an adventure story, which uses a scientific background to add some credibility to the fantastic story line, but it is an adventure story first and foremost..Verne presents us with three very different characters. They are the irascible, brilliant but driven scientist Professor Liedenbrock, Axel, his nephew; enthusiastic, intelligent, frightened and accident prone and Hans, the taciturn Icelander; servant to Liendenbrock who quietly gets on and does everything to ensure the survival of his two companions. They embark on an old fashioned treasure hunt, but without any treasure just Liedenbrock’s desire to travel to the centre of the earth. The story is told from Axel’s point of view and his early portrait of Liedenbrock is both amusing and witty. Axel is a student of geology and his keen interest in the landscape as they travel to an extinct volcano in Iceland gives Verne license to write some excellent prose on both the Icelandic people and their environment and although the adventure proper does not start until the party reach the volcano there are no dull patches in the early part of the book. Once they descend into the crater; Verne ramps up the excitement and there are some extraordinary events to describe; Axel’s sense of doom when he becomes separated from the party, the violent electrical storm on the inland sea and of course the amazing volcanic eruption near the end of the story.A story that was familiar to me from having read it a long time ago and from the film versions that I had seen did not disappoint when I re-read the novel today. I felt thoroughly entertained. An adventure story that has stood the test of time, but it’s not really science fictionThe version I read was the one published in 1877, which is free in the public domain and the translation by the reverend Frederick Amadeus Malleson reads well enough not to need a more modern translation. Not great literature, but a well told fantasy story that I would rate at 3.5 stars
    • 5/5
      Unabridged version, so original manuscript and totally exciting to read... I enjoyed reading this novel. I think young reader must read this great book.
    • 5/5
      Jules Verne is often called the first science fiction author, and though this book is more fantasy than reality, its main character definitely establishes what now seems to be the stereotypical boisterous, overzealous, obsessive-but-lovable scientist character in Otto Lidenbrock; I couldn't help but imagine Christopher Lloyd's Doc Brown whenever he was described. The plot manages to take off right away, but just when you think Lidenbrock is figuring everything out too easily, he struggles, a nice dose of reality. Verne mixes serious science with adventure, and though he definitely errs on the side of the latter (the end was just a touch too unbelievable for my taste), the novel is a classic response to the times in which it was written. The characters repeatedly have to question whether the theories and science they believe in are right based on the evidence they encounter, a metaphor that fittingly describes the challenge Darwin posed to society with the publication of his "On the Origin of Species" five years before this book was released. My biggest disappointment was that the females are relegated to stay-at-home-and-wait roles in the story; the main female character actually seemed like a strong and capable person, but didn't get to join the adventure. Otherwise, this was a fun read that would be perfect for capturing the interest of readers from the middle grades and up.
    • 4/5
      Das Buch war deutlich besser als erwartet. Da ich kein großer Fan von Science Fiction bin, hatte ich nicht viel erwartet, es war einfach ein Experiment, den alten Klassiker einmal zu lesen. Faszinierend war für mich dann auch eher die Reise in die Vergangenheit, die das Buch mir ermöglichte, als die zum Mittelpunkt der Erde. Die alte Sprache meiner Übersetzung, die Beschreibung der Reise nach Island und vor allem die wissenschaftlichen Vorstellungen dieser Zeit. Äußerst faszinierend, gepaart mit einer spannenden Geschichte, die das Lesen leicht macht. Die von mir gelesene Ebook-Ausgabe von NTS Editions hatte des öfteren komplett falsche Wörter im Text, wo die OCR-Software offenbar s und f nicht unterscheiden konnte. Einmal erkannt machte das aber nicht mehr viel aus. Insgesamt eine klare Empfehlung, allerdings mehr an den historisch Interessierten als an Science-Fiction-Fans.
    • 4/5
      A great classic!
    • 3/5
      "Et quacumque viam dederit fortuna sequamur""And whatever route fortune gives, we shall follow"This IS your great-great-great-grandfather's adventure story, so reader beware. There's a lot of walking, a lot of exposition, and quite frankly, not a lot of action. But keep in mind...this is an original. Our modern day sensibilities expect high action out of our adventure stories…monsters, critters, thrill-a-minute. But in a much different time when society was in a much different state, "Journey to the Center of the Earth" set the table for the adventure/scifi stories of the future. The story revolves around German Professor and "Savant" Otto Lidenbrock, though is narrated by his nephew, Axel. The two come across a manuscript that references an Icelandic explorer's expedition to the center of the earth. Upon deciphering the document, Lidenbrock exclaims: "Let no one take it into his head before us to try and discover the center of the earth." And off they go.While much of the middle third of the book reads like a travelogue of northern Europe and anthropological tour of Iceland, the driving force of the story is the eccentric genius of Professor Lidenbrock. The professor is characterized by a certain "madness", as described by Axel. This obsessiveness is a driving characteristic that one can see across the literary spectrum of those who break new ground. In fact, one can see it across the spectrum of real life explorers as well. For without a little "crazy", who might have the strength and fortitude to forge ahead almost heedless of circumstances. Without the single-minded obsession and force of will, how would humans be driven to the hearts of darkness that lie at the root of all discovery?Like modern science fiction, Verne delves into the 19th century equivalent of cutting edge science with much speculation on portable artificial light, and various natural sciences related to deep earth biology and geology. Whereas Michael Crichton turned the real science of the possibilities of cloning extinct dinosaurs, Verne speculates on evolution, and deep earth temperatures.I couldn't help but compare the early chapters of Jules Verne's "Journey to the Center of the Earth" to H.G. Wells' "The Time Machine" or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's "The Lost World". They share a certain vibe in their respective late 19th/early 20th century writing style and tone. They're reminiscent, but different…"Journey" has much more of a sense of humor, and is particularly light-hearted during the early stage-setting scenes in Germany.I liked it. I didn't love it, but I'm glad I read it.
    • 4/5
      Everyone knows the basic premise of Journey to the Centre of the Earth - but like so many novels that have made their way into the public consciousness (Frankenstein, anyone?) it's still well worth reading the original, because they're never quite what you think! Like a game of Chinese Whispers, things get so distorted and simplified along the way that nothing beats going back to the source...As most of you will already know, the novel pretty much does what it says on the tin; it begins with Professor Lidenbrock, a geologist, scientist and all-round intellectual (the book calls him a savant)*, finding an ancient piece of parchment, inscribed in code, left in a book by the Icelandic explorer Arne Saknussemm. When he finally deciphers the code, he is astonished to find that the parchment contains the precise location of the starting point of a journey to the centre of the earth. His interest piqued, the eccentric professor immediately sets out for Iceland, dragging his long-suffering nephew with him. There he hires a guide, ascends Mount Sneffels, and determinedly follows Saknessumm's footsteps down into the bowels of the earth...I made that sound like the start of the story, right? Indeed, the blurb of my Penguin Popular Classics edition states that "Their journey... begins on the summit of a volcano..." Well, yes, but what it DOESN'T mention is that 100 pages into the 250-page book, they are only just reaching the crater that marks the real start of their adventure. This is not a novel that plunges you head-first into action and excitement; it takes a LONG time to get going, and nearly half the book is taken up by the description of the trip to - and across - Iceland. I couldn't help but think that if this was a modern novel, it would probably have been returned to the author with 'PACING!!!' scrawled across it in red ink...Fortunately the pace soon picks up once the descent begins, and from that point onwards, the novel becomes a rip-roaring tale, crammed with drama and peril, excitement and discovery, all narrated by young Axel and sprinkled with scientific intrigue. It must be said that Verne doesn't always wear his science lightly - at times his novel reads more like a scientific-minded vintage travelogue - but then another dramatic event will occur, or another wonder will be uncovered, and the reader is captivated all over again. Not that the scientific elements are dull, particularly - in fact, Axel can become quite poetic about his pet subject, and some of the historical details are fascinating - but there is a liberal sprinkling of Latin names and geological jargon that requires a little care and concentration to grasp.I think it was probably the three main characters themselves that made the novel for me (that, and the incredible prehistoric cavern with its glowing light and subterranean sea). While Axel is probably the weakest of the characters - he reminded me rather unfortunately of Fanny Price, constantly keeling over or going into a blind panic even as his middle-aged uncle strode calmly on - he has a gently wry sense of humour and describes his companions very astutely. He paints a wonderful picture of his uncle as the archetypal eccentric genius: determined, short-tempered, single-minded and completely ignorant of his own flaws. Their hulking guide Hans, in contrast, is always calm, extremely skilled and capable, strong and unshakeable; he is their rock and their saviour on many occasions, like some kind of Nordic Superman. It made me smile when Axel described his eyes as 'dreamy blue' - the hero-worship, the sheer awe with which he reveres him definitely borders on a man-crush at times!Would I recommend reading this book? Well, yes, of course - it is a classic adventure story, and as I said before, it has worked its way into the public consciousness to such an extent that it really deserves to be enjoyed in its own right. It is not a fast-paced thriller, but it is one of the most famous fictional journeys in literature; it occasionally wears its scientific background heavily, but read in the right spirit is crammed with interesting nuggets of information; its narrating character is not the most witty or memorable of men, but he describes his surroundings beautifully. I'm not sure yet whether it's going to be a keeper for me, but I AM glad to have honoured my childhood love for Verne's imagination and read the original at last!
    • 3/5
      Interesting, and a classic of sci-fi, this is my favorite of Verne's books. That being said, it is fairly disjointed and anticlimactic. The title is accurate in that the story focuses on the journey itself, rather than the experience in the center of the Earth.
    • 3/5
      I read a much abridged version of this as a kid but never the whole thing, and I'm glad to have finally read it. It was kind of historically fascinating, and I found Axel a really interesting and unexpected narrator. I think I was expecting something different from the tone, so that was really compelling for me.
    • 2/5
      I should first say that the 2 stars I have given this book is based on my own personal feeling when reading the book. This novel is certainly a classic - there's no denying that. But naturally it has shown its age over the many years since it was first written, and in a way I think it is unfair to judge the book through strictly modern eyes. Many modern readers, particularly children and young adults, will find it dull and didactic in the extreme; and perhaps its use now lies in the fact that it gives a unique snapshot of the birth of science fiction and the conceptions man had of the future at that point in time.
    • 3/5
      A young man, Axel, and his German uncle, Professor Von Hardwigg, undertake an incredible journey based on some notes from an explorer. They attempt to travel to the center of the earth, a daunting and terrifying trip. Their guide Hans is a loyal man and agrees to travel with them. I can’t imagine the power of reading this book when it was first published in 1864. It would have seemed truly mind-blowing to imagine the fantastical world they encountered, but reading it in the 21st century makes for a much dryer experience. It’s harder to be swept away in the adventure when we have a better idea of what is and isn’t possible in exploration. I was surprised by how much of the book is just building up to their journey. The first half of the novel is about deciphering a code and then traveling to the starting point of the descent into the earth. We’re halfway through the novel before they actually reach their destination. The characters are not easy to like. Hans is kind and saves the Professor and Axel during a storm, but the rest of the time he feels very two-dimensional. The Professor is cold and calculating. He’s more concerned with scientific discovery than with the safety of his traveling companions. When they finally reach their destination they see some incredible things. They go fishing and catch creatures that they’ve only ever seen as fossils. They see Pterodactyl flying through the sky. In one scene they float through an ancient ocean on a raft and the see a sea battle between two gigantic monsters, an Ichthyosaurus and a Plesiosaurus. The terrifying fight takes place not far from their small vessel. They’ve stumbled upon a prehistoric world where dinosaurs still exists. There’s one section that has particularly stayed with me since I finished the book. Our narrator, Axel, is separated from his uncle in the cave system. He is completely lost and the darkness is all encompassing. It’s terrifying to think of being lost and alone and knowing you will almost certainly die. BOTTOM LINE: The story swings between exciting moments and dull descriptions. Worth a read if you’re interested, but not a must if you aren’t enthralled by Verne’s work. “On earth during the most profound and comparatively complete darkness, light never allows a complete destruction and extinction of its power. Light is so diffuse, so subtle, that it permeates everywhere, and whatever little may remain, the retina of the eye will succeed in finding it. In this place nothing--the absolute obscurity made me blind in every sense.” 
    • 5/5
      I loved the adventure and suspense!!!!!!!!!!!
    • 3/5
      Well-written, but talky and often boring account of a scientific journey through an active volcano to reach the earth's core. A book I started in high school ,but couldn't finish. I finally read it a couple of years ago and was hugely disappointed. Still, there some exciting parts and descriptions filled with wonder.
    • 3/5
      Unimpressive writing, dull pacing and stick-thin characters (Hans is an android, I swear it) make this a tough read. Written to introduce children to science, it mostly lends amusement for the things it got wrong and the other far-fetched things it proposes that might lurk beneath the Earth's surface. It's frustrating to read about the most basic rules of cave exploration being ignored, and a professor obsessed with science who can't be bothered to give more than cavalier attention to any startling thing he discovers. Didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, but at least the ending had some excitement to it.
    • 3/5
      Through most of the novel, I was intrigued by Verne's descriptions and scientific explanations of the time period. Overall, it was an interesting story, but I was underwhelmed by the resolution and after finishing it, the whole thing seemed pretty anticlimactic. I think one has to go into reading a Verne novel with the expectations of fascinating and outdated science instead of focusing too much on the plot to really enjoy it.
    • 5/5
      Very impressed. Had I read this book and not known when it was written I could imagine that it had been written in the past 60 years. Easy story to read and completely enjoyable. I was hooked at an early stage of the book.
    • 3/5
      It was ok...a little disappointing, really. Seemed to end very abruptly and I can't find it in me to like or even sympathize with Axel...
    • 3/5
      Oh, I really liked Leagues... I'll have to read this one! I have a Verne collection here at home... time to dive in!
    • 4/5
      I thought I should read Jules Verne, H.G. Wells and books like that before I start in on steampunk. Jules Verne puts the science in science fiction. I personally love that he writes about geology or biology in his bizarre narratives. Just to learn a bit! This one does have a bit of a slow start to get to the mountain to go underground... it's around page 80. But then the story picks up speed and it keeps one-uping itself with what is found under that Icelandic volcano. I loved the story more than I thought I would of Professor Otto Lidenbrock, his nephew Axel, and the trusty Icelandic assistant Hans, always getting them out of a bind. The book is far less boring than I thought it would be. (And also, I want to avoid any movies made from these books, since I can't imagine they're better.) But try not to find it interesting when a character is lost 75 miles under the earth and then his torch goes out... and I don't want to mention anything else they find to ruin the book. I love most 19th century stories and this is no exception but it seemed like I was reading this one in five page chunks. I'm looking forward to others from Verne though! And I can't wait to get into steampunk!
    • 5/5
      Rollicking adventure story, this reading prompted by a visit to Jules Verne's old house in Amiens. The modern reader quickly grasps why generations through the 19th and 20th centuries could not put Verne’s works down. Replete with science, imagination, suspense, eccentric characters almost as memorable as the dramatic scenarios, all fascinating despite being all so dated. Exciting scenes and big ideas, with the bold illustrations (”Vignettes”) of Riou helping to convey the story even through the most fanciful passages. A Verne revival is surely waiting only for the right cinematic boost.Here a headstrong professor from Hamburg follows a deciphered fragment from a long lost and persecuted scholar to a volcanic crater in Iceland, and, along with his overly fraught nephew and a stoic Icelandic huntsman, seizes a brief opening in the summer months to penetrate the .... well, you get the idea and the title gives the essentials. Read it yourself to find out what follows, and prepare to be gripped.
    • 5/5
      I don't really do formal reviews of classics. I'll say that I greatly enjoyed this story. Following the characters down into the Earth wasn't just an adventure but a lesson in the science of the time (though not completely accurate by today's views of the world). I like a good adventure, some learning, and an all-round good story. I'm fast becoming a fan of Jules Verne's work.
    • 5/5
      This is a re-read. It is a very good adventure, one of his best, maintaining a real sense of threat and suffocating claustrophobia under the ground. There are some internal inconsistencies in dates and timings which would probably not get past a modern editor. Good stuff.
    • 4/5
      It's...interesting. I hadn't realized how much the story was a treatise on evolution (as understood at the time). Now I need to read more Verne to see if he's done the same (presumably in other fields) in his other books. It's a little hard to read - the viewpoint character is ridiculously variable - wild mood-swings from "We're all going to fail and die! Now!" to "Let's go! We are great adventurers!". Got a bit hard to take. Verne did some neat elision to get past the most unbelievable part - finding the interior cavern; since the VP character (I really can't call him the hero) is unconscious after tremendous strain, that whole event never gets told. And like that. I spent much more time noticing the writing and the agenda of the author than I did enjoying the story. That may be a mood thing, but right now I feel like there's not a lot of story (and _very_ little characterization - lots of cardboard 'traits', though) to this book.
    • 3/5
      I guess I've been spoiled by modern fast-paced writing. While I did enjoy this book, and it had some great parts, I found a lot of it to be time-killing "filler" type material. Was it really necessary to take 90 pages to actually descend into the earth? Not in my humble opinion.The afterword by Nimoy was interesting, though.
    • 3/5
      1863 German professor Otto Lidenbrock uncovers ancient icelandic writings that suggest a passage to the center of the earth. professor takes his nephew and danish guide Hans on a trip to a world only one other person has seen. The story is inventive but boring in sections weighted down with science. I would have loved to seen more of the world he encounter as it ended a bit abruptly. I read it because it is a classic and i'm sure utterly suspenseful for it's time.

    Book preview

    A Journey to the Center of the Earth - Jules Verne

    A Journey to the Center of the Earth

    Jules Verne

    A Journey to the Center of the Earth

    Jules Verne

    CHAPTER 1. My Uncle Makes a Discovery

    LOOKING back to all that has occurred to me since that eventful day, I am scarcely able to believe in the reality of my adventures. They were truly so wonderful that even now I am bewildered when I think of them.

    My uncle was a German, having married my mother's sister, an Englishwoman. Being very much attached to his fatherless nephew, he invited me to study under him in his home in the fatherland. This home was in a large town, and my uncle a professor of philosophy, chemistry, geology, mineralogy, and many other ologies.

    One day, after passing some hours in the laboratory- my uncle being absent at the time- I suddenly felt the necessity of renovating the tissues- i.e., I was hungry, and was about to rouse up our old French cook, when my uncle, Professor Von Hardwigg, suddenly opened the street door, and came rushing upstairs.

    Now Professor Hardwigg, my worthy uncle, is by no means a bad sort of man; he is, however, choleric and original. To bear with him means to obey; and scarcely had his heavy feet resounded within our joint domicile than he shouted for me to attend upon him.

    Harry- Harry- Harry-

    I hastened to obey, but before I could reach his room, jumping three steps at a time, he was stamping his right foot upon the landing.

    Harry! he cried, in a frantic tone, are you coming up?

    Now to tell the truth, at that moment I was far more interested in the question as to what was to constitute our dinner than in any problem of science; to me soup was more interesting than soda, an omelette more tempting than arithmetic, and an artichoke of ten times more value than any amount of asbestos.

    But my uncle was not a man to be kept waiting; so adjourning therefore all minor questions, I presented myself before him.

    He was a very learned man. Now most persons in this category supply themselves with information, as peddlers do with goods, for the benefit of others, and lay up stores in order to diffuse them abroad for the benefit of society in general. Not so my excellent uncle, Professor Hardwigg; he studied, he consumed the midnight oil, he pored over heavy tomes, and digested huge quartos and folios in order to keep the knowledge acquired to himself.

    There was a reason, and it may be regarded as a good one, why my uncle objected to display his learning more than was absolutely necessary: he stammered; and when intent upon explaining the phenomena of the heavens, was apt to find himself at fault, and allude in such a vague way to sun, moon, and stars that few were able to comprehend his meaning. To tell the honest truth, when the right word would not come, it was generally replaced by a very powerful adjective.

    In connection with the sciences there are many almost unpronounceable names- names very much resembling those of Welsh villages; and my uncle being very fond of using them, his habit of stammering was not thereby improved. In fact, there were periods in his discourse when he would finally give up and swallow his

    discomfiture- in a glass of water.

    As I said, my uncle, Professor Hardwigg, was a very learned man; and I now add a most kind relative. I was bound to him by the double ties of affection and interest. I took deep interest in all his doings, and hoped some day to be almost as learned myself. It was a rare thing for me to be absent from his lectures. Like him, I preferred mineralogy to all the other sciences. My anxiety was to gain real knowledge of the earth. Geology and mineralogy were to us the sole objects of life, and in connection with these studies many a fair specimen of stone, chalk, or metal did we break with our hammers.

    Steel rods, loadstones, glass pipes, and bottles of various acids were oftener before us than our meals. My uncle Hardwigg was once known to classify six hundred different geological specimens by their weight, hardness, fusibility, sound, taste, and smell.

    He corresponded with all the great, learned, and scientific men of the age. I was, therefore, in constant communication with, at all events the letters of, Sir Humphry Davy, Captain Franklin, and other great men.

    But before I state the subject on which my uncle wished to confer with me, I must say a word about his personal appearance. Alas! my readers will see a very different portrait of him at a future time, after he has gone through the fearful adventures yet to be related.

    My uncle was fifty years old; tall, thin, and wiry. Large spectacles hid, to a certain extent, his vast, round, and goggle eyes, while his nose was irreverently compared to a thin file. So much indeed did it resemble that useful article, that a compass was said in his presence to have made considerable N (Nasal) deviation.

    The truth being told, however, the only article really attracted to my uncle's nose was tobacco.

    Another peculiarity of his was, that he always stepped a yard at a time, clenched his fists as if he were going to hit you, and was, when in one of his peculiar humors, very far from a pleasant companion.

    It is further necessary to observe that he lived in a very nice house, in that very nice street, the Konigstrasse at Hamburg. Though lying in the center of a town, it was perfectly rural in its aspect- half wood, half bricks, with old-fashioned gables- one of the few old houses spared by the great fire of 1842.

    When I say a nice house, I mean a handsome house- old, tottering, and not exactly comfortable to English notions: a house a little off the perpendicular and inclined to fall into the neighboring canal; exactly the house for a wandering artist to depict; all the more that you could scarcely see it for ivy and a magnificent old tree which grew over the door.

    My uncle was rich; his house was his own property, while he had a considerable private income. To my notion the best part of his possessions was his god-daughter, Gretchen. And the old cook, the young lady, the Professor and I were the sole inhabitants.

    I loved mineralogy, I loved geology. To me there was nothing like pebbles- and if my uncle had been in a little less of a fury, we should have been the happiest of families. To prove the excellent Hardwigg's impatience, I solemnly declare that when the flowers in the drawing-room pots began to grow, he rose every morning at four o'clock to make them grow quicker by pulling the leaves!

    Having described my uncle, I will now give an account of our interview.

    He received me in his study; a perfect museum, containing every natural curiosity that can well be imagined-minerals, however, predominating. Every one was familiar to me, having been catalogued by my own hand. My uncle, apparently oblivious of the fact that he had summoned me to his presence, was absorbed in a book. He was particularly fond of early editions, tall copies, and unique works.

    Wonderful! he cried, tapping his forehead. Wonderful- wonderful!

    It was one of those yellow-leaved volumes now rarely found on stalls, and to me it appeared to possess but little value. My uncle, however, was in raptures.

    He admired its binding, the clearness of its characters, the ease with which it opened in his hand, and repeated aloud, half a dozen times, that it was very, very old.

    To my fancy he was making a great fuss about nothing, but it was not my province to say so. On the contrary, I professed considerable interest in the subject, and asked him what it was about.

    It is the Heims-Kringla of Snorre Tarleson,he said, the celebrated Icelandic author of the twelfth century- it is a true and correct account of the Norwegian princes who reigned in Iceland.

    My next question related to the language in which it was written. I hoped at all events it was translated into German. My uncle was indignant at the very thought, and declared he wouldn't give a penny for a translation. His delight was to have found the original work in the Icelandic tongue, which he declared to be one of the most magnificent and yet simple idioms in the world- while at the same time its grammatical combinations were the most varied known to students.

    "About as easy as German? was my insidious remark.

    My uncle shrugged his shoulders.

    The letters at all events, I said, are rather difficult of comprehension.

    It is a Runic manuscript, the language of the original population of Iceland, invented by Odin himself, cried my uncle, angry at my ignorance.

    I was about to venture upon some misplaced joke on the subject, when a small scrap of parchment fell out of the leaves. Like a hungry man snatching at a morsel of bread the Professor seized it. It was about five inches by three and was scrawled over in the most extraordinary fashion.

    The lines shown here are an exact facsimile of what was written on the venerable piece of parchment-and have wonderful importance, as they induced my uncle to undertake the most wonderful series of adventures which ever fell to the lot of human beings. (See illustration.)

    My uncle looked keenly at the document for some moments and then declared that it was Runic. The letters were similar to those in the book, but then what did they mean? This was exactly what I wanted to know.

    Now as I had a strong conviction that the Runic alphabet and dialect were simply an invention to mystify poor human nature, I was delighted to find that my uncle knew as much about the matter as I did- which was nothing. At all events the tremulous motion of his fingers made me think so.

    And yet, he muttered to himself, it is old Icelandic, I am sure of it.

    And my uncle ought to have known, for he was a perfect polyglot dictionary in himself. He did not pretend, like a certain learned pundit, to speak the two thousand languages and four thousand idioms made use of in different

    parts of the globe, but he did know all the more important ones.

    It is a matter of great doubt to me now, to what violent measures my uncle's impetuosity might have led him, had not the clock struck two, and our old French cook called out to let us know that dinner was on the table.

    Bother the dinner! cried my uncle.

    But as I was hungry, I sallied forth to the dining room, where I took up my usual quarters. Out of politeness I waited three minutes, but no sign of my uncle, the Professor. I was surprised. He was not usually so blind to the pleasure of a good dinner. It was the acme of German luxury- parsley soup, a ham omelette with sorrel trimmings, an oyster of veal stewed with prunes, delicious fruit, and sparkling Moselle. For the sake of poring over this musty old piece of parchment, my uncle forbore to share our meal. To satisfy my conscience, I ate for both.

    The old cook and housekeeper was nearly out of her mind. After taking so much trouble, to find her master not appear at dinner was to her a sad disappointment- which, as she occasionally watched the havoc I was making on the viands, became also alarm. If my uncle were to come to table after all?

    Suddenly, just as I had consumed the last apple and drunk the last glass of wine, a terrible voice was heard at no great distance. It was my uncle roaring for me to come to him. I made very nearly one leap of it- so loud, so fierce was his tone.

    CHAPTER 2. The Mysterious Parchment

    I DECLARE, cried my uncle, striking the table fiercely with his fist, I declare to you it is Runic- and contains some wonderful secret, which I must get at, at any price.

    I was about to reply when he stopped me.

    Sit down, he said, quite fiercely, and write to my dictation.

    I obeyed.

    I will substitute, he said, a letter of our alphabet for that of the Runic: we will then see what that will produce. Now, begin and make no mistakes.

    The dictation commenced with the following incomprehensible result:

    mm.rnlls esreuel seecJde

    sgtssmf unteief niedrke

    kt,samn atrateS Saodrrn

    emtnaeI nuaect rrilSa

    Atvaar .nscrc ieaabs

    ccdrmi eeutul frantu dt,iac oseibo KediiY

    Scarcely giving me time to finish, my uncle snatched the document from my hands and examined it with the most rapt and deep attention.

    I should like to know what it means, he said, after a long period.

    I certainly could not tell him, nor did he expect me to- his conversation being uniformly answered by himself.

    I declare it puts me in mind of a cryptograph, he cried, unless, indeed, the letters have been written without any real meaning; and yet why take so much trouble? Who knows but I may be on the verge of some great discovery?

    My candid opinion was that it was all rubbish! But this opinion I kept carefully to myself, as my uncle's choler was not pleasant to bear. All this time he was comparing the book with the parchment.

    The manuscript volume and the smaller document are written in different hands, he said, the cryptograph is of much later date than the book; there is an undoubted proof of the correctness of my surmise. [An irrefragable proof I took it to be.] The first letter is a double M, which was only added to the Icelandic language in the twelfth century- this makes the parchment two hundred years posterior to the volume.

    The circumstances appeared very probable and very logical, but it was all surmise to me.

    To me it appears probable that this sentence was written by some owner of the book. Now who was the owner, is the next important question. Perhaps by great good luck it may be written somewhere in the volume.

    With these words Professor Hardwigg took off his spectacles, and, taking a powerful magnifying glass, examined the book carefully.

    On the fly leaf was what appeared to be a blot of ink, but on examination proved to be a line of writing almost effaced by time. This was what he sought; and, after some considerable time, he made out these letters:

    (See illustration.)

    Arne Saknussemm! he cried in a joyous and triumphant tone, that is not only an Icelandic name, but of a learned professor of the sixteenth century, a celebrated alchemist.

    I bowed as a sign of respect.

    These alchemists, he continued, Avicenna, Bacon, Lully, Paracelsus, were the true, the only learned men of the day. They made surprising discoveries. May not this Saknussemm, nephew mine, have hidden on this bit of parchment some astounding invention? I believe the cryptograph to have a profound meaning- which I must make out.

    My uncle walked about the room in a state of excitement almost impossible to describe.

    It may be so, sir, I timidly observed, but why conceal it from posterity, if it be a useful, a worthy discovery?

    Why- how should I know? Did not Galileo make a secret of his discoveries in connection with Saturn? But we shall see. Until I discover the meaning of this sentence I will neither eat nor sleep. My dear uncle- I began.

    Nor you neither, he added.

    It was lucky I had taken double allowance that day.

    In the first place, he continued, there must be a clue to the meaning. If we could find that, the rest would be easy enough.

    I began seriously to reflect. The prospect of going without food and sleep was not a promising one, so I determined to do my best to solve the mystery. My uncle, meanwhile, went on with his soliloquy.

    The way to discover it is easy enough. In this document there are one hundred and thirty-two letters, giving seventy-nine consonants to fifty-three vowels. This is about the proportion found in most southern languages, the idioms of the north being much more rich in consonants. We may confidently predict, therefore, that we have to deal with a southern dialect.

    Nothing could be more logical.

    Now said Professor Hardwigg, to trace the particular language."

    As Shakespeare says, 'that is the question,' was my rather satirical reply.

    This man Saknussemm he continued, was a very learned man: now as he did not write in the language of his birthplace, he probably, like most learned men of the sixteenth century, wrote in Latin. If, however, I prove wrong in this guess, we must try Spanish, French, Italian, Greek, and even Hebrew. My own opinion, though, is decidedly in favor of Latin."

    This proposition startled me. Latin was my favorite study, and it seemed sacrilege to believe this gibberish to belong to the country of Virgil.

    Barbarous Latin, in all probability, continued my uncle, but still Latin.

    Very probably, I replied, not to contradict him.

    Let us see into the matter, continued my uncle; here you see we have a series of one hundred and thirty-two letters, apparently thrown pell-mell upon paper, without method or organization. There are words which are composed wholly of consonants, such as mm.rnlls, others which are nearly all vowels, the fifth, for instance, which is unteief, and one of the last oseibo. This appears an extraordinary combination. Probably we shall find that the phrase is arranged according to some mathematical plan. No doubt a certain sentence has been written out and then jumbled up- some plan to which some figure is the clue. Now, Harry, to show your English wit- what is that figure?

    I could give him no hint. My thoughts were indeed far away. While he was speaking I had caught sight of the portrait of my cousin Gretchen, and was wondering when she would return.

    We were affianced, and loved one another very sincerely.But my uncle, who never thought even of such sublunary matters, knew nothing of this. Without noticing my abstraction, the Professor began reading the puzzling cryptograph all sorts of ways, according to some theory of his own. Presently, rousing my wandering attention, he dictated one precious attempt to me.

    I mildly handed it over to him. It read as follows:

    mmessunkaSenrA.icefdoK.segnittamurtn

    ecertserrette,rotaivsadua,ednecsedsadne

    lacartniiilrJsiratracSarbmutabiledmek

    meretarcsilucoYsleffenSnI

    I could scarcely keep from laughing, while my uncle, on the contrary, got in a towering passion, struck the table with his fist, darted out of the room, out of the house, and then taking to his heels was presently lost to sight.

    CHAPTER 3. An Astounding Discovery

    WHAT is the matter? cried the cook, entering the room; when will master have his dinner?"

    Never.

    And, his supper?

    I don't know. He says he will eat no more, neither shall I. My uncle has determined to fast and make me fast until he makes out this abominable inscription, I replied.

    You will be starved to death, she said.

    I was very much of the same opinion, but not liking to say so, sent her away, and began some of my usual work of classification. But try as I might, nothing could keep me from thinking alternately of the stupid manuscript and of the pretty Gretchen.

    Several times I thought of going out, but my uncle would have been angry at my absence. At the end of an hour, my allotted task was done. How to pass the time? I began by lighting my pipe. Like all other students, I delighted in tobacco; and, seating myself in the great armchair, I began to think.

    Where was my uncle? I could easily imagine him tearing along some solitary road, gesticulating, talking to himself, cutting the air with his cane, and still thinking of the absurd bit of hieroglyphics. Would he hit upon some clue? Would he come home in better humor? While these thoughts were passing through my brain, I mechanically took up the execrable puzzle and tried every imaginable way of grouping the letters. I put them together by twos, by threes, fours, and fives- in vain. Nothing intelligible came out, except that the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth made ice in English; the eighty-fourth, eighty-fifth, and eighty-sixth, the word sir; then at last I seemed to find the Latin words rota, mutabile, ira, nec, atra.

    "Ha! there seems to be some truth in my uncle's notion, thought I.

    Then again I seemed to find the word luco, which means sacred wood. Then in the third line I appeared to make out labiled, a perfect Hebrew word, and at the last the syllables mere, are, mer, which were French.

    It was enough to drive one mad. Four different idioms in this absurd phrase. What connection could there be between ice, sir, anger, cruel, sacred wood, changing, mother, are, and sea? The first and the last might, in a sentence connected with Iceland, mean sea of ice. But what of the rest of this monstrous cryptograph?

    I was, in fact, fighting against an insurmountable difficulty; my brain was almost on fire; my eyes were strained with staring at the parchment; the whole absurd collection of letters appeared to dance before my vision in a number of black little groups. My mind was possessed with temporary hallucination- I was stifling. I wanted air. Mechanically I fanned myself with the document, of which now I saw the back and then the front.

    Imagine my surprise when glancing at the back of the wearisome puzzle, the ink having gone through, I clearly made out Latin words, and among others craterem and terrestre.

    I had discovered the secret!

    It came upon me like a flash of lightning. I had got the clue. All you had to do to understand the document was to read it backwards. All the ingenious ideas of the Professor were realized; he had dictated it rightly to me; by a mere accident I had discovered what he so much desired.

    My delight, my emotion may be imagined, my eyes were dazzled and I trembled so that at first I could make nothing of it. One look, however, would tell me all I wished to know.

    Let me read, I said to myself, after drawing a long breath.

    I spread it before me on the table, I passed my finger over each letter, I spelled it through; in my excitement I read it out.

    What horror and stupefaction took possession of my soul. I was like a man who had received a knock-down blow. Was it possible that I really read the terrible secret, and it had really been accomplished! A man had dared to do- what?

    No living being should ever know.

    Never! cried I, jumping up. Never shall my uncle be made aware of the dread secret. He would be quite capable of undertaking the terrible journey. Nothing would check him, nothing stop him. Worse, he would compel me to accompany him, and we should be lost forever. But no; such folly and madness cannot be allowed.

    I was almost beside myself with rage and fury.

    My worthy uncle is already nearly mad, I cried aloud. This would finish him. By some accident he may make the discovery; in which case, we are both lost. Perish the fearful secret- let the flames forever bury it in oblivion.

    I snatched up book and parchment, and was about to cast them into the fire, when the door opened and my uncle entered.

    I had scarcely time to put down the wretched documents before my uncle was by my side. He was profoundly absorbed. His thoughts were evidently bent on the terrible parchment. Some new combination had probably struck him while taking his walk.

    He seated himself in his armchair, and with a pen began to make an algebraical calculation. I watched him with anxious eyes. My flesh crawled as it became probable that he would discover the secret.

    His combinations I knew now were useless, I having discovered the one only clue. For three mortal hours he continued without speaking a word, without raising his head, scratching, rewriting, calculating over and over again. I knew that in time he must hit upon the right phrase. The letters of every alphabet have only a certain number of combinations. But then years might elapse before he would arrive at the correct solution.

    Still time went on; night came, the sounds in the streets ceased- and still my uncle went on, not even answering our worthy cook when she called us to supper.

    I did not dare to leave him, so waved her away, and at last fell asleep on the sofa.

    When I awoke my uncle was still at work. His red eyes, his pallid countenance, his matted hair, his feverish hands, his hectically flushed cheeks, showed how terrible had been his struggle with the impossible, and what fearful fatigue he had undergone during that long sleepless night. It made me quite ill to look at him. Though he was rather severe with me, I loved him, and my heart ached at his sufferings. He was so overcome by one idea that he could not even get in a passion! All his energies were focused on one point. And I knew that by speaking one little word all this

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1