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3.59 AVERAGE
3.59 AVERAGE
I had high expectations for this classic but was fairly dissapointed. The beginning was interesting and I kept waiting for the end to get interesting, but overall there is soooo much detail on ocean life and almost no information provided on the characters, which is what I really wanted more of. It is hard for me to imagine this as a kids book, perhaps if I were an oceanographer...or perhaps it was just better in its day.
Fantastic annotated edition, as well. Made some of the more obscure references much more accessible.
It was better than I expected. I was interested and hooked quite early on in the book, and I enjoyed M. Aronnax's voice in the storytelling.
adventurous
mysterious
slow-paced
I will not bother to avoid spoilers in this review. It is a story that has been adapted and referred to many times, and has been in print for over a century.
I was drawn to read this book by its submarine theme. I am fascinated by the ocean, so was intrigued to read a narrative that unfolds almost entirely within this setting. That this book is a classic, oft regarded as a foundation piece in the genre of science-fiction, further attracted me to it; further, as a reader of Lovecraft, a part of me was drawn in merely by the suggestion of a conflict with a cephalopod, as advertised on the cover.
Sadly, despite the aforementioned prospects, I found myself somewhat disappointed with this book. I had expected a swashbuckling tale of trouble and turmoil, with dramatic scenes aplenty, and a pervading sense of tension between the captive trio and Captain Nemo himself.
This was not what I received. Instead, it read predominantly as a travelogue. An element of tension was present, characterised mostly by Ned Land, but for the most part our protagonists seemed perfectly pleased to remain on board and simply enjoy their trip beneath the waves.
Not to say this is a bad thing; it just wasn't what I had been led to expect.
These are not my reasons for a middle rating of 3 stars.
It comes down largely to the writing style. Whilst I recognise it is a product of the time, where certain aspects of narrative convention had yet to be established (as is perhaps also a victim of translation errors), I found many sections to be overly slow and mind-numbing. There were, it seemed, more lists than actual narrative, so that at times I felt as though I had accidentally picked up a scientific journal; indeed, much of the language used prompted me to open Google when I had the energy, or to simply skim-read when I was reading before bed.
I must say this: I love to learn. It is a passion of mine to find out new information. That the writing in Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea exhausted and bored me at times shows that, for me, it was not done interestingly enough to encourage further research.
I did enjoy discovering that sperm whales were once named cachalots, however, and a part of me wishes we could reintroduce this name, if only to silence the sniggers of adolescents.
In truth, though, the reading process puts in my mind online references to recipes; you pick it up wanting to read a certain thing (in the case of a recipe, how to make the food; in the case of this book, certain scenes popularised by Hollywood and the like), but find you have to trawl through paragraphs of barely relevant detail first (recipe: a miniature essay of just how much the meal means to the writer; this book: bare-bones description of the multitudes of aquatic fauna seen by the narrator).
Admittedly, the nature of the writing does fit with the narrator's character. He is a scientist, and a naturalist. This doesn't necessarily make for an interesting read, however.
As mentioned above, I was partially drawn to this story by the chapter referenced on the cover. I was disappointed to find that not only did this chapter occur very late in the book, but it was so short, and so conveniently resolved. An attempt at tension seemed to fall flat, and it all felt very rushed. It lacked the gravitas that had occured in earlier, more descriptive scenes (such as the shark hunt and the underwater burial).
This also touches on another weakness in the book; many of the problems faced by the crew of the Nautilus appeared to be resolved by random, quick convenience. An obstacle would be laid before them, and then a single setence would somehow remove it, and all would be well again.
This was particularly evident in the ending, where the narrator is conveniently knocked unconscious; it seems to me that Jules Verne did not know how to end the story. Perhaps he wished for the protagonists to remain aboard forever, but wondered, then, how this narrative was meant to have been freed from the submarine. It was very anticlimactic, unfortunately.
I will, though, end on a positive, and say that I do not regret reading this. There was a sequence of scenes that I particularly enjoyed, and which I felt to be well-written, and tense in a way that was not subverted by convenient resolutions. This sequence is the South Pole sequence; particularly where they have become trapped beneath the iceberg, and air is becoming scarce. Though their survival still seemed assured, the writing succeeded in capturing the desperation of impending suffocation; I wondered if perhaps here there would be a twist, and one of the captive companions would expire, though this was not the case. Regardless, it was one of the only points in the story where I was forced to stop and process the danger experienced by the characters, rather than to simply recover from yet another list of fish whose names I have never before encountered.
I'm glad I have read this. Partly so I can tick it off the list of books I own but have not read, but also because it was an interesting glimpse into the writing of bygone years, when genres were only just forming and narratives of this kind, perhaps, were meant for an entirely different demographic.
And as I have said, at least I now know what a cachalot is.
I was drawn to read this book by its submarine theme. I am fascinated by the ocean, so was intrigued to read a narrative that unfolds almost entirely within this setting. That this book is a classic, oft regarded as a foundation piece in the genre of science-fiction, further attracted me to it; further, as a reader of Lovecraft, a part of me was drawn in merely by the suggestion of a conflict with a cephalopod, as advertised on the cover.
Sadly, despite the aforementioned prospects, I found myself somewhat disappointed with this book. I had expected a swashbuckling tale of trouble and turmoil, with dramatic scenes aplenty, and a pervading sense of tension between the captive trio and Captain Nemo himself.
This was not what I received. Instead, it read predominantly as a travelogue. An element of tension was present, characterised mostly by Ned Land, but for the most part our protagonists seemed perfectly pleased to remain on board and simply enjoy their trip beneath the waves.
Not to say this is a bad thing; it just wasn't what I had been led to expect.
These are not my reasons for a middle rating of 3 stars.
It comes down largely to the writing style. Whilst I recognise it is a product of the time, where certain aspects of narrative convention had yet to be established (as is perhaps also a victim of translation errors), I found many sections to be overly slow and mind-numbing. There were, it seemed, more lists than actual narrative, so that at times I felt as though I had accidentally picked up a scientific journal; indeed, much of the language used prompted me to open Google when I had the energy, or to simply skim-read when I was reading before bed.
I must say this: I love to learn. It is a passion of mine to find out new information. That the writing in Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea exhausted and bored me at times shows that, for me, it was not done interestingly enough to encourage further research.
I did enjoy discovering that sperm whales were once named cachalots, however, and a part of me wishes we could reintroduce this name, if only to silence the sniggers of adolescents.
In truth, though, the reading process puts in my mind online references to recipes; you pick it up wanting to read a certain thing (in the case of a recipe, how to make the food; in the case of this book, certain scenes popularised by Hollywood and the like), but find you have to trawl through paragraphs of barely relevant detail first (recipe: a miniature essay of just how much the meal means to the writer; this book: bare-bones description of the multitudes of aquatic fauna seen by the narrator).
Admittedly, the nature of the writing does fit with the narrator's character. He is a scientist, and a naturalist. This doesn't necessarily make for an interesting read, however.
As mentioned above, I was partially drawn to this story by the chapter referenced on the cover. I was disappointed to find that not only did this chapter occur very late in the book, but it was so short, and so conveniently resolved. An attempt at tension seemed to fall flat, and it all felt very rushed. It lacked the gravitas that had occured in earlier, more descriptive scenes (such as the shark hunt and the underwater burial).
This also touches on another weakness in the book; many of the problems faced by the crew of the Nautilus appeared to be resolved by random, quick convenience. An obstacle would be laid before them, and then a single setence would somehow remove it, and all would be well again.
This was particularly evident in the ending, where the narrator is conveniently knocked unconscious; it seems to me that Jules Verne did not know how to end the story. Perhaps he wished for the protagonists to remain aboard forever, but wondered, then, how this narrative was meant to have been freed from the submarine. It was very anticlimactic, unfortunately.
I will, though, end on a positive, and say that I do not regret reading this. There was a sequence of scenes that I particularly enjoyed, and which I felt to be well-written, and tense in a way that was not subverted by convenient resolutions. This sequence is the South Pole sequence; particularly where they have become trapped beneath the iceberg, and air is becoming scarce. Though their survival still seemed assured, the writing succeeded in capturing the desperation of impending suffocation; I wondered if perhaps here there would be a twist, and one of the captive companions would expire, though this was not the case. Regardless, it was one of the only points in the story where I was forced to stop and process the danger experienced by the characters, rather than to simply recover from yet another list of fish whose names I have never before encountered.
I'm glad I have read this. Partly so I can tick it off the list of books I own but have not read, but also because it was an interesting glimpse into the writing of bygone years, when genres were only just forming and narratives of this kind, perhaps, were meant for an entirely different demographic.
And as I have said, at least I now know what a cachalot is.
adventurous
challenging
informative
slow-paced
I'm back to my list of top science fiction books after a fairly long break. Sometimes the books on my list seem a little dated even though I can understand their pioneer status and contributions to science fiction. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea has every right to be outdated, but I didn't feel as though it was. Sure it was pretty slow paced, but I enjoyed returning to the classics of science fiction. A lot of interesting ideas and I always like a book that doesn't need to go to ridiculous lengths when simpler methods exist.
Exhaustively researched. I got a kick out of the Ned Land character. Otherwise an underwater sausage-fest.
Been a while. You can totally skip some chapters and not miss a beat. But this was Jules' way.
