I am trying not to be biased, but I have to be honest: Jules Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea is one of my favorite books. But here is a book that is tragically misunderstood. For some reason, at least in America, we continuously relegate Verne’s wonderful piece of literature to the children’s section. I mean, my local library does not even have a copy in the adult fiction section. Garfield the cat, for heaven’s sake, is in the adult section! But Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea? Not so much. This oversight is not merely lamentable, but it is an egregious injustice to a complex and exciting book. No, it’s not that I think children will fail to understand Verne’s book, it’s that I think we are preventing many adults from taking it seriously. When my high school English teacher saw me reading it, he said, “Oh, are we reading children’s books now?” No, no good sir, I am not. I am reading the book that showed me science is interesting, that the ocean is awesome, that the best antagonists are not pure evil and that man’s creativity is vast. If we reserve these insights only for children, what a wretched wasteland we have in grown-up literature.

But here I shall cease to rant and will continue with the review.

Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea begins with a series of mysterious attacks on ships across the world and this leads to a massive hunt for the sea monster that is responsible. As an expert in marine biology, Professor Aronnax and his assistant Conseil are invited aboard one vessel as they go hunting the elusive sea beast. Of course the beast attacks their ship, and Aronnax, Conseil and a master harpooner, Ned Land, are tossed overboard. They find themselves saved by the object of their hunt, which is not a sea monster, but an incredible submarine. Thus begins a marvelous adventure as the three men discover that while they have been rescued, the mysterious Captain Nemo can never allow them back to the world of men to reveal their discovery; so they must roam beneath the waves in the company of a man both genius and vengeful.

And this is how the book taught me science is interesting: infused throughout the story are stunning scientific descriptions of the undersea world -- its flora, fauna and the curiosities of how the ocean operates. At times, I had to stop, reread and say, “Huh?” But it was the good sort of “huh”, not the what-in-the-world-is-going-on-please-make-this-madness-stop sort of “huh”. It was the “huh” that accompanies wonderment. And that is one of the things this book does best: it uses science to ground the fantastic so that it might become believable. I can agree with the pronouncement that Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea is the book that made Verne the father of science fiction.

Amidst all the scientific speculations, Verne does not become bogged down and forget the story. All through the journey, the characters he has introduced fill out into dynamic people who have drives and hopes, who show courage and humanity. One man dominates the pages of this book, however, and in many ways it seems that Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea is not so much about Aronnax who narrates the story, as much as Captain Nemo. In Nemo, Verne provides a wonderful study of the complexities of humanity. Nemo is a man of his word, a gentleman, a genius, a polyglot; yet, there is a danger in him, a cold cruelty that allows him to sink a ship and then submerge beneath the waves to callously watch the boat and all hands sink to their dooms. But this is the same man reduced to tears by the death of a crewman, the same man who rescues an unknown pearl diver at risk to his own person. He is an admirer of Abraham Lincoln and a self-proclaimed defender of the oppressed. He is the tyrant fighting tyranny, a character who evokes both sympathy and shock. Through his genius, Nemo stands as a testimony to the author’s genius.

That is why Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea deserves a place in literature not only for children, but for adults. It is not merely an adventure and it is not merely scientific exposition, it is a joyous fusing of the two with interesting side roads into philosophy and psychology. So, no, Mr. Twelfth Grade English Teacher, I am not reading a children’s book, I am reading a work by a master: by the father of science fiction.

   -- Katie Hager