Review: Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne

Professor Pierre Arronax is on his way home to France after a scientific expedition when he receives an invitation to be part of a mission to hunt down a mysterious beast plaguing ships and sailors the world over.

Having no idea what awaits him, he accepts— and thus starts the nautical adventure of a lifetime, what Arronax himself describes as an “extraordinary, supernatural and highly implausible expedition”. 

Through an unfortunate series of events, the professor, his imperturbable manservant Conseil, and their Canadian harpooner friend Ned Land, become guests on board the Nautilis— an improbable vessel owned and sailed by the enigmatic and mysterious figure known only as Captain Nemo. 

The adventures that follow take them to the inside of a volcano, the South Pole, pearl fishing grounds, an underwater forest, and even Atlantis. Along the way, they fight against icebergs, sharks, and giant squid. 

But will they ever see the shores of their own homeland again, or discover the mystery of their captor– what motivates his thirst for revenge, and what has led him to take refuge from the world in his underwater fortress?

There is no doubt that Jules Verne had a knack for writing excellent and gripping scientific adventures, and this one is no different. This book has stood the test of time since it was first written around 150 years ago. 

For science nerds and ocean lovers, as well as those who enjoy a good old-fashioned sci-fi classic, these pages hold plenty to please. The book is high quality and beautiful, the writing style and the imagery crafting a gorgeous old-fashioned adventure that can truly take you around the world without leaving your room, as every good book should do.

The adventure element is what I found was the book’s strongest point; the characters’ exploits are highly unlikely but made somehow believable with the author’s scientific explanations. 

It is the pure imaginative capability of this book that made it so alluring to me. In addition, the idea of an underwater retreat, with such an impressive library and museum, isolated away from the troubles of the rest of the world, is undoubtedly appealing to some (my introverted self included). 

The humour, too, is subtle— appearing, for instance, in the character and comments of Arronax’s valet— in a way that relieves the other content of the book.

The characters as a whole were engaging and well-crafted; from the mercurial, unreadable Captain Nemo to the phlegmatic Conseil and the hot-tempered Ned, the Professor’s companions are all interesting and indispensable in their own way, and they help to keep the story moving in its unlikely setting. Captain Nemo’s character and mental struggles, specifically, are fascinating and chilling to witness; from his sudden and drastic swings in mood and manner to the unwearying and sinister thirst for revenge and hatred for his fellow man which undercut his withdrawal from the world. 

It is also intriguing to read how the author managed to predict many phenomena that would become commonplace in the future; although it is funny to see how sensational they thought things like electric power were, making the book at times seem quaint and outdated. (Though this made me enjoy it more, to others it might be a turnoff.)

That said, there are some aspects of the book that are hard to read. First of all— as has been readers’ main complaint— are the pages of long-winded and dry scientific cataloguing that intersperse the action.

Verne does have an unfortunate tendency to run on about facts and figures that are somewhat unnecessary to the story. Though there is some justification for this; the book is written as Arronax’s first-hand account of his journey, a scientific record detailing elements of a part of the world where no other scientist has gone before. As such, the pages of fish species and descriptions are perhaps realistic— but they remain highly uninteresting to ninety-nine percent of readers.

These sections are also very dry and matter-of-fact, lacking any imagery or writing devices to make them even slightly interesting to the reader. Personally, I was put off by the pages interspersed with names or numbers and figures, to the point where I would sometimes skim over these sections, rather than confusing and cluttering my vision of the story as somebody who was neither a physics nor taxonomy expert. 

Another element I did not enjoy so much was that some of the conversations seemed stilted and unnatural; perhaps this may be accounted for in both the translation from the original language (French) and the difference in the time period— or perhaps that is just how scientists and smart people talk to one another. But I got the feeling sometimes that the author was trying to educate the reader about the things the characters were talking about, and as such they put in unnecessary details and spoke unnaturally, and the conversation did not flow as it should.

Examples include long monologues about historical events that last several pages, with all dates and figures included, as well as conversations about science with very exact figures, such as depth, pressure, latitude and longitude, recited exactly— which people (even smart sciencey types) very rarely bother to include in an everyday conversation, in my experience. 

I should mention, however, that the first time I read this book was as a child, and the version I read was abridged— and then I don’t remember encountering any of these issues. As such, if you would like to enjoy a version of the story with all of the adventure but none of the long-winded science, perhaps pick up an abridged version.

As far as content warnings, the book was written long enough ago that some of the elements that were considered normal at the time might be considered unacceptable today. 

For instance, their language when talking about the inhabitants of some of the islands they visit; aside from using derogatory language that paints them as savage and uncouth, more animal than human, they also refer to them in some instances as ‘monkeys’. Though these parts only make up one or two instances in the book, they are nevertheless offensive. 

In addition, there is not a single female character in the entire book— which in my version lasted almost 500 pages, so there was certainly room if the author had bothered. 

Another element that may put off some readers are the hunting scenes; descriptions of killing animals are included, some of them gory, even gross and disturbing for sensitive readers. In addition, there is some violence involving humans, including shipwrecks and battles with sea creatures. 

Aside from this, there isn’t really any content that restricts age groups, but it may not be interesting to younger children— or even to most teenagers and young adults. There is some depiction of smoking and such, as usual for the time, but the language is mild throughout the book and there is no explicit content. 

Overall, this book is a good old-fashioned adventure story, and if you have enjoyed others of Verne’s works in the past— or books by the likes of H.G. Wells or Robert Louis Stevenson— you will enjoy this too.

The novel does take a long time to get through and is slow by today’s standards, but it still qualifies as an adventure story, and if you take your time over it you can really enjoy it; that said, it’s not for everybody, and certainly not for those without patience, or who are used to reading action-packed thrillers. (P.S.: for some benefits of why you should read classics, check out our post here.) However, if you can get past the dryer bits, the adventures are top-notch. 

Bottom line: if you are a lover of good old-fashioned science fiction, this is a read you will enjoy, and has proven itself timeless in many aspects.