Thursday, July 21, 2016

Why the classics are classics


Journey to the Center of the Earth
by Jules Verne

Pronounce it "Jule" not "Jules". And get Mount Vesuvius out of your mental image--for some reason it was stuck in my head--every time I started wondering where they'd eventually turn up, I kept thinking Mount Vesuvius. I was so wrong.

I listened to the audiobook and I must say, it wasn't what I remembered from my childhood. I guess I must have seen a movie or a cartoon version of it at some point, but based on my vague memories it had gotten the true Hollywood treatment. All of the cool stuff in the book was brand new to me; the stuff I vaguely remembered was absent or only mentioned in passing.

I was a tad annoyed at having to continually wonder which bits of science were real, which were common beliefs back then but total nonsense now, and which were fanciful flights of a brilliant man's imagination.  (I didn't listen to it with an encyclopedia at hand.) But that's okay. There was enough that was real enough to keep me a rapt listener.

And one more thing: books written in the nineteenth century and earlier were almost invariably written to be read aloud. It gives them a certain presence that they can't always convey when you're skimming along the pages with eyes moving faster than a tongue can twist. I found this to be true for certain with Middlemarch and again with this. What other classics are there which I couldn't stand to read on paper but heartily enjoy in
the spoken voice?

I'm going looking for them right now!

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