Just Finished Reading: Five Weeks in a Balloon by Jules Verne (FP: 1863)

In Early 1862 intrepid explorer Dr Samuel Fergusson, his friend and determined sportsman Dick Kennedy and hid man-servant Joe set out from the island of Zanzibar determined to cross the whole of Africa from east to west by means of a hydrogen filled balloon. Where they will finally make landfall is entirely in the hands of Providence and the skilful handling of the balloon by Dr Fergusson himself. Along the way they must battle against a harsh hot environment, hostile natives and bands of slavers, aggressive animals and the ever present danger of being suspended under a balloon filled with explosive gas! It is only through the dedicated application of science, common sense and the very latest in weapons technology that they manage to make their way across the Dark Continent. But real hazards exist and nothing worthwhile is gained without a modicum of danger. Sacrifices are made in order for the expedition to move forward, blood is split, sweat is required and in the final stages of the flight it is down to every true Englishman to do his duty even at the cost of his very life. Only in this way can the occupants of the balloon maintain their superiority over the ignorant and superstitious natives who dog their every step.

I believe this to be Verne’s first published work presumably serialised in a magazine or newspaper as these things were back then. There’s certainly enough cliff-hangers to keep people buying the next instalment despite its short length – only 127 pages in my edition (‘edited for schools’ apparently although what was edited out escapes me). It certainly followed the type of late 19^th century novel I’m familiar with from Wells and Conan Doyle amongst others (including Verne himself). What did surprise me more than a little, though it shouldn’t have done really, was the sheer amount of casual racism peppered throughout the pages. Practically on every page is a casual comment on the inferiority of the African inhabitants – including Arab traders – as compared to the obvious superiority of Europeans (particularly the British and the French). Yet this ‘superiority seemed to be evidenced by shooting everything that moved – especially if the creature was unknown to them – in order to cook it over a handy fire to see what it tasted like. Likewise contact with any native contingent seemed to be made more often by bullet than any attempt at an actual dialogue. I winced more than once at the attitudes of the balloons occupants. It’s possible that this was intended as satire but I have a feeling that the book was intended to be much more of an adventure story than something to elicit chuckles from under the bed sheets of young boys late at night. Obviously it is difficult to judge novels of an earlier age by modern standards – indeed reading such books allows us to see clearly how attitudes to many things have changed in the intervening years – but I couldn’t help but find this short novel to be more than a little distasteful. One for a Verne completest only I think.