#A Journey to the Centre of the Earth

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Piece of trivia!

[blueheartbookclub]

Unearthing Wonders: A Journey into the Depths of Jules Verne's "A Journey to the Centre of the Earth"

Jules Verne's "A Journey to the Centre of the Earth" is an extraordinary odyssey that transcends the limits of imagination and plunges readers into the heart of an enigmatic subterranean world. Originally published in 1864, this timeless classic continues to captivate audiences with its gripping narrative, scientific curiosity, and the boundless spirit of adventure that permeates every page.

The story begins in Hamburg, Germany, where Professor Otto Lidenbrock discovers an ancient Icelandic manuscript that hints at a passage to the center of the Earth. Fueled by an insatiable thirst for knowledge and adventure, the professor, along with his reluctant nephew Axel and their guide Hans Belker, embarks on a perilous journey beneath the Earth's surface.

Verne's narrative unfolds as a first-person account penned by Axel, offering readers a front-row seat to the awe-inspiring discoveries and challenges encountered during their subterranean expedition. The trio navigates through labyrinthine caves, encounters prehistoric creatures, and witnesses geological marvels, each episode building a sense of wonder and excitement.

One of the novella's strengths lies in Verne's ability to blend scientific knowledge with the art of storytelling. The meticulous attention to geological and physical details reflects Verne's fascination with science and exploration. The vivid descriptions of the underground landscapes, illuminated by the trio's improvised lighting, create a palpable sense of the unknown and evoke a spirit of scientific discovery.

Verne's characters are both endearing and emblematic of the scientific curiosity prevalent in the 19th century. Professor Lidenbrock embodies the relentless pursuit of knowledge, Axel represents the inquisitive but apprehensive observer, and Hans exemplifies the silent determination of the guide. Together, they form a trio that captures the essence of exploration and scientific inquiry.

The novella's enduring appeal lies in its timeless themes—curiosity, exploration, and the indomitable human spirit. Verne invites readers to reflect on the nature of discovery and the insatiable desire to unravel the mysteries of the world. As the characters delve deeper into the Earth, the narrative becomes a metaphorical journey into the uncharted realms of human potential and the boundless possibilities of scientific exploration.

In addition to its narrative prowess, "A Journey to the Centre of the Earth" serves as a precursor to the science fiction genre, influencing generations of writers and filmmakers. Verne's imaginative storytelling laid the groundwork for tales of subterranean adventures and became a benchmark for science fiction's capacity to transport readers to unexplored realms.

In conclusion, Jules Verne's "A Journey to the Centre of the Earth" stands as a testament to the enduring power of storytelling and the insatiable curiosity that drives human exploration. The novella's blend of scientific precision, vibrant characters, and enthralling adventures continues to inspire readers to embark on their own journeys of discovery, inviting them to unearth the wonders hidden beneath the surface of the known world.

Jules Verne's "A Journey to the Centre of the Earth" is available in Amazon in paperback 14.99$ and hardcover 22.99$ editions.

Number of pages: 310

Language: English

Rating: 9/10                                           

Link of the book!

Review By: King's Cat

[blueheartbooks]

Unearthing Wonders: A Journey into the Depths of Jules Verne's "A Journey to the Centre of the Earth"

Jules Verne's "A Journey to the Centre of the Earth" is an extraordinary odyssey that transcends the limits of imagination and plunges readers into the heart of an enigmatic subterranean world. Originally published in 1864, this timeless classic continues to captivate audiences with its gripping narrative, scientific curiosity, and the boundless spirit of adventure that permeates every page.

The story begins in Hamburg, Germany, where Professor Otto Lidenbrock discovers an ancient Icelandic manuscript that hints at a passage to the center of the Earth. Fueled by an insatiable thirst for knowledge and adventure, the professor, along with his reluctant nephew Axel and their guide Hans Belker, embarks on a perilous journey beneath the Earth's surface.

Verne's narrative unfolds as a first-person account penned by Axel, offering readers a front-row seat to the awe-inspiring discoveries and challenges encountered during their subterranean expedition. The trio navigates through labyrinthine caves, encounters prehistoric creatures, and witnesses geological marvels, each episode building a sense of wonder and excitement.

One of the novella's strengths lies in Verne's ability to blend scientific knowledge with the art of storytelling. The meticulous attention to geological and physical details reflects Verne's fascination with science and exploration. The vivid descriptions of the underground landscapes, illuminated by the trio's improvised lighting, create a palpable sense of the unknown and evoke a spirit of scientific discovery.

Verne's characters are both endearing and emblematic of the scientific curiosity prevalent in the 19th century. Professor Lidenbrock embodies the relentless pursuit of knowledge, Axel represents the inquisitive but apprehensive observer, and Hans exemplifies the silent determination of the guide. Together, they form a trio that captures the essence of exploration and scientific inquiry.

The novella's enduring appeal lies in its timeless themes—curiosity, exploration, and the indomitable human spirit. Verne invites readers to reflect on the nature of discovery and the insatiable desire to unravel the mysteries of the world. As the characters delve deeper into the Earth, the narrative becomes a metaphorical journey into the uncharted realms of human potential and the boundless possibilities of scientific exploration.

In addition to its narrative prowess, "A Journey to the Centre of the Earth" serves as a precursor to the science fiction genre, influencing generations of writers and filmmakers. Verne's imaginative storytelling laid the groundwork for tales of subterranean adventures and became a benchmark for science fiction's capacity to transport readers to unexplored realms.

In conclusion, Jules Verne's "A Journey to the Centre of the Earth" stands as a testament to the enduring power of storytelling and the insatiable curiosity that drives human exploration. The novella's blend of scientific precision, vibrant characters, and enthralling adventures continues to inspire readers to embark on their own journeys of discovery, inviting them to unearth the wonders hidden beneath the surface of the known world.

Jules Verne's "A Journey to the Centre of the Earth" is available in Amazon in paperback 14.99$ and hardcover 22.99$ editions.

Number of pages: 310

Language: English

Rating: 9/10                                           

Link of the book!

Review By: King's Cat

[canon-in-too-deep]

Free Journey to the Centre of the Earth

Free typeset #40: A Journey to the Centre of the Earth by Jules Verne, is now available in my library! Okay, regarding this typeset: I found two versions of this story, two transcripts, with two different titles: 1) A Journey to the Centre of the Earth, and 2) A Journey into the Interior of the Earth. 1 was a more popular rewrite, while 2 was a more accurate translation. I went with number 2, for accuracy's sake, and because I wanted to best present the author's original intent. Buuuuut I used the translation of the first one's title. Because I liked 'Centre' better than 'Interior". (The dictionary was one of my favorite books as a child. And yes I would judgmentally search through it for all the neat pretty words. I am a vain nerd, so help me). Anyway, this book is sized for half letter (letter folio), and I thiiink this rounds out most of the requests I had from my inbox. If you have any suggestions for what stories you'd like to see next, let me know! And as usual, any errors found in any of the pdfs, feel free to point them out so I can get them fixed!

[autisticlancemcclain]

Keith wakes up with terror turning to ice in his veins and his brother’s name clawing its way out of his throat.

He takes a moment, chest heaving, to orient himself. The details of the dream quickly fade, dark caves and towering footsteps, leaving only an impression of fear and the memory of Shiro, falling, crying out for Keith to save him, and Keith being just too late. He peels the sweat-soaked sheets off himself in disgust, tossing them haphazardly on the ground in front of him. Grunting, he forces himself upright, placing his feet on the cold tile floor of his bedroom to force himself fully awake. Sunlight streams through his window, assaulting his bleary eyes, making him grumble as he walks over to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for the day.

Not unusually, his nightmares have woken him hours before he really needs to be awake. He only has one afternoon class, today, and it's frustrating to have one of his few mornings off spoiled so early. As he spits frothy toothpaste into the sink, he tries to rework the whole situation in his mind. Waking up too early sucks, but with the extra time this morning, he’ll have time to wash his sheets. That’s a net neutral, at least.

It doesn’t take him too long to gather up a load of linens and clothes, tossing them into the machine, sipping a coffee as the old thing chugs on. He hangs them to dry once the cycle is over, tossing some overdue marking into his messenger bag and scarfing down a bagel before hopping onto his bike.

His bicycle, that is. He would never take his precious bike to class. The one and only time he had, it had been vandalised by angry students. Never again.

The ride to the school is uneventful, normal, boring. Even the asshole drivers who refuse to give him space on the road, coming within inches of crushing him, are par for the course. He wonders if he looks particularly dead-eyed, or if that’s just how he feels.

“Hey, Pidge,” he says to his lab assistant, nodding at her as he walks into their lab. She shouldn’t even be his lab assistant, really. She’s more brilliant than he’ll ever be, and it’s insulting that she has to answer to him. But she’s only twenty, and whip smart as she is, their field is ripe with rich old white guys who smile condescendingly at her and call her sweetheart. No one will give her a tenured position. So while not ideal, their situation is the best both of them can come up with: Pidge gets total freedom in his lab, any resource that she wants and he can get his hands on, and he’ll publish any finding she discovers with her name as a second on the paper. That way she’ll be credited with dozens of peer-reviewed papers before she even has her doctorate, and once she’s finally got a lab of her own and every intellectual around the globe is interviewing her, she can tell them all where to stuff it and get all the credit she deserves.

“Bad news, Kogane,” Pidge says, glancing up at him with a furrowed brow.

Keith grimaces. If Pidge is looking up from her computer screen, then he’s fucked.

“Is the building on fire?” he says hopefully. That’s a slightly less miserable conclusion than the one he knows is happening.

She huffs sadly, shaking her head. “Nah, check the douchebag waiting in your office.”

Sighing, Keith does. James Griffin, head of the geography department and the resident jackass who’s been trying to shut Keith down for years.

“Keith!” he cries, grinning at him like they’re friends.

Keith doesn’t even pretend to smile at him, staring at him blankly.

“Good to see you, pal,” James continues, either oblivious or uncaring. “Thought I’d drop by and personally deliver the news. I’m getting a new office!”

The absurdity of the sentence makes Keith blink, looking at James in confusion. “Pardon?”

James ignores him, pulling out a tape measure and holding it against the cabinets and counters, barely even making any real effort to measure anything. Keith finally starts to notice the smugness to his department head’s grin, and something like dread builds in his stomach.

“See, progressive volcanology just isn’t what it used to be. Ten years ago it was breakthrough science, today it’s an ancient relic of the past.” He snaps the tape measure closed, turning back to face Keith. He no longer makes any effort to hide his smirk, placing a falsely pitying hand on Keith’s shoulder. Keith shrugs it off immediately. “They’re shuttin’ ya down, bud. I’m taking the space. I’m sure you myriad of adoring students will be devastated, but budget cuts are budget cuts, and this is a decision the department has to make. For the good of the university, you understand.”

Keith knows that pleading is useless. In all likelihood, this decision was made months ago, and he’s only hearing about it now because it’s been finalised. No way would James be so confident otherwise.

But there’s nothing he can do to stop himself from trying.

“You can’t shut us down,” he pleads, throat unfathomably dry. “We’re – we’re on the verge of a breakthrough, James, I can feel it, shutting us down would be spitting in the face of progress –”

“How many of your sensors are even still active?” James interrupts. “One? Two?”

He sounds so smug that Keith can’t bear it. “Three!”

“Right,” James says, snorting. “Three whole sensors.” He turns away, patting one of the overhanging shelves of the wall, crowded from front to back with dozens and dozens of rock samples slowly collecting dust. “It’s not worth the money it takes to keep them going.”

“You can’t do this,” Keith begs, voice quiet and small. He hates himself for his weakness in front of James, of all people in the world, but his hands shake and his blood rushes in his ears and the only thought running through his mind is save the lab save the lab save the lab. “It’s all I have left. Of him.”

To James’ credit, that gives him pause. He’s an asshole, but he’s not a monster.

“It’s been ten years, man,” he says softly. “The lab isn’t going to bring him back.”

Keith says nothing. He stares at him, eyes hard, hatred and pain alike building up in them and spilling over.

Shiro’s sensors. Shiro’s work. Shiro, all over the lab, in every way, the only pieces Keith has of him that are still going, that are not stagnant, and James is taking them away. Whether or not it’s James’ fault directly is irrelevant – Keith hates him for any role he plays.

“I’m sorry, Keith,” James says, and he almost sounds sincere before disappearing out of the lab and down the hall.

Keith sits down heavily in his – in Shiro’s – rickety old office chair as he goes, elbows on the crowded desk, fingers clenched in his hair. Pidge puts a gentle and awkward hand on his shoulder.

It doesn’t matter.

— — —

His classes pass in a blur. None of his students even pretend to pay attention, but that’s not unusual. He can’t remember the last time someone came into his classroom and gave even one eighth of a shit. Hell, the last person in his class to care might have been Pidge.

By the end of the day, he’s exhausted. He dreads the bike ride home, knowing it will take more energy than he has, but he tries to convince himself that the fresh air might make him feel less like the world is collapsing in on itself.

He fails.

By the time he stumbles through the door, late afternoon light spilling over his messy coffee table, he feels like a used battery from 1996. He slides the scattered change he’d found on the road today into one of his near-filled collection bottles and collapses on the couch, face-first, groaning as loud as he can into a scratchy pillow. He blindly flails one arm around until it hits the beeping answering machine, letting it play its onslaught of messages, preparing to delete whatever spam calls have made it through while he was gone.

“Keith, hey. It’s Adam. Just calling to remind you that today’s the day! We just left, we’ll be there around quarter to six? Hopefully. See you soon.”

With a gasp, Keith yanks himself upright with so much force he nearly throws himself off the couch.

Adam.

Adam!

The next message plays automatically. “Hey, got your answering machine again. Getting a little worried. We’re halfway there, and we can’t wait to see you. Right, kiddo?”

A much younger voice mutters something unintelligible, but the tone makes their enthusiasm – or lack thereof – abundantly clear.

Keith sweeps a bunch of junk off his coffee table, frantically searching for his calendar. He finds it under a stack of half-finished books, praying to himself that what he’s hearing is wrong somehow, and today is not the day he thinks it is.

In bold red ben, in the tiny square of the 28th of June, is his niece’s name written in capital letters and underlined no less than five times.

“Hana,” he breathes, and looks in horror at his watch just as the answering machine beeps and plays the newest message.

“Alright, well, we’re ten minutes away, so I hope everything’s okay. Please be ready.”

“Fuck!” Keith shouts, jumping up off the couch and catapulting into action. He can’t believe he forgot! It’s so easy for all the days to blur together, for dates to lose meaning, when everything is so mundane. He’s been thinking that Hana’s visit is ‘months away’ for half a year now, completely forgetting that time is, in fact, linear.

Adam is going to kill him. And worst of all, he is going to be justified.

He starts scooping random shit off end tables and random surfaces, sticking it wherever there’s space. Adam is a neat freak, always has been, and if he looks through that front door and sees the mess he is about to leave his only daughter in for ten whole days he is going to take it out on Keith’s hide. Keith shoves a random stack of cereal bowls into a drawer, stuffs a cabinet full of old newspapers, kicks a pile of discarded sweaters into a corner and throws a blanket over them. His answering machine beeps again, and he whips his head to his clock, watching in horror as the big hand ticks to the 9 – it’s five forty-five on the dot.

“Hope you’re home, Keith, because we’re pulling up to your place.”

A silver car slows to a stop across the street.

“Fuck!”

Keith increases his half-assed cleaning tenfold. He dumps every dish he sees into the sink, hacks up a lung from trying to blow away the accumulated dust, glances in the fridge to see what expired food he needs to toss. Is Adam going to search through his fridge? Probably not.

But there’s a chance.

He sees his brother-in-law approach the front door as he’s holding a stack of greasy car parts and freezes, slowly backing away as the man turns and makes a face at the car. Keith hears the doorbell ring but ignores it, figuring he has about three more rings to panic-clean before Adam gets fed up and picks the lock. He rushes to his bedroom, grabbing the truly gigantic quilt Pidge’s brother had made him, and throws it over his couch, coffee table, and armchair in a half-assed attempt to make the room look less like Keith has not cleaned in several weeks.

It does not work.

The doorbell rings for a third time, followed by rapid knocking.

“Keith? You home?”

Keith takes a deep breath, forcing a smile on his face.

Fine. This is going to be fine.

“Hey, Adam!” he greets, opening the door. Adam glances behind him, taking in the mess, so Keith quickly closes the door as much as he can without squishing himself.

Unfortunately, Adam has always been quick. He raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “You forgot, didn’t you.”

“Forget?” Keith laughs nervously. “Of course I didn’t – I didn’t forget! Been looking forward to this for weeks, counting down the days, just been prepping like you would not believe –”

Adam takes off his glasses, cleaning them slowly while making direct eye contact.

Keith sighs.

“Yeah, I forgot.”

“Come on, Keith,” Adam sighs, sliding his glasses back up his nose. “We planned this months ago. Ten days. That’s all I ask. She’s your niece.”

“Just because I forgot doesn’t mean I wasn’t looking forward to it!” Keith says defensively. “I haven’t seen her since she was what, nine?”

“Seven,” Adam corrects flatly.

Keith winces. “Right. Seven.” He follows his brother-in-law to his car, forcing himself not to drag his feet. He is excited. He is. He loves his niece, and besides, it’s only ten days. What can happen in ten days?

“Hana,” Adam says, knocking on the roof of the car. “Say hi to your uncle.”

“Hi to your uncle,” deadpans a young girl, pulling her beanie further down over her eyes and sinking into her seat. Adam sighs, heading to the trunk to dig out some bags, and Keith has to bite his cheek to keep from laughing. He probably shouldn’t laugh when teenagers are being little shits, but that was kind of funny.

“Hey, kid,” Keith says, in the same semi-awkward tone he used to talk to Pidge in until she started decking him every time he did. He inclines his head at the device in her hands. “Whatcha got there? One of those ePod thingies?”

The look she gives him is so dry and judgemental that Keith almost feels the need to both apologise and pull out a fiver to pay for the stupidity of his sentence, which is honestly an insanely powerful look for a thirteen year old to pull off.

Only Adam’s kid, honestly.

“It’s a PSP,” she says, like that’s the most obvious thing in the world and Keith is a dunce for not knowing. “And ePods aren’t a thing. The word you’re looking for is iPod.”

Lordie, this is going to be a tough ten days. Keith should have researched how to make teenagers like him.

Well. Maybe not. That would probably get him on a list somewhere.

“It’s good to see you, Hana,” Keith says, switching gears. He smiles slightly, and it's genuine, because he really is glad to see her. “You wanna head inside? Door’s open, I’ll meet you in a few.”

“Come see me first, baby,” Adam calls.

Hana huffs and walks over to see her dad. He hands her a duffel bag, which she shrugs over her shoulder, and then cups her face tightly, leaning down to kiss her head.

“Ten days, okay?” he murmurs. “Then I’ll meet you in the Ottawa airport.” He squeezes her in a hug, which she returns, if slightly reluctantly. “This move will be good for us.”

“Right,” Hana says, so bitter that Keith actually physically winces. “I am so pumped to leave behind everything I’ve ever known and go live in a new country. Thank you so much for doing this for me.”

Without so much as a backwards glance at her father, she pulls away and stomps inside to Keith’s place.

“Yikes,” Keith says, grimacing at his brother-in-law. Adam isn’t looking at him, gaze following his daughter with an expression Keith can only describe as pained. He doesn’t say anything for several moments, just staring at the house, eyes far-away and deeply sad. Keith’s chest starts to ache, right under his sternum, because he gets that look, too.

“I don’t know what to do,” Adam says softly. “I’m just — I’m just trying to do the right thing for her.” And it’s been months since they’ve talked anything but surface level pleasantries but they will always be the same, Keith thinks, and he reaches over and squeezes Adam’s hand because he will always be family. Adam squeezes back, smiling tightly.

“I’ll take care of her,” Keith promises. He swallows against the sandpaper roughness of his throat and tries to stand up straight, to make up for his crumpled shirt and messy hair. The attemlt makes Adam roll his eyes, which makes Keith grin. Adam can never stay mad at him for long.

“I know you will, brat.” He cups Keith’s cheeks identically to the way he did Hana’s, tipping over to kiss his forehead. Keith’s eyes close and his hands come up to grab Adam’s wrists. “I trust you. I just wish you would take better care of yourself.”

He pulls away and Keith lets him go, watching the easy way in which he composes himself, clearing his throat and straightening his jacket and pushing up his jacket, putting himself back together in front of Keith’s eyes. The process has fascinated him since he was little; the way Adam can always pull himself back to full height.

“Besides,” he adds, pulling his car keys out of his pocket and heading for the passenger side. “You have my daughter to look after, now. If she comes home to me in ten days complaining about doing the dishes because Uncle Keith just eats pasta out of the pot, I will fly back here just to smack you.”

Keith snorts. “Noted. Drive safe, Adam.”

He waves as he shuts the door and starts the car. Keith watches him go, then turns back towards his house, peering through the door, looking for a glimpse of the kid. He doesn’t see her, but he can hear the muted sounds of a video game from outside.

“I have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” he mutters to himself, and walks inside.

[20kmemesunderthesea]

"What's your neurodivergency?"

"Well, I'm a Jules Verne fan if that answers your question."

[earlypalaeoart]

"These animals attack each other with fury", Ichthyosaurus vs. Plesiosaurus from Voyage au centre de la Terre [Journey to the Center of the Earth] by Jules Verne (1867 edition), art by Édouard Riou

http://jv.gilead.org.il/rpaul/Voyage%20au%20centre%20de%20la%20terre/

[joshfutturman]

✭ jhutch promptober day 9 - journal

[misscromwellsmonocle]

Illustration for Journey to the Centre of the Earth (1887) by Edouard Gelhay

[kr-yoongi]

11 year old me knew this day would come..

[chasingwhitebunnies]

I was unaware the Josh Hutcherson fandom wasn’t still thriving already, but I am very excited by the new surge of content

[haveyoureadthisscifibook]

vote yes if you have finished the entire book.

vote no if you have not finished the entire book.

(faq · submit a book)

[j4jml]

“The very center of your heart is where life begins, the most beautiful place on earth.” - Rumi

Most Beautiful Place 29/03/2024 © All Rights Reserved by Jamil Hussain

[moonygryffin]

Arnie "Eggs" Benedikt was recruited a few weeks before Billy G was overthrown. Over the next couple of years, he quickly rose in position to become the Head of Communications for the Airship during Sir Wilford IV's leadership. Eggs got his nickname from his ability to teleport by smashing eggs. He was one of the most trusted members of the clan but went missing in the incident that killed Sir Wilford. His current living status and (potential) whereabouts are unknown.

Basic facts: He's second-gen Icelandic-American, he's in his early to mid-thirties, his gender is man? and he primarily uses he/him pronouns but wouldn't blink at someone using something else for him. He has a sister, two nieces, and a dog.

Arnie is very friendly and confident. He's always ready to give a helping hand to anyone who asks. While he's pretty talkative, almost always either in a conversation or rambling to himself, nobody knows much about his life before joining the toppats. The only information he's given is a few of his past jobs, many photos of his basset hound-pug mix Puglumbo, and most recently that he has two nieces. He only volunteered the last bit after Reginald and Right Hand Man were forced to adopt little Henry and needed a copious amount of child-rearing advice. His favorite drink is hot chocolate.

[doctorbrown]

DOCTOBER '24 ⸺ 「 2 / 31 * JULES VERNE 」

August, 1932

“Be careful, Emmett!” Sarah shouts after her son's back as he races toward the far edge of their property. “If you start feeling tired, come inside–I’ll have refreshments for you.”

“Okay, mother!” he shouts back, never once looking over his shoulder. 

With a fond sigh and all the confidence in the world her son will, at the very least, limit whatever trouble he gets into to their property line, she disappears back into the house, but not so soon that she almost misses Emmett trip over something unseen and spill the strange assortment of items clutched in his arms all over the yard. 

Not even the blistering summer sun and the light sheen of sweat already beading on Emmett's face could dampen the excitement running through his veins. 

Halfway into their sizeable backyard, Emmett finally stops, drops to his knees, and sets everything down in his arms with the utmost care, protecting each piece of his critically important equipment so as not to damage them before he could even begin.

The most important piece of equipment, a crude digging apparatus fashioned out of a number of different household utensils–his mother had been most displeased at the crime scene that was their dining room table several weeks ago, taken aback by the sight of Emmett surrounded by numerous broken pieces of kitchen equipment and other spare parts–was given a fond look before he set it down in the grass beside his compass.

The small pack he’d slung over one shoulder follows next, and Emmett opens it up, rifling through the contents inside until he pulls out a small lantern–borrowed without his father’s knowledge from the garage–and a large piece of paper, folded neatly into quarters, albeit wrinkled and yellowed slightly and torn at the edges. 

Reverently, as if it contained all of the secrets of the universe within the fibres of its page, Emmett unfolds it, grinning from ear-to-ear. He’d spent weeks looking at maps, going over every inch of their property to recreate their home in exacting detail, puzzling out how to hide the beginnings of his descent from his father so he couldn’t put a stop to his expedition before it even began–it would all be worth it to see the wonders of the past hidden just beneath their feet, slumbering, untouched by time and human progression and even Father couldn’t deny that once he saw it for himself!–and listing out all the necessary preparations he’d need once he made it down there.

Now, everything was in order, and like Professor Lidenbrock and Axel, he, too, would be made privy to the secrets lying in wait deep down in the depths of the planet.

Emmett checks the map, repositions himself and his equipment so he’s in the proper marked off starting point–a circle drawn onto the grass matching that indicated on his map–and grabs his tools, undaunted by the Herculean task that awaits him.

It’ll all be worth it–they’ll see!

He isn’t sure how long he keeps at it–in this heat and by the exhaustion that creeps its way into his muscles, it feels like hours, but the sun is still high and brutal–but his progress toward the untold mysteries lying in wait at the centre of the earth is pathetic at best. Panting from the exertion and wiping sweat from his brow, Emmett flops onto the ground, staring at the barely forearm-deep hole he’s managed to carve out. 

The Professor and his nephew had the benefit of descending down an inactive volcano. Had there been any of those closer to Hill Valley, his own journey may have been that much easier, but convincing his parents–even his mother, who encouraged his passions and proclivities behind his father’s back–would have been near impossible, shut down the moment the words left his lips for being worthless drivel.

Another of his flights of fancy pulling him away from being a good, respectable man in his father’s eyes.

Emmett looks at the digging apparatus earning a much deserved rest on the grass by his legs and purses his lips thoughtfully. Perhaps the kitchen knives weren’t long enough, weren’t suited for the task–if he reworked the design, surely he could come up with something better now that he was in possession of this new insight, gleaned only through trial-and-error. 

Next time, he’d make something better. Next time, he’d—

“Emmett, honey, gather up your things and come inside!”

@bttfdoctober

[pmamtraveller]

THE AWAKENING OF THE FOREST (1939) by PAUL DELVAUX

In THE AWAKENING OF THE FOREST, DELVAUX draws inspiration from his childhood fascination with the works of JULES VERNE, in which the protagonist encounters an uncharted primordial forest in a scene reminiscent of JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF THE EARTH.

The full silvery moonlight illuminates the forest, where primal nude figures cavort, lie down, climb the trees, and play musical instruments. They appear to be in harmony with the trees, embracing them with the leaves in their hair.

The clothed characters from the novel approach the nude revelers. In the left foreground, the professor from the novel, dressed in evening attire and wearing a red tie, is examining a stone.

The male figure behind the professor is DELVAUX'S self-portrait as the protagonist, AXEL, from the book. At the far right of the composition, a woman in a red dress walks alone with her back to the viewer.

The figures do not interact with each other; the scientists, the forest inhabitants, and the mysterious clothed woman are all oblivious of each other.

This image is characterized by a combination of opposing elements, an ethereal light, a distinct perspective, a focus on the nudes, and a still eerie atmosphere, all of which contribute to its bizarre and disturbing nature