October 31, 2025 • 14 mins
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Journey to the Center of the Earth by Schilvern, Chapter one,
My uncle makes a great discovery. Looking back to all
that has occurred to me since that eventful day, I
am scarcely able to believe in the reality of my adventures.
(00:21):
They were truly so wonderful that even now I am
bewildered when I think of them. My uncle was a German,
having married my mother's sister, an englishwoman. Being very much
attached to his fatherless nephew, he invited me to study
under him in his home in the fatherland. This home
(00:41):
was in a large town, and my uncle a professor
of philosophy, chemistry, geology, mineralogy, and many other ologies. One day,
after passing some hours in the laboratory, my uncle, being
absent at the time, I suddenly felt the necessity of
renovating the tissus. That is, I was hungry and was
(01:03):
about to rouse up our old French cook, when my uncle,
Professor von Hartwick, suddenly opened the street door and came
rushing upstairs. Now, Professor Hartwig, my worthy uncle, is by
no means a bad sort of man. He is, however,
coleric and original. To bear with him means to obey
(01:27):
and scarcely had his heavy feet resounded within our joint domisil.
Then he shouted for me to attend upon him. Hurry, hurry, hurry.
I hastened to obey, But before I could reach his room,
jumping three steps at a time, he was stamping his
right foot upon the landing. Hurry, he cried in a
(01:50):
frantic tone. Are you coming up now? To tell the truth?
At that moment, I was far more interested in the
question as to what was to constitute our dinner than
in any problem of science. To me, soup was more
interesting than soda, an omelet more tempting than arithmetic, and
(02:12):
an artichoke of ten times more value than any amount
of asbestos. But my uncle was not a man to
be kept waiting so adjourning. Therefore all minor questions I
presented myself before him. He was a very learned man. Now,
most persons in this category supply themselves with information, as
(02:36):
peders do with goods for the benefit of others, and
lay up stores in order to diffuse them abroad for
the benefit of society in general. Not so my excellent uncle,
Professor Hartwig. He studied, he consumed the midnight oil. He
poured over heavy tomes and digested huge quartos and folios,
(02:58):
in order to keep the knowledge acquired to himself. There
was a reason, and it may be regarded as a
good one, why my uncle objected to display his learning
more than was absolutely necessary. He stammered, and, when intent
upon explaining the phenomena of the heavens, was apt to
find himself at fault and allude in such a vague
(03:22):
way to sun, moon and stars, that few were able
to comprehend his meaning to tell the honest truth. When
the right word would not come, it was generally replaced
by a very powerful adjective. In connection with the sciences,
there are many almost unpronounceable names, names very much resembling
(03:45):
those of Welsh villages, and my uncle, being very fond
of using them, his habit of stammering was not thereby improved.
In fact, there were periods in his discourse when he
would finally give up and swallow his discomfiture in a
glass of water. As I said, my uncle, Professor Hartwig
(04:08):
was a very learned man, and I now add a
most kind relative. I was bound to him by the
double ties of affection and interest. I took deep interest
in all his doings, and hoped some day to be
almost as learned myself. It was a rare thing for
me to be absent from his lectures. Like him, I
(04:32):
preferred mineralogy to all the other sciences. My anxiety was
to gain real knowledge of the earth. Geology and mineralogy
were to us the sole objects of life, And in
connection with these studies, many a fair specimen of stone, chalk,
(04:52):
or metal did we break with our hammers, steel rods, loadstones,
glass pipes, and bottles of various acids were oftener before
us than our meals. My uncle Hartwig was once known
to classify six hundred different geological specimens by their weight, hardness, fusibility, sound, taste,
(05:15):
and smell. He corresponded with all the great learned and
scientific men of the age. I was therefore in constant
communication with, at all events the letters of Sir Humphry Davy,
Captain Franklin, and other great men. But before I state
the subject on which my uncle wished to confer with me,
(05:38):
I must say a word about his personal appearance, alas
my readers will see a very different portrait of him
at the future time, after he has gone through the
fearful adventures yet to be related. My uncle was fifty
years old, tall, thin and wiry, large spectacles hid to
(06:00):
a certain extent, is passed round and goggle eyes, while
his nose was irreverently compared to a thin pile. So
much indeed did it resemble that useful article that a
compass was said in his presence to have made considerable
n nasal deviation the truth being told. However, the only
(06:24):
article really attracted to my uncle's nose was tobacco. Another
peculiarity of his was that he always stepped the yard
at a time, clenched his fists as if he were
going to hit you, and was, when in one of
his peculiar humors, very far from a pleasant companion. It
(06:47):
is further necessary to observe that he lived in a
very nice house in that very nice street, the kernig Strasse,
at Hamburg. Though lying in the center of a town,
it was perfectly rural in its aspect, half wood, half
bricks with old fashioned gables, one of the few old
(07:07):
houses spared by the great Fire of eighteen forty two.
When I say a nice house, I mean a handsome house,
old tottering and not exactly comfortable to English notions. A
house a little of the perpendicular and inclined to fall
into the neighboring canal, exactly the house for a wandering
(07:29):
artist to depict, all the more that you could scarcely
see it for ivy and a magnificent old tree which
grew over the door. My uncle was rich. His house
was his own property, while he had a considerable private income.
To my notion, the best part of his possessions was
(07:51):
his god daughter Gretchen, and the old cook, the young lady.
The professor and I were the soul inhabitants. I love mineralogy,
I loved geology. To me, there was nothing like pebbles.
And if my uncle had been in a little less
of a fury, we should have been the happiest of families.
(08:14):
To prove the Excellent Hartwick's impatience, I solemnly declare that
when the flowers in the drawing room pots began to grow,
he rose every morning at four o'clock to make them
grow quicker by pulling the leaves. Having described my uncle,
I will now give an account of our interview. He
(08:37):
received me in his study, a perfect museum containing every
natural curiosity that can well be imagined. Minerals, however, predominating
every one was familiar to me, having been cataloged by
my own hand. My uncle, apparently oblivious of the fact
that he had summoned me to his presence, was as
(09:00):
in a book. He was particularly fond of early editions,
tall copies, and unique works. Wonderful, he cried, tapping his forehead. Wonderful, wonderful.
It was one of those yellow lead volumes now rarely
found on stalls, and to me it appeared to possess
(09:23):
but little value. My uncle, however, was in raptures. He
admired its finding, the clearness of its characters, the ease
with which it opened in his hand, and repeated aloud
half a dozen times that it was very, very old.
To my fancy, he was making a great fuss about nothing,
(09:46):
but it was not my province to say so. On
the contrary, I professed considerable interest in the subject and
asked him what it was about. It is the high
scringlows no retarless on, he said the celebrated Icelandic author
of the twelfth century. It is a true and correct
(10:07):
account of the Norwegian princess who reigned in Iceland. My
next question related to the language in which it was written.
I hoped, at all events it was translated into German.
My uncle was indignant at the very thought, and declared
he wouldn't give a penny for a translation. His delight
(10:29):
was to have found the original work in the Icelandic tongue,
which he declared to be one of the most magnificent
and yet simple idioms in the world, while at the
same time its grammatical combinations were the most varied known
to students. About a Esars German was my insidious remark.
(10:52):
My uncle shrugged his shoulders. The letters, at all events,
I said, are rather difficult of comprehension. It is a
Runic manuscript, the language of the original population of Iceland,
invented by Odin himself, cried my uncle, angry at my ignorance.
(11:13):
I was about to venture upon some misplaced yoke on
the subject, when a small scrap of parchment fell out
of the leaves, like a hungry man snatching at a
morsel of bread. The professor seized it. It was about
five inches by three and was scrawled over in the
most extraordinary fashion. The lines shown here are an exact facsimila.
(11:37):
What was written on the venerable piece of parchment, and
have wonderful importance, as they induced my uncle to undertake
the most wonderful series of adventures which ever fell to
the lot of human beings. My uncle looked keenly at
the document for some moments, and then declared that it
(11:57):
was Runic. The letters were similar to those in the book,
But then what did they mean? This was exactly what
I wanted to know now, as I had a strong
conviction that the Runic alphabet and dialect were simply an
invention to mystify poor human nature. I was delighted to
(12:18):
find that my uncle knew as much about the matter
as I did, which was nothing at all. Events, the
tremulous motion of his fingers made me think so, and
yet he muttered to himself, it is old Icelandic. I
am sure of it. And my uncle ought to have known,
(12:42):
for he was a perfect polyglotictionary in himself. He did
not pretend, like a certain learned pundit to speak the
two thousand languages and four thousand idioms made use of
in different parts of the globe. But he did know
all the more important once. It is a matter of
(13:03):
great doubt to me now to what violent measures my
uncle's impetuosity might have led him, had not The clock
struck two, and our old French cook called out to
let us know that dinner was on the table. Mother
the dinner, cried my uncle, but as I was hungry,
(13:23):
I sallied forth to the dining room, where I took
up my usual quarters. Out of politeness, I waited three minutes,
but no sign of my uncle. The professor. I was surprised.
He was not usually so blind to the pleasure of
a good dinner. It was the acme of German luxury,
(13:44):
parsley soup, a ham omelet with sorrel trimmings, an oyster
of veal stewed with prunes, delicious fruit, and sparkling moselle.
For the sake of pouring over this musty old piece
of parchment, my uncle and forebore to share our meal.
To satisfy my conscience, I ate for both. The old
(14:08):
cook and housekeeper was nearly out of her mind after
taking so much trouble to find her master not appear
at dinner was to her a sad disappointment, which, as
she occasionally watched the havoc I was making on the
vines became also alarm if my uncle were to come
(14:31):
to table after all. Suddenly, just as I had consumed
the last apple and drank the last glass of wine,
a terrible voice was heard at no great distance. It
was my uncle, roaring for me to come to him.
I made very nearly one leap of it, so loud,
(14:51):
so fierce was his tone. End of Chapter one
Journey to the Center of the Earth by Schilvern, Chapter one,
My uncle makes a great discovery. Looking back to all
that has occurred to me since that eventful day, I
am scarcely able to believe in the reality of my adventures.
(00:21):
They were truly so wonderful that even now I am
bewildered when I think of them. My uncle was a German,
having married my mother's sister, an englishwoman. Being very much
attached to his fatherless nephew, he invited me to study
under him in his home in the fatherland. This home
(00:41):
was in a large town, and my uncle a professor
of philosophy, chemistry, geology, mineralogy, and many other ologies. One day,
after passing some hours in the laboratory, my uncle, being
absent at the time, I suddenly felt the necessity of
renovating the tissus. That is, I was hungry and was
(01:03):
about to rouse up our old French cook, when my uncle,
Professor von Hartwick, suddenly opened the street door and came
rushing upstairs. Now, Professor Hartwig, my worthy uncle, is by
no means a bad sort of man. He is, however,
coleric and original. To bear with him means to obey
(01:27):
and scarcely had his heavy feet resounded within our joint domisil.
Then he shouted for me to attend upon him. Hurry, hurry, hurry.
I hastened to obey, But before I could reach his room,
jumping three steps at a time, he was stamping his
right foot upon the landing. Hurry, he cried in a
(01:50):
frantic tone. Are you coming up now? To tell the truth?
At that moment, I was far more interested in the
question as to what was to constitute our dinner than
in any problem of science. To me, soup was more
interesting than soda, an omelet more tempting than arithmetic, and
(02:12):
an artichoke of ten times more value than any amount
of asbestos. But my uncle was not a man to
be kept waiting so adjourning. Therefore all minor questions I
presented myself before him. He was a very learned man. Now,
most persons in this category supply themselves with information, as
(02:36):
peders do with goods for the benefit of others, and
lay up stores in order to diffuse them abroad for
the benefit of society in general. Not so my excellent uncle,
Professor Hartwig. He studied, he consumed the midnight oil. He
poured over heavy tomes and digested huge quartos and folios,
(02:58):
in order to keep the knowledge acquired to himself. There
was a reason, and it may be regarded as a
good one, why my uncle objected to display his learning
more than was absolutely necessary. He stammered, and, when intent
upon explaining the phenomena of the heavens, was apt to
find himself at fault and allude in such a vague
(03:22):
way to sun, moon and stars, that few were able
to comprehend his meaning to tell the honest truth. When
the right word would not come, it was generally replaced
by a very powerful adjective. In connection with the sciences,
there are many almost unpronounceable names, names very much resembling
(03:45):
those of Welsh villages, and my uncle, being very fond
of using them, his habit of stammering was not thereby improved.
In fact, there were periods in his discourse when he
would finally give up and swallow his discomfiture in a
glass of water. As I said, my uncle, Professor Hartwig
(04:08):
was a very learned man, and I now add a
most kind relative. I was bound to him by the
double ties of affection and interest. I took deep interest
in all his doings, and hoped some day to be
almost as learned myself. It was a rare thing for
me to be absent from his lectures. Like him, I
(04:32):
preferred mineralogy to all the other sciences. My anxiety was
to gain real knowledge of the earth. Geology and mineralogy
were to us the sole objects of life, And in
connection with these studies, many a fair specimen of stone, chalk,
(04:52):
or metal did we break with our hammers, steel rods, loadstones,
glass pipes, and bottles of various acids were oftener before
us than our meals. My uncle Hartwig was once known
to classify six hundred different geological specimens by their weight, hardness, fusibility, sound, taste,
(05:15):
and smell. He corresponded with all the great learned and
scientific men of the age. I was therefore in constant
communication with, at all events the letters of Sir Humphry Davy,
Captain Franklin, and other great men. But before I state
the subject on which my uncle wished to confer with me,
(05:38):
I must say a word about his personal appearance, alas
my readers will see a very different portrait of him
at the future time, after he has gone through the
fearful adventures yet to be related. My uncle was fifty
years old, tall, thin and wiry, large spectacles hid to
(06:00):
a certain extent, is passed round and goggle eyes, while
his nose was irreverently compared to a thin pile. So
much indeed did it resemble that useful article that a
compass was said in his presence to have made considerable
n nasal deviation the truth being told. However, the only
(06:24):
article really attracted to my uncle's nose was tobacco. Another
peculiarity of his was that he always stepped the yard
at a time, clenched his fists as if he were
going to hit you, and was, when in one of
his peculiar humors, very far from a pleasant companion. It
(06:47):
is further necessary to observe that he lived in a
very nice house in that very nice street, the kernig Strasse,
at Hamburg. Though lying in the center of a town,
it was perfectly rural in its aspect, half wood, half
bricks with old fashioned gables, one of the few old
(07:07):
houses spared by the great Fire of eighteen forty two.
When I say a nice house, I mean a handsome house,
old tottering and not exactly comfortable to English notions. A
house a little of the perpendicular and inclined to fall
into the neighboring canal, exactly the house for a wandering
(07:29):
artist to depict, all the more that you could scarcely
see it for ivy and a magnificent old tree which
grew over the door. My uncle was rich. His house
was his own property, while he had a considerable private income.
To my notion, the best part of his possessions was
(07:51):
his god daughter Gretchen, and the old cook, the young lady.
The professor and I were the soul inhabitants. I love mineralogy,
I loved geology. To me, there was nothing like pebbles.
And if my uncle had been in a little less
of a fury, we should have been the happiest of families.
(08:14):
To prove the Excellent Hartwick's impatience, I solemnly declare that
when the flowers in the drawing room pots began to grow,
he rose every morning at four o'clock to make them
grow quicker by pulling the leaves. Having described my uncle,
I will now give an account of our interview. He
(08:37):
received me in his study, a perfect museum containing every
natural curiosity that can well be imagined. Minerals, however, predominating
every one was familiar to me, having been cataloged by
my own hand. My uncle, apparently oblivious of the fact
that he had summoned me to his presence, was as
(09:00):
in a book. He was particularly fond of early editions,
tall copies, and unique works. Wonderful, he cried, tapping his forehead. Wonderful, wonderful.
It was one of those yellow lead volumes now rarely
found on stalls, and to me it appeared to possess
(09:23):
but little value. My uncle, however, was in raptures. He
admired its finding, the clearness of its characters, the ease
with which it opened in his hand, and repeated aloud
half a dozen times that it was very, very old.
To my fancy, he was making a great fuss about nothing,
(09:46):
but it was not my province to say so. On
the contrary, I professed considerable interest in the subject and
asked him what it was about. It is the high
scringlows no retarless on, he said the celebrated Icelandic author
of the twelfth century. It is a true and correct
(10:07):
account of the Norwegian princess who reigned in Iceland. My
next question related to the language in which it was written.
I hoped, at all events it was translated into German.
My uncle was indignant at the very thought, and declared
he wouldn't give a penny for a translation. His delight
(10:29):
was to have found the original work in the Icelandic tongue,
which he declared to be one of the most magnificent
and yet simple idioms in the world, while at the
same time its grammatical combinations were the most varied known
to students. About a Esars German was my insidious remark.
(10:52):
My uncle shrugged his shoulders. The letters, at all events,
I said, are rather difficult of comprehension. It is a
Runic manuscript, the language of the original population of Iceland,
invented by Odin himself, cried my uncle, angry at my ignorance.
(11:13):
I was about to venture upon some misplaced yoke on
the subject, when a small scrap of parchment fell out
of the leaves, like a hungry man snatching at a
morsel of bread. The professor seized it. It was about
five inches by three and was scrawled over in the
most extraordinary fashion. The lines shown here are an exact facsimila.
(11:37):
What was written on the venerable piece of parchment, and
have wonderful importance, as they induced my uncle to undertake
the most wonderful series of adventures which ever fell to
the lot of human beings. My uncle looked keenly at
the document for some moments, and then declared that it
(11:57):
was Runic. The letters were similar to those in the book,
But then what did they mean? This was exactly what
I wanted to know now, as I had a strong
conviction that the Runic alphabet and dialect were simply an
invention to mystify poor human nature. I was delighted to
(12:18):
find that my uncle knew as much about the matter
as I did, which was nothing at all. Events, the
tremulous motion of his fingers made me think so, and
yet he muttered to himself, it is old Icelandic. I
am sure of it. And my uncle ought to have known,
(12:42):
for he was a perfect polyglotictionary in himself. He did
not pretend, like a certain learned pundit to speak the
two thousand languages and four thousand idioms made use of
in different parts of the globe. But he did know
all the more important once. It is a matter of
(13:03):
great doubt to me now to what violent measures my
uncle's impetuosity might have led him, had not The clock
struck two, and our old French cook called out to
let us know that dinner was on the table. Mother
the dinner, cried my uncle, but as I was hungry,
(13:23):
I sallied forth to the dining room, where I took
up my usual quarters. Out of politeness, I waited three minutes,
but no sign of my uncle. The professor. I was surprised.
He was not usually so blind to the pleasure of
a good dinner. It was the acme of German luxury,
(13:44):
parsley soup, a ham omelet with sorrel trimmings, an oyster
of veal stewed with prunes, delicious fruit, and sparkling moselle.
For the sake of pouring over this musty old piece
of parchment, my uncle and forebore to share our meal.
To satisfy my conscience, I ate for both. The old
(14:08):
cook and housekeeper was nearly out of her mind after
taking so much trouble to find her master not appear
at dinner was to her a sad disappointment, which, as
she occasionally watched the havoc I was making on the
vines became also alarm if my uncle were to come
(14:31):
to table after all. Suddenly, just as I had consumed
the last apple and drank the last glass of wine,
a terrible voice was heard at no great distance. It
was my uncle, roaring for me to come to him.
I made very nearly one leap of it, so loud,
(14:51):
so fierce was his tone. End of Chapter one
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