Professor Otto Lidenbrock Character Analysis

Not that he troubled himself much about the assiduity of his pupils, or the amount of attention they paid to his lessons, or their corresponding success. These points gave him no concern. He taught subjectively, to use a German philosophical expression, for himself, and not for others. He was a selfish savant––a well of science, and nothing could be drawn up from it without the grinding noise of the pulleys: in a word, he was a miser.

“[…] other distinguished geologists agree with [Poisson] in thinking that the interior of the globe is neither formed of gas nor water, nor of the heaviest minerals known, for in that case the earth’s gravity would be twice less.”

“Oh, figures can be made to prove anything!”

“And facts, too, my boy. Is it not unquestionable that the number of volcanoes has considerably decreased since the early days of the world, and if great central heat existed, would it be likely to get less powerful?”

“If you enter the field of suppositions, uncle, I have nothing more to say on the subject.”

“This is what I settle,” replied Professor Lidenbrock, mounting the high horse; “that neither you, nor anyone else, knows anything certain that is going on in the center of the earth, seeing that we scarcely know the 12,000th part of its radius, that science is eminently perfectible, and that each theory has constantly to give way to a fresh one.”

Had I been listening to the mad speculations of a fool, or the scientific deductions of a great genius? And in it all, where did the truth end and error begin?

A thousand contradictory hypotheses floated before my mind, and there was nothing I could lay hold of.

“Axel, it is a grant thing to devote one’s self to science. What glory awaits Mr. Lidenbrock, and will be reflected on his companions! When you come back, Axel, you will be a man, an equal, free to speak, free to act, free too––”

The girl blushed, and did not finish the sentence.

“When science has spoken, it is for us to hold our peace.”

I went back to the parsonage, very crestfallen. My uncle had vanquished me by scientific arguments.

As a true nephew of Professor Lidenbrock, and notwithstanding my mental preoccupation, I was interested in observing the mineralogical curiosities displayed in this vast cabinet of natural history, and, at the same time, was going over in my mind the whole geological history of Iceland.

I was on the summit of one of the twin peaks of Snäffel […]. I commanded a view of almost the whole island. […] I could have said that one of Helbesmer’s relievo maps lay before me. […] precipices seemed mere walls, lakes changed into ponds, and rivers were little streams. On my right there were glaciers without number, and innumerable peaks […].

[…] I forgot who I was, and where I was […]. I gave myself to the luxury of the heights […].

What the boring machine, an insensible inert instrument, could not bring to the surface, we could examine with our eyes, and touch with our hands. […] I could not but think what riches are hid in the depths of the earth, which covetous humanity will never appropriate. These treasures have been buried so deep by the convulsions of primeval times, that neither mattock nor pickaxe will ever disinter them.

We were quite fit for this existence of troglodytes. I scarcely thought of sun, or stars, or moon, or trees, or houses, or towns, or any of those terrestrial superfluities which are necessary to sublunary beings. We were fossils now, and thought such useless marvels absurd.

“[…] if there is any law of increase in temperature, the heat here ought to be 1,500.”

“Ought to be, my boy.”

“And all this granite would be in a state of fusion, as it could not possibly remain in a solid state.”

“You see, however, that it is nothing of the sort, and that facts, as usual, give the lie to theories.”

How long this state of insensibility had lasted I cannot say, I had no longer any means of reckoning time. Never was solitude like mine, never was abandonment so absolute.

“I will explain nothing, for it is inexplicable; but you will see for yourself, and you will understand that geological knowledge is far from final.”

“Science, my boy, is made up of mistakes; but of mistakes which lead to the discovery of truth.”

The whole fossil world lives again in my imagination. I go back in fancy to the biblical epoch of creation, long before the advent of man, when the imperfect earth was not fitted to sustain him. Then still further back, when no life existed. […] All life was concentrated in me, my heart alone beat in a depopulated world.

“At any rate, we have no reason to regret having come so far. The scene is grand….”

“The question is not of scenery. I have an object in view, and I wish to attain it. Don’t talk to me of scenery.”

What another had done I would dare, and nothing to me seemed impossible.

The soul of the professor had passed into me. The spirit of a discoverer pervaded me. I forgot the past, I disdained the future! Nothing existed for me on the face of our planet, in whose bosom I was plunged, neither town nor country, neither Hamburg nor Königstrasse, nor my poor Gräuben, who must think me lost for ever in the bowels of the earth!

From that moment our reason, our judgment, our ingenuity went for nothing, we were to be the playthings of the elements.

“While the heart beats and the flesh palpitates, a creature endowed with will should never give place to despair.”

From that day my uncle was the happiest of sages, and I the happiest of men; for my lovely Virlandaise […] was installed in the Königstrasse house in double quality of niece and wife. I need not add that her uncle was the illustrious professor Otto Lidenbrock, corresponding member of all the scientific societies, geographical, and mineralogical […].

Not that he troubled himself much about the assiduity of his pupils, or the amount of attention they paid to his lessons, or their corresponding success. These points gave him no concern. He taught subjectively, to use a German philosophical expression, for himself, and not for others. He was a selfish savant––a well of science, and nothing could be drawn up from it without the grinding noise of the pulleys: in a word, he was a miser.

“[…] other distinguished geologists agree with [Poisson] in thinking that the interior of the globe is neither formed of gas nor water, nor of the heaviest minerals known, for in that case the earth’s gravity would be twice less.”

“Oh, figures can be made to prove anything!”

“And facts, too, my boy. Is it not unquestionable that the number of volcanoes has considerably decreased since the early days of the world, and if great central heat existed, would it be likely to get less powerful?”

“If you enter the field of suppositions, uncle, I have nothing more to say on the subject.”

“This is what I settle,” replied Professor Lidenbrock, mounting the high horse; “that neither you, nor anyone else, knows anything certain that is going on in the center of the earth, seeing that we scarcely know the 12,000th part of its radius, that science is eminently perfectible, and that each theory has constantly to give way to a fresh one.”

Had I been listening to the mad speculations of a fool, or the scientific deductions of a great genius? And in it all, where did the truth end and error begin?

A thousand contradictory hypotheses floated before my mind, and there was nothing I could lay hold of.

“Axel, it is a grant thing to devote one’s self to science. What glory awaits Mr. Lidenbrock, and will be reflected on his companions! When you come back, Axel, you will be a man, an equal, free to speak, free to act, free too––”

The girl blushed, and did not finish the sentence.

“When science has spoken, it is for us to hold our peace.”

I went back to the parsonage, very crestfallen. My uncle had vanquished me by scientific arguments.

As a true nephew of Professor Lidenbrock, and notwithstanding my mental preoccupation, I was interested in observing the mineralogical curiosities displayed in this vast cabinet of natural history, and, at the same time, was going over in my mind the whole geological history of Iceland.

I was on the summit of one of the twin peaks of Snäffel […]. I commanded a view of almost the whole island. […] I could have said that one of Helbesmer’s relievo maps lay before me. […] precipices seemed mere walls, lakes changed into ponds, and rivers were little streams. On my right there were glaciers without number, and innumerable peaks […].

[…] I forgot who I was, and where I was […]. I gave myself to the luxury of the heights […].

What the boring machine, an insensible inert instrument, could not bring to the surface, we could examine with our eyes, and touch with our hands. […] I could not but think what riches are hid in the depths of the earth, which covetous humanity will never appropriate. These treasures have been buried so deep by the convulsions of primeval times, that neither mattock nor pickaxe will ever disinter them.

We were quite fit for this existence of troglodytes. I scarcely thought of sun, or stars, or moon, or trees, or houses, or towns, or any of those terrestrial superfluities which are necessary to sublunary beings. We were fossils now, and thought such useless marvels absurd.

“[…] if there is any law of increase in temperature, the heat here ought to be 1,500.”

“Ought to be, my boy.”

“And all this granite would be in a state of fusion, as it could not possibly remain in a solid state.”

“You see, however, that it is nothing of the sort, and that facts, as usual, give the lie to theories.”

How long this state of insensibility had lasted I cannot say, I had no longer any means of reckoning time. Never was solitude like mine, never was abandonment so absolute.

“I will explain nothing, for it is inexplicable; but you will see for yourself, and you will understand that geological knowledge is far from final.”

“Science, my boy, is made up of mistakes; but of mistakes which lead to the discovery of truth.”

The whole fossil world lives again in my imagination. I go back in fancy to the biblical epoch of creation, long before the advent of man, when the imperfect earth was not fitted to sustain him. Then still further back, when no life existed. […] All life was concentrated in me, my heart alone beat in a depopulated world.

“At any rate, we have no reason to regret having come so far. The scene is grand….”

“The question is not of scenery. I have an object in view, and I wish to attain it. Don’t talk to me of scenery.”

What another had done I would dare, and nothing to me seemed impossible.

The soul of the professor had passed into me. The spirit of a discoverer pervaded me. I forgot the past, I disdained the future! Nothing existed for me on the face of our planet, in whose bosom I was plunged, neither town nor country, neither Hamburg nor Königstrasse, nor my poor Gräuben, who must think me lost for ever in the bowels of the earth!

From that moment our reason, our judgment, our ingenuity went for nothing, we were to be the playthings of the elements.

“While the heart beats and the flesh palpitates, a creature endowed with will should never give place to despair.”

From that day my uncle was the happiest of sages, and I the happiest of men; for my lovely Virlandaise […] was installed in the Königstrasse house in double quality of niece and wife. I need not add that her uncle was the illustrious professor Otto Lidenbrock, corresponding member of all the scientific societies, geographical, and mineralogical […].