Journey to the Center of the Earth: Situational Irony 2 key examples

In this passage, there is an ironic discrepancy between the way someone who loves books would be expected to act and the way Professor Lidenbrock views books. Most bibliophiles—people who love books—might value old books for several reasons. These could include their inherent intellectual worth, their financial value, the knowledge they hold, and/or their aesthetic and historical significance. This expectation of what a “bibliophile” cares about sets the stage for the irony of Lidenbrock’s priorities. The fact that Lidenbrock is a well-known intellectual and "savant" also suggests a certain attitude toward books. A reader might expect an academic to at least respect them, if not revere them.

Contrary to a typical bibliophile and this expectation, though, Professor Lidenbrock values old books only if they are rare, impossible to find elsewhere, or unreadable. This is ironic because, rather than treasuring books for their content or intrinsic qualities, Lidenbrock places value only on exclusivity or mysteriousness. Essentially, a book's worth in Lidenbrock's eyes is not in its content but in its unavailability to others or in its unreadability. Instead of loving books for the information and insight they provide, Lidenbrock only truly enjoys things that are inaccessible to others—though it's also worth noting that this is most likely an exaggeration intended to admiringly poke fun of Lidenbrock's tendency to gravitate toward esoteric intellectual pursuits.

The situational irony in this passage arises from the discrepancy between the Professor’s expectations and the reality of the situation in his Icelandic colleague’s house. After this enthusiastic exchange highlighting Saknussemm's literary and scientific contributions, where both men praise him as being one of the “glories of Icelandic science and literature,” the Professor is more eager than ever to see his works. This extended dialogue builds anticipation and sets the reader up to believe that a moment of scholarly discovery is about to happen.

However, Verne quickly subverts this expectation. When Fridrikson says that he “hasn’t one of them,” it’s just the lead-up to the fact that, despite his fame, not a single work of Saknussemm’s actually even exists in Iceland. Indeed, even the “Reikiavik” professor, a Saknussemm enthusiast, has no idea if any still remain. He regretfully tells Lidenbrock that they were all destroyed long ago. Iceland has lots of excellent libraries and a great deal of academics, but nothing by the person Lidenbrock and Axel have come to study.

This ironic twist introduces a comical element to the narrative, but it’s also one of many moments where the author suggests the pursuit of knowledge can be difficult and unforgiving. Lidenbrock’s enthusiastic anticipation—followed by the anticlimactic realization and disappointment—mirrors the unpredictable nature of any intellectual exploration or effort. It makes both narrator and reader feel concerned about the future of the expedition: what else to come might surprise them so completely? Situational irony, in this case, does more than entertain Verne’s audience: it also subtly introduces the idea that Lidenbrock’s expectations of the trip might not align with reality.