Kindled for free. This is one of Verne’s very worst books and I would strongly urge you to avoid it. The setting is an abandoned mine near Edinburgh where a family of dissatisfied miners still lurk, chasing shadows and hoping to find more coal to chase. The plot may appear tempting, with a trip to Scotland and some quaint folklore, but not only is there very little of Verne’s usual brilliance, the book is completely spoilt by the hard to understand biases of the time. One of the central plot-lines involves a girl found in the caves who the male characters all decide must be civilised and married off at once. The way I’m describing it probably doesn’t seem so bad, but somehow the narrator’s cavalier attitude and blatant sexism is much more disquieting when it makes one of the central plot lines. Quotes to illustrate:
{Traces of Verne’s true brilliance – predicting electricity and hydraulic motors}
"There is no fear of that now, Mr. Starr. But yet, the mines will be exhausted, no doubt, and more rapidly than the statistics make out!" "That will happen, Harry; and in my opinion England is very wrong in exchanging her fuel for the gold of other nations! I know well," added the engineer, "that neither hydraulics nor electricity has yet shown all they can do, and that some day these two forces will be more completely utilized. But no matter! Coal is of a very practical use, and lends itself easily to the various wants of industry.
{Verne’s more disturbing ideas}
Although unfit for any vegetable production, the place could be inhabited by a whole population. And who knows but that in this steady temperature, in the depths of the mines of Aberfoyle, as well as in those of Newcastle, Alloa, or Cardiff—when their contents shall have been exhausted—who knows but that the poorer classes of Great Britain will some day find a refuge?
{women as objects}
"Ah, Jack!" replied Harry, "I am glad to see you. I've got something to propose."
"I can listen to nothing till you tell me how Nell is," interrupted Jack Ryan.
"Nell is all right, Jack—so much so, in fact, that I hope in a month or six weeks—"
"To marry her, Harry?"
"Jack, you don't know what you are talking about!"
"Ah, that's very likely; but I know quite well what I shall do."
"What will you do?"
"Marry her myself, if you don't; so look sharp," laughed Jack. "By Saint Mungo! I think an immense deal of bonny Nell! A fine young creature like that, who has been brought up in the mine, is just the very wife for a miner. She is an orphan—so am I; and if you don't care much for her, and if she will have me—"
...
"I mean just this—that, it being certain Nell has never been outside this coal mine in the very depths of which she was born, it stands to reason that she knows nothing, and can comprehend nothing of what exists beyond it. Her eyes—yes, and perhaps also her heart—have everything yet to learn. Who can tell what her thoughts will be, when perfectly new impressions shall be made upon her mind? As yet she knows nothing of the world, and to me it would seem like deceiving her, if I led her to decide in ignorance, upon choosing to remain all her life in the coal mine. Do you understand me, Jack?"
"Well done, Harry! that's how I like to be spoken to! Let's settle, then, that, before you marry Nell, she shall go to school in Auld Reekie."
"No indeed, Jack; I am perfectly able myself to educate the person who is to be my wife."
"Sure that will be a great deal better, Harry!"
{Reliable geography of Edinburgh except Arthur’s seat as an easy-to-climb hill! – the main character later climbs back down carrying his fainted woman-possession}
Between the silent dwellings of the city, the party passed along Leith Walk, and went round the Calton Hill, where stood, in the light of the gray dawn, the buildings of the Observatory and Nelson's Monument. By Regent's Bridge and the North Bridge they at last reached the lower extremity of the Canongate. The town still lay wrapt in slumber.
Nell pointed to a large building in the center of an open space, asking, "What great confused mass is that?"
"That confused mass, Nell, is the palace of the ancient kings of Scotland; that is Holyrood, where many a sad scene has been enacted! The historian can here invoke many a royal shade; from those of the early Scottish kings to that of the unhappy Mary Stuart, and the French king, Charles X. When day breaks, however, Nell, this palace will not look so very gloomy. Holyrood, with its four embattled towers, is not unlike some handsome country house. But let us pursue our way. There, just above the ancient Abbey of Holyrood, are the superb cliffs called Salisbury Crags. Arthur's Seat rises above them, and that is where we are going. From the summit of Arthur's Seat, Nell, your eyes shall behold the sun appear above the horizon seaward."
They entered the King's Park, then, gradually ascending they passed across the Queen's Drive, a splendid carriageway encircling the hill, which we owe to a few lines in one of Sir Walter Scott's romances. Arthur's Seat is in truth only a hill, seven hundred and fifty feet high, which stands alone amid surrounding heights. In less than half an hour, by an easy winding path, James Starr and his party reached the crest of the crouching lion, which, seen from the west, Arthur's Seat so much resembles.