Penguin Books, £7.99, ISBN 978-0-241-55311-4
Adventure and Exploration, 2021 (Reissue)

Around the World in 80 Days was first published in serial form during the 1870s, when Jules Verne was in need of quick cash.

This probably explains why this story remains the most accessible story by this author to date: it’s unexpectedly succinct and precise when it comes to the narrative style. Unlike some of his other stuff, this one doesn’t boast too many long exposition dumps on stuff that were considered prime sci-fi back in those days. This is why I’d recommend this one to people unfamiliar with the author, as if they like this one, they can gradually transition into the author’s more “heavy” works.

The story is probably well know, as it’s adapted into so many small screen and big screen adaptations that make me cringe a little inside, as I’m such a purist that I haven’t seen any that measure up to the source material.

It’s about, of course, the mysterious gentleman Phileas Fogg. He’s wealthy, but no one really knows how or from where he gets his fortune of £40,000 in the bank. He is handsome and striking, but he keeps to himself and maintains a low profile aside from playing whist at the Reform Club with other well-heeled gentlemen.

The fun begins when an article in the Morning Chronicle speculates that, with the completion of a railway line in India, one can now travel around the world in 80 days. The article also proposes an itinerary to achieve this feat. While most of the gentlemen in the Reform Club scoff at the idea, Mr Fogg believes that it is indeed possible. He’d, in fact, do it himself, and wagers half his fortune that he’d succeed.

Meanwhile, earlier that day, Mr Fogg has fired his manservant because the man passed him the shaving water at 2ºF below his stipulated temperature of 86ºF. The man known as Jean Passepartout shows up to be interviewed as the replacement, and he promptly gets the job.

Passepartout finds Mr Fogg a cold and distant as well as very calculative man that lives rigidly according to a very precise schedule—not a second off is tolerated—and he is thrilled. I suppose he likes order and structure, having done all kinds of jobs in the past to get by, plus living in a luxurious big house isn’t a bad thing.

He’d have to reconsider his estimation about Mr Fogg being a man of predictable routine, though, when shortly after his employment begins, he is tasked by his employer to pack light and fast as they are going on a trip around the world now.

At its core, this is an action-packed road trip around the world, with the drama stemming from Passepartout’s innocent conversation with Detective Fix from the Scotland Yard leads the latter into believing that Mr Fogg is the bank robber that ran off with £55,000 from the Bank of England shortly before Mr Fogg’s departure. Could that thief be using a bet as an excuse to escape the law? Not if Mr Fix can help it!

It’s a fun trip. One thing about Jules Verne is that he could take the most fantastical concepts and notions, and then wrap them up scientific gobbledygook to make them appear so credible. Here, however, it’s more about time zones, hence this story could be one fun way to get kids to become familiar with how time and date can change when one travels from one time zone to another. The author’s technique also makes this story fantastical and yet seemingly real.

Let’s just say that reading this story as a child made me dream for so long of going around the world myself. Then, I grew up, realized the world is far more boring than it is portrayed in fiction, and became content with just watching documentaries.

The pacing is tight, taking me from one fascinating scene to another, and the author’s willingness to spare no words in describing the scenery, culture, sights, and sounds all make me feel like I’m right there with these two fools gallivanting up and down the place, and it’s a fun vicarious roller-coaster ride.

These two characters will be familiar to readers of Mr Verne’s stories, as the author is fond of having the main characters be a combination of the brain—typically an academic or a scholar or, in this story, a know-it-all—and the earnest, younger male fellow that tags along as the muscle and reader’s placeholder. 

Here, the muscle is Passepartout. He is the author’s traditional placeholder for the reader, as he is as unfamiliar with Mr Fogg as the reader and hence the reader is right there along with him as he learns more about his employer as time passes.

Indeed, Mr Fogg— the brain, one who would make the archetypal romance hero were he to have a military past, a scar on his face or a limp, and without that autism—has to lose his cool and finds his schedule go off-kilter quite often, and the guy actually does become more human even as he tries so hard to remain stoic.

Also, there is a female character that will show up later in the story, which is described as flat or a poster woman for misogyny by modern-day white women that judge everything through their AWFL lens without understanding the concept of context and nuance.

These AWFL women are, naturally, wrong like they are wrong about so many things including their own intellect: it is not easy to escape one’s cultural conditioning, and the fact that this woman actually does that and even offers to bail Mr Fogg out at a climactic moment goes against the narrative that this woman is a product of a chauvinist white male’s imagination.

If anything, I’d argue that this female character is tad unrealistic for what she is, but that’s not really an issue considering the kind of story she is running around in.

All in all, this is a fun Baby’s First Jules Verne experience!