260913: i had to take a break on page 346, as the extensive description of application, recapitulation, celebration, of all industrial engineering resulting in 19th century European technology, by five men, from nothing, on an island which just happens to contain all desired resources, began to make me wonder if this is satire- really have to clarify this: i was not beginning to sense this in his writing, i was beginning to read it myself too much like satire, not taking it seriously- but no, this is sincere, scientific, humanistic, and obviously result of much research and imagination...
this break was a good, because once you leave behind or just ignore all this survival Science, possibility but not plausibility, this is a fun book. even though it is so long, it zips by, and it becomes clear that the protagonist is not any or all of the castaways or even their mysterious benefactor- the protagonist is Science, of all sorts, as presented most forcefully as Engineering. is it possible to have such innocent, unquestioning, all-encompassing, faith in the wonder and moral value of Science, of Engineering?... well perhaps in 1875, when this was published...
there are no women, no natives, no Others of any sort. there are not even any conflicts between the men, no doubts, but that the sincere application of so much, so applicable, so fortunately known Science, that if you are not willing to enter this mindset... i cannot help but be overwhelmed by absurdity of their technological progress throughout the years, their development of everything from iron to glass to an elevator, their construction of a boat, their rescue of yet another castaway, who has not been so fortunate in his exile. unfortunately, i already knew who is their mysterious benefactor, but this knowledge does not diminish the triumphant narrative of Science, and the ultimate appeal to the providence of god seems only kind of tacked on at the end...
this book made me think of several others, particularly other Verne, but the one that surprises me most comes out of nowhere: i think of Samuel Beckett's Trilogy. and no, i have not decided to reappraise those books, but made me wonder why this, which is about as long as those three, is so much easier to read even when i know what/who will be revealed as their mysterious djinni. there must be something, some pleasure, in this deliberate escape to an era, a world, that pre-dates the great horrors our protagonist Science can generate, that makes me think of those who read this in that time, those who could only foresee the wonders and not the terrors, something i do not even recall from childhood when everything from Vietnam on the TV to the unspoken, ever-present, idea of nuclear Armageddon, were only too strong an idea of Science...
but what this has to do with Beckett, i am unsure. have to think about it...
i think about it and recall one of the signal moments early on the island, when they measure the location of this place on something of latitude and longitude- this made me think of the philosophy of the 'life-world' (husserl) and the difference between lived space and the objective space (Cartesian) as measured on the more 'scientific' way, as defined by some arbitrary other scale which has no immediate, human, value. this makes me on reflection think of heidegger's contention we have ‘scientifically’'leveled' all the world as 'resource' rather than 'being'. how tall is that cliff, how can we measure it, how can we discover our place relative to the 'real' world, how can we use our clocks to place us. well, all of this is possible by Science. and how this place has rocks, sand, trees, grass, only in their utility as resources, only in how we humans or rather our avatars the five castaways, may use them...
this understanding of the world according to Science, as resources, instead of facing difficulty of climbing that cliff, rather our five relating on some Science 'stance'- instead of engaging the world as the World- this will be how the book seems to be a parody, a satire, but no, in fact, these educated castaways can be thought of as intelligent men of the industrial world, the island as our entire planet, and this is the romance of Science, that we should enact without doubt or uncertainty that this may be less than entirety of the world. that cliff is measured by calculating angles of trigonometry, whereas the ordinary man would say, Can i climb it? of the beach sand, We can fashion glass, rather than, Damn sand gets in everything! the island, as the World, seems an inexhaustible fount of resources, even as we are given argument about What will we humans do when the coal runs out? by that time we will use hydrogen, of course, simple sea water, and will not face that moment for what, two hundred years!...
Beckett has no arguments of that sort, no Science in fact or dream, only that complex reality each human must face bravely or not, of the absurdity of the World, and, in an almost religious way of thinking, we humans are our own greatest absurdity...
ah, but then, is it possible that humans are both scientific masters and existential clowns, in this world?...