for instance in Five Weeks in a Balloon or Adventures of Captain Hatteras. During the 1870s, however, their image became less attractive, and in MI, British colonialism in India is criticized. In The Steam House (1879) a chapter entitled “The Indian Mutiny” (I, 33) shows that Verne’s views were not always anti-colonialist, but also provides information about Tippo-Sahib, Prince Dakkar’s uncle and historical model: “Under Lord Cornwallis, in 1784 … battle [was made] with Tippo-Sahib, killed on 4 May 1799, in the last assault given by General Harris on Seringapatam … In 1806, perhaps even under the inspiration of Tippo-Sahib’s son, the garrison of the native army of Madras … cut the throats of the officers and their families, shot the ill soldiers even in the hospital … through the hatred of the invaders by the invaded.” Verne’s source for MI is perhaps M. de Valbezen, cited in The Steam House and who praises the British as having brought great benefits to the whole of India.19 In sum, Verne’s opinions on even Tippo-Sahib are contradictory; and it would therefore be unwise to attempt to summarize his overall views on the British in India.
An additional inconsistency in Verne’s political views is that even the concept of progress is fraught with problems. In MI, the destruction of the Island at the end, meaning that all has been in vain, is part of a cyclical vision of human affairs. Circular repetition of life had indeed been earlier emphasized by Cyrus Smith (I, 21); it will form the central theme of “Edom” (1910), where the annihilation of civilization happens several times and may perhaps continue indefinitely in the future, generated by man’s excessive pride in his scientific achievements. The novelist’s popular reputation as an apologist for science and progress is clearly mistaken.
The island moves from the north Pacific in “UR” to the south in MI. The reason is presumably so as to be close to Ayrton’s Tabor island. Kravitz (Ibid.) remarks that in the move many landmarks are rotated through 180°: the landing place and the granite wall, for example, shift from the western to the eastern shore. More generally, Guermonprez (“Notes,” 14) points out: “Verne … transports … a whole fauna unknown to this region, such as the mouflon, (European) porcupine … the onager of Mongolia, the orang-utan, the tragopan; and endows the Island with a variegated flora such as the deodar, dragon tree … nettle tree, mastic tree, horse-radish … ficoids … American maple.” Lincoln certainly contains an amazing variety of animals and plants, including a jaguar (I, 13), even if Verne shows each exotic animal once before hiding it again. Many studies have pointed out that the ecology of a small island would not support the number of predators necessary to avoid inbreeding. Many have also pointed out the number of northern flora and fauna, claiming that this is because they were imported from “UR.” But such comments lack logic. Verne is simply mixing up all sorts, whether from the eastern or western, northern or southern hemispheres: the orang-utan and onager were no more at home in the north Pacific than the south. In Journey to the Centre of the Earth, indeed, Verne explicitly comments on such juxtapositions (ch. 39),20 which extrapolate the general tendency of fiction to condense reality, but were especially prevalent in writers influenced by Romanticism.
For those seeking total authenticity, the position of the Island may also cause problems, quite apart from the surprising amount of snow and ice at 35° S. Even today, there are many Pacific islands and reefs whose existence is in doubt. Verne deliberately plays with the frontier between fact and fiction, but a further complication is in his calculation of longitude. In MI, the settlers use the Greenwich meridian (I, 14), but the narrator uses the Paris meridian, at least for Norfolk Island, which he places at longitude “165° 42′ E” (III, 2) whereas it is 168° 3′ from Greenwich. The difference between the Greenwich and Paris meridians is 2° 20′, or about 140 miles at this latitude.
Smith places the Mysterious Island at “34° 57′ S” and “150° 30′ W” (II, 9)—which is the site of persistent but unconfirmed reports of authentic land. Krauth reports that an “Ernest-Legouvé Reef” is situated at 35° 12′ S, 150° 40′ W, which is very close.21 Although absent from the 1859 Admiralty Chart, the reef was recorded in “Paris notice to mariners 164/1122/1902,” and the International Hydrographic Bureau stated on 9 February 1957: “Ernest-Legouvé Reef was reported in 1902 by the captain of the French ship the Ernest-Legouvé. The reef was about 100 meters long and another reef was sighted near it.”
Tabor is similarly elusive. Although MI surprisingly omits the idea, Captain Grant’s Children claims that Ayrton’s home has more than one name: “Maria Theresa on British and German maps, but Tabor on French ones” (III, 21).22 In reality, its existence and even French name are doubtful. Verne admits that it is “low … scarcely emerging from the waves … If an eruption produced it, can one not fear that an eruption might carry it away?” (III, 20). In Captain Grant’s Children Verne gives its coordinates as “37° 11′ S, 153° W” (III, 21); the Paris meridian is normally used by the narrator in this novel, for instance for Tristan da Cunha (II, 2) or in the maps (I, 20 and III, 2). Smith also states that Tabor is at “37° 11′ S, 153° W” (II, 9), but using the Greenwich meridian this time. Clearly Verne and Smith can not both be right.
Tabor/Maria Theresa’s existence was reported in three contemporary newspapers as a dangerous reef seen at 37° S, 151° 13′ W on 16 November 1843 by a Captain Asaph P. Tabor, of the Maria Theresa, a whaler from New Bedford, Massachusetts.23 According to Krauth (32), who makes, however, several mistakes, the logbook of the Maria Theresa may read “Saw breakers.” Krauth further claims that Tabor (and therefore presumably the Mysterious Island) would be in French waters if they existed. Perhaps borrowing from Captain Tabor’s account, a Don Miller achieved great fame in the US in the 1960s by claiming to be broadcasting from a radio station on “Maria Theresa Reef,” south of Tahiti, and even published a photograph of himself “On the Rock’s [sic].” However, Miller subsequently spent a decade in prison for fraud-related cases. Hugh Cassidy, discussing his escapades (WWW), claims that “A nautical chart … issued by the W. Faden Company, Oceanographers to the King [George III], in 1817 lists Maria Theresa”; the shoal also apparently appears in US Hydrographic Office chart no. 2683 (1978), together with others in the vicinity; and a minority of charts continue to indicate its existence. But unfortunately, Cassidy and Krauth’s information as to the date of the first naming can not both be true, and in any case little direct proof has ever been produced. A government scientist, Henry Stommel, sardonically points out in his book, Lost Islands (1984), that if Tabor did exist, it would be an independent country, and so would have immense financial worth. He seems to be correct in both his view of national limits and his skepticism about the island’s existence.
To sum up a complex situation, Verne positions Tabor 153° W of both Paris and Greenwich, whereas in real life it would be about 151° or 153° W of Greenwich. Smith seems to be wrong in his calculation of Tabor’s position, possibly by as much as four degrees. Since the Mysterious Island is positioned with reference to Tabor, this in turn means that the position of the Island can not reliably be determined.
Given that the real-life Ernest Legouvé (1807–1903) was a friend of Verne’s who promised to help satisfy his cherished ambition of joining the Académie française,24 there may be a hidden connection somewhere. If Legouvé and Theresa reefs had a common origin, based on the misreading of a meridian, then Tabor and Lincoln would also be one and the same island. Certainly, amongst all the reports and inventions, Verne seems to lose or gain two degrees so often as to appear beyond mere carelessness. Just as the missing day of Around the World emerges in the most surprising places, so the Mystery of the Island is a wide-ranging one.
While all of Verne’s novels, with their huge density of real-world information, have naturally generated considerable discussion of their mistakes and inconsistencies, MI seems more vulnerable than most. In the surprising absence of authoritative texts of the works, the following paragraphs will continue the attempt to indicate the implausibilities in MI.
Sometimes the narrator actively misleads the reader. One example
