Captain Nemo_ The Fantastic History of a Dark Genius - Kevin J Anderson [78]
He spoke in a nasal, looping language that Nemo did not understand. The young man shook his head, and the stranger spoke again in a different language, one he recognized as German. When finally the man attempted French, Nemo understood him. “I certainly hope you can explain your presence, Monsieur,” the stranger said. “I am most curious.”
These were the first friendly words Nemo had heard in more than seven years -- since the day he had climbed to the lookout post of the Coralie under Captain Grant’s orders and saw a pirate ship approaching.
“I . . . can explain myself.” His little-used voice sounded rusty and hoarse in his throat. “But I don’t know if you’ll believe me.”
xi
Disappointingly, Alexandre Dumas found both of Verne’s historical plays -- his “serious work” -- to be forced and tedious. Without promise.
On his way back from his second trip to Monte Cristo two weeks later, Verne sulked in the carriage, staring at the piles of paper on which Dumas had scrawled his comments. The wheels crashed over a pothole, and Verne didn’t even look up. He flipped from page to page, eyes burning, face hot, as he read insult after insult. Did the great man think he had no talent at all?
He picked up the next manuscript and tossed aside the romantic poetry -- “pure drivel” -- that he had also presented to Dumas. Verne wanted to just throw himself from the carriage and into the Seine. A man like Dumas couldn’t possibly be wrong in his opinion.
Oddly, the enormous writer had actually found merit in a light romantic farce Verne had written, called Broken Straws. Still stinging from the criticism of his more ambitious works, Verne reread the encouragement as if he were swallowing medicine. In his own mind, this piece was but a slight comedy, nothing respectable, nothing like the important works of Balzac or Hugo. . . . But he buoyed up his confidence to read the words, in Dumas’s own hand, that Broken Straws showed a bit of promise. “With appropriate fixing.”
Then the most enthralling note of all: Dumas promised to stage the humorous production at his Theatre Historique, after Verne (and Dumas) had made the necessary revisions.
#
Although Broken Straws was lost in the volume of plays and operas performed on the boulevard du Temple, it drew enough of an audience that it played for twelve nights running. This earned Jules Verne a few sous and, most important, paid back the production costs, so that it was not the utter failure he had feared it might be.
Heady with success and delighted at the expansive future before him, Verne did everything that Dumas suggested to him, though the great novelist still didn’t ask him to join his stable of writing assistants. Verne would somehow have to make it on his own, work harder, try over and over again . . . and still maintain his legal studies, so that his father never knew.
Dumas urged Verne to write articles for popular science magazines and the children’s publications of the day. Verne made only a little money at this, but even a few extra coins per month helped -- and he was taking tentative steps down a glorious literary path that stretched in front of him. Seeing his name in print provided more excitement than the best passing grade in the most difficult of classes.
Jules Verne decided he just might become an author after all . . . if only he could find something interesting enough to write about.
xii
Nemo’s bespectacled rescuer was named Arne Saknusemm, a cave explorer and amateur geologist, who enjoyed poking around in volcanic craters. He helped Nemo to his feet, steadying him on the steep slope of rubble.
“Which island is this?” Nemo shivered in his tattered clothes that had been pieced together for use in a tropical climate. “Where am I? It’s so cold.”
Saknusemm scratched