Passepartout hero Jules Verna. Several reasons why you should read the book
"Around the world in eighty days"(fr. Le tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours ) - popular adventure novel French writer Jules Verne, which tells the story of the journey of the eccentric and phlegmatic Englishman Phileas Fogg and his French servant Jean Passepartout around the world, undertaken as a result of one bet.
Plot
Path
| Path | Way | Duration |
|---|---|---|
| London - Suez | Train and packet boat | 7 days |
| Suez - Bombay | Packetbot | 13 days |
| Bombay - Kolkata | Train and elephant | 3 days |
| Kolkata - Hong Kong | Packetbot | 13 days |
| Hong Kong - Yokohama | 6 days | |
| Yokohama - San Francisco | 22 days | |
| San Francisco - New York | Train and sleigh | 7 days |
| New York - London | Packet boat and train | 9 days |
| Bottom line | 80 days | |
Illustrations by Neville and Bennett
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Phileas Fogg's Journey Map
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Book cover
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Phileas Fogg
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Jean Passepartout
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Passepartout in Suez
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Everyone was sorted out
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Unplanned purchase
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Traveling on a new transport
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Hindu woman in captivity
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Rescue of Miss Auda
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Passepartout's farewell to the elephant
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In the smoking room
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Fix arrests Fogg
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Fogg enters the club at the head of the crowd
Characters
Main
- Phileas Fogg(fr. Phileas Fogg) - Englishman, pedant, bachelor, wealthy man. He is used to living according to the rules he has established and does not tolerate the slightest violation them (this is proven by the fact that Fogg fired his former servant, James Forster, because he brought him shaving water heated 2 °F below the required level). He knows how to keep his word: he bet 20 thousand pounds sterling that he would travel around the world in 80 days, spent 19 thousand and was exposed to many dangers, but still kept his word and won the bet.
- Jean Passepartout(fr. Jean Passepartout) - Frenchman, valet of Phileas Fogg after James Forster. Born in Paris. I tried the most unusual professions (from a gymnastics teacher to a fireman). Having learned that “Mr. Phileas Fogg is the neatest man and the biggest homebody in the United Kingdom,” he came to his service.
- Fix(fr. Fix) - detective; throughout the book he chased Phileas Fogg around the globe, considering him a thief who robbed the Bank of England.
- Aouda(fr. Aouda) - the wife of an Indian rajah, who after his death was supposed to die at the stake along with her husband's ashes. Auda was saved by Phileas Fogg; she became his companion all the way to England, where Fogg and Auda got married.
Minor
- Andrew Stewart(fr. Andrew Stuart), John Sullivan(fr. John Sullivan), Samuel Fallentine(fr. Samuel Fallentin), Thomas Flanagan(fr. Thomas Flanagan) And Gautier Ralph(fr. Gauthier Ralph) - members of the Reform Club, who, while playing whist, bet with Fogg that he would not be able to accomplish trip around the world in 80 days.
- Andrew Speedy(fr. Andrew Speedy) - captain of the ship "Henrietta", who became one of the most serious obstacles on Fogg's path from the USA to England: he planned to go to Bordeaux, France.
Current state
Unusually popular during the author's lifetime, the novel still serves as the basis for numerous film adaptations, and the image of Phileas Fogg has become the embodiment of English equanimity and perseverance in achieving goals.
Film adaptations
In cinema
In animation
- 1972 - 80 days around the world (Australia)
- 1976 - Puss in Boots around the world (Japan)
- 1983 - Around the World with Willy Fog (Spain-Japan) Animated series
see also
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Notes
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Excerpt describing Around the World in 80 Days
“She’s the one,” came the rude answer. female voice, and after that Marya Dmitrievna entered the room.All the young ladies and even the ladies, with the exception of the oldest ones, stood up. Marya Dmitrievna stopped at the door and, from the height of her corpulent body, holding high her fifty-year-old head with gray curls, looked around at the guests and, as if rolling up, slowly straightened the wide sleeves of her dress. Marya Dmitrievna always spoke Russian.
“Dear birthday girl with the children,” she said in her loud, thick voice, suppressing all other sounds. “What, you old sinner,” she turned to the count, who was kissing her hand, “tea, are you bored in Moscow?” Is there anywhere to run the dogs? What should we do, father, this is how these birds will grow up...” She pointed to the girls. - Whether you want it or not, you have to look for suitors.
- Well, what, my Cossack? (Marya Dmitrievna called Natasha a Cossack) - she said, caressing Natasha with her hand, who approached her hand without fear and cheerfully. – I know that the potion is a girl, but I love her.
She took out pear-shaped yakhon earrings from her huge reticule and, giving them to a beaming and blushing Natasha, immediately turned away from her and turned to Pierre.
- Eh, eh! kind! “Come here,” she said in a feignedly quiet and thin voice. - Come on, my dear...
And she menacingly rolled up her sleeves even higher.
Pierre approached, naively looking at her through his glasses.
- Come, come, my dear! I was the only one who told your father the truth when he had a chance, but God commands it to you.
She paused. Everyone was silent, waiting for what would happen, and feeling that there was only a preface.
- Good, nothing to say! good boy!... The father is lying on his bed, and he is amusing himself, putting the policeman on a bear. It's a shame, father, it's a shame! It would be better to go to war.
She turned away and offered her hand to the count, who could hardly restrain himself from laughing.
- Well, come to the table, I have tea, is it time? - said Marya Dmitrievna.
The count walked ahead with Marya Dmitrievna; then the countess, who was led by a hussar colonel, the right person, with whom Nikolai was supposed to catch up with the regiment. Anna Mikhailovna - with Shinshin. Berg shook hands with Vera. A smiling Julie Karagina went with Nikolai to the table. Behind them came other couples, stretching across the entire hall, and behind them, one by one, were children, tutors and governesses. The waiters began to stir, the chairs rattled, music began to play in the choir, and the guests took their seats. The sounds of the count's home music were replaced by the sounds of knives and forks, the chatter of guests, quiet steps waiters.
At one end of the table the Countess sat at the head. On the right is Marya Dmitrievna, on the left is Anna Mikhailovna and other guests. At the other end sat the count, on the left the hussar colonel, on the right Shinshin and other male guests. On one side of the long table are older young people: Vera next to Berg, Pierre next to Boris; on the other hand - children, tutors and governesses. From behind the crystal, bottles and vases of fruit, the Count looked at his wife and her tall cap with blue ribbons and diligently poured wine for his neighbors, not forgetting himself. The countess also, from behind the pineapples, not forgetting her duties as a housewife, cast significant glances at her husband, whose bald head and face, it seemed to her, were sharper in their redness than gray hair. There was a steady babble on the ladies' end; in the men's room, voices were heard louder and louder, especially the hussar colonel, who ate and drank so much, blushing more and more, that the count was already setting him up as an example to the other guests. Berg, with a gentle smile, spoke to Vera that love is not an earthly, but a heavenly feeling. Boris named his new friend Pierre the guests at the table and exchanged glances with Natasha, who was sitting opposite him. Pierre spoke little, looked at new faces and ate a lot. Starting from two soups, from which he chose a la tortue, [turtle,] and kulebyaki and to hazel grouse, he did not miss a single dish and not a single wine, which the butler mysteriously stuck out in a bottle wrapped in a napkin from behind his neighbor’s shoulder, saying or “drey Madeira", or "Hungarian", or "Rhine wine". He placed the first of the four crystal glasses with the count's monogram that stood in front of each device, and drank with pleasure, looking at the guests with an increasingly pleasant expression. Natasha, sitting opposite him, looked at Boris the way thirteen-year-old girls look at a boy with whom they had just kissed for the first time and with whom they are in love. This same look of hers sometimes turned to Pierre, and under the gaze of this funny, lively girl he wanted to laugh himself, not knowing why.
Nikolai sat far from Sonya, next to Julie Karagina, and again with the same involuntary smile he spoke to her. Sonya smiled grandly, but apparently was tormented by jealousy: she turned pale, then blushed and listened with all her might to what Nikolai and Julie were saying to each other. The governess looked around restlessly, as if preparing to fight back if anyone decided to offend the children. The German tutor tried to memorize all kinds of dishes, desserts and wines in order to describe everything in detail in a letter to his family in Germany, and was very offended by the fact that the butler, with a bottle wrapped in a napkin, carried him around. The German frowned, tried to show that he did not want to receive this wine, but was offended because no one wanted to understand that he needed the wine not to quench his thirst, not out of greed, but out of conscientious curiosity.
At the male end of the table the conversation became more and more animated. The colonel said that the manifesto declaring war had already been published in St. Petersburg and that the copy that he himself had seen had now been delivered by courier to the commander-in-chief.
- And why is it difficult for us to fight Bonaparte? - said Shinshin. – II a deja rabattu le caquet a l "Autriche. Je crins, que cette fois ce ne soit notre tour. [He has already knocked down the arrogance of Austria. I am afraid that our turn would not come now.]
The colonel was a stocky, tall and sanguine German, obviously a servant and a patriot. He was offended by Shinshin's words.
“And then, we are a good sovereign,” he said, pronouncing e instead of e and ъ instead of ь. “Then that the emperor knows this. He said in his manifesto that he can look indifferently at the dangers threatening Russia, and that the safety of the empire, its dignity and the sanctity of alliances,” he said, for some reason especially emphasizing the word “unions”, as if this was the whole essence of the matter.
And with his characteristic infallible, official memory, he repeated opening words manifesto... “and the desire, the sole and indispensable goal of the sovereign: to establish peace in Europe on solid foundations - they decided to now send part of the army abroad and make new efforts to achieve “this intention.”
Current page: 1 (book has 3 pages in total)
Jules Verne
Around the world in 80 Days
Original artwork © Libico Maraja Association, 2015
Use without permission is strictly prohibited.
© Translation into Russian, design. Eksmo Publishing House LLC, 2015
* * *
Back in 1872, the English gentleman Phileas Fogg made a bet with other gentlemen that he would travel around the world in 80 days. At the time it seemed incredible. And he won this bet. That's how it was.
At number seven Savile Row in London lived Phileas Fogg, a man highest degree decent and attractive, but at the same time surrounded by an aura of mystery. Nobody knew absolutely nothing about him, he had neither family nor friends. There is no doubt that he was very rich, although no one knew where he got his money from. And this gentleman never said anything about himself, and in general he was a man of few words and said anything only when absolutely necessary.
Phileas Fogg's most remarkable trait was his punctuality. In the mornings he got up exactly at eight o'clock; at eight o'clock twenty-three minutes he had breakfast with tea and toasted bread; at nine thirty-seven minutes his servant James Forster brought him water for shaving; At twenty minutes to ten Phileas Fogg began shaving, washed and dressed. When the clock struck half-past eleven, he left the house and spent the whole day at the venerable and famous London Reform Club.
Phileas Fogg was tall and handsome man with a noble bearing, fair hair, with a penetrating gaze blue eyes, which instantly turned into pieces of ice when their owner got angry. He always walked at a measured pace, never rushed, because everything in his life was calculated with mathematical precision.
He lived like this for years, doing the same thing at the same time, but then one day - namely on the morning of October 2, 1872 - something unexpected happened. The shaving water was too cold, only eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit instead of eighty-six. Unforgivable negligence! Mr. Fogg, of course, immediately drove away the unfortunate James Forster and found another servant in his place.
The new servant was a young, sociable Frenchman, Jean Passepartout, a jack of all trades. During his life, he managed to be a lot of things: a traveling singer, a circus rider, a gymnastics teacher, and even a fireman. But now he wanted only one thing - to live a calm and measured life.
He arrived at the house on Savile Row a few minutes before Phileas Fogg went to the club.
“I heard, Mr. Fogg, that you are the most punctual and calm gentleman in the kingdom,” said Passepartout. “That’s why I decided to offer you my services.”
– Do you know my conditions? asked Phileas Fogg.
- Yes, sir.
- Fine. From now on you are in my service.
With these words Phileas Fogg rose from his chair, took his hat, and left the house, as the clock struck half-past twelve.
Arriving at the Reform Club, an imposing building in Pall Mall Street, Mr. Fogg ordered his usual lunch. After the meal, he, as always, read the latest newspapers until lunch, and then continued this activity. All the newspapers were full of reports about the sensational bank robbery that had happened three days ago. The attacker stole fifty thousand pounds sterling from the Bank of England.
The police suspected that the kidnapper was no ordinary thief. On the day of the theft, a well-dressed gentleman was walking back and forth near the cash counter in the payment hall. Signs of this gentleman were sent to all police agents in England and in the largest ports of the world, and a significant reward was promised for the arrest of the thief.
“Well, most likely the bank lost its money,” suggested engineer Andrew Stewart.
“No, no,” objected Ralph Gautier, an employee of the Bank of England, “I’m sure that the criminal will definitely be found.”
“But I still maintain that all the odds are on the thief’s side,” said Stuart.
-Where could he have disappeared to? asked banker John Sullivan. “There is not a single country where he can feel safe.”
- Oh, I don’t know. But the Earth is big,” replied Samuel Fallentine, another banker.
“She was once great,” noted Phileas Fogg, suddenly joining the conversation.
Stuart turned to him.
-What did you mean, Mr. Fogg? Why was there once? Has the world become smaller?
“Without a doubt,” answered Phileas Fogg.
“I agree with Mr. Fogg,” said Ralph. – The earth has really shrunk. Now you can drive around it ten times faster than a century ago.
Brewer Thomas Flanagan intervened in the conversation.
- So what? Even if you travel around the world in three months...
“In eighty days, gentlemen,” Phileas Fogg interrupted him. – Take a look at the calculations printed in Daily Telegraph.
"From London to Suez via Mont Cenis
and Brindisi by train and ship 7 days;
from Suez to Bombay by steamer 13 days;
from Bombay to Calcutta by train 3 days;
from Calcutta to Hong Kong by steamship 13 days;
from Hong Kong to Yokohama by boat 6 days;
from Yokohama to San Francisco by steamer 22 days;
from San Francisco to New York by train 7 days;
from New York to London by boat and train 9 days
Total: 80 days.”
“Well, you know, you can write anything on paper,” Sullivan objected. – After all, neither headwinds or bad weather, nor transport breakdowns and other surprises are taken into account here.
“Everything is taken into account,” said Phileas Fogg.
“Mr. Fogg, theoretically, perhaps, it is possible,” said Stuart. - But in reality...
– In reality, too, Mr. Stewart.
- I'd like to see how you do it. I'm willing to bet four thousand pounds that a trip around the world under these conditions is impossible.
“On the contrary, it is quite possible,” objected Phileas Fogg.
- Wonderful. Then prove it to us! - exclaimed the five gentlemen.
- With pleasure! I just warn you that the trip is at your expense.
- Excellent, Mr. Fogg. We each bet four thousand pounds.
- Agreed. I have twenty thousand in the bank, and I am ready to risk it... I will go this evening, at a quarter to nine, by train to Dover.
- Tonight? – Stuart was surprised.
“Exactly so,” confirmed Phileas Fogg. – Today is Wednesday, the second of October. I must return to the Reform club salon on the twenty-first of December at eight forty-five minutes.
Phileas Fogg left the club at seven twenty-five, having won twenty guineas at whist, and at ten minutes to eight he opened the door of his house on Savile Row.
By that time, Passepartout, who had already carefully studied the list of his duties and the owner’s daily routine, knew that it was an inopportune time for his return, so he did not respond when Phileas Fogg called him.
- Passepartout! - repeated Mr. Fogg.
This time the servant appeared.
“I’m calling you for the second time,” the owner remarked coldly.
“But it’s not midnight yet,” the young man objected, looking at his watch.
“You are right,” agreed Phileas Fogg, “so I do not reprimand you.” In ten minutes we will leave for Dover - we will take a trip around the world.
Passepartout was horrified.
- Trip around the world?
- Yes, and in eighty days, so there’s not a minute to lose. We will only take a travel bag, a pair of shirts and three pairs of socks. We will buy all the necessary clothes along the way. Now hurry up!
While Passepartout was packing, Mr. Fogg went to the safe, took out twenty thousand pounds sterling in bank notes and hid it in his bag.
Soon, having securely locked the house, together with the servant they went in a cab to the station, where they bought two tickets to Paris.
At eight forty Phileas Fogg and his servant were already seated in the first class compartment. Five minutes later the whistle blew and the train started moving. The journey around the world has begun.
The detective is on the trail
The first leg of the journey went quite smoothly. Exactly a week after his departure from London, Phileas Fogg arrived in Suez on the ship Mongolia, but then something unexpected awaited him. A thin, short man was walking back and forth along the embankment. It was Mr. Fix, one of the many English police agents who were sent to the port cities of the world in search of a bank thief.
Mr. Fix was to watch all passengers passing through Suez, and not let a person out of sight if he aroused his suspicions. The detective's zeal increased the large reward promised by the Bank of England. Mr. Fix had little doubt that the attacker had arrived at Suez on the Mongolia. Meanwhile, the embankment was filled with a large crowd. Porters, merchants, sailors different nationalities, the fellahs were jostling around waiting for the steamer to arrive. Finally, the ship moored to the shore and the ladder was lowered.
There were an unusually large number of passengers on the ship, but no matter how closely Detective Fix looked at the faces, no one even came close to the description of the bank thief. Shaking his head in disappointment, Fix was about to leave the port when one of the passengers made his way through the crowd - it was Passepartout - and said politely:
- Excuse me, sir, do you know how to get to the British consulate? I need to put a visa on this passport.
The detective took the document in his hands and, glancing quickly at the photo of the owner, even shuddered in surprise: the appearance of the Englishman who arrived on the ship exactly matched the description of the bank thief!
– This isn’t your passport, is it? - he asked Passepartout.
“No,” answered the Frenchman. “It belongs to my master, but he did not want to go ashore.”
Fix quickly figured out what to say:
“This gentleman needs to come to the consulate himself to verify his identity.”
-Where is it located? – asked Passepartout.
- Over there, on the corner of the square.
- It's clear. Well, I'll go get the owner. I'm just afraid that he won't like this kind of red tape.
The servant returned to the ship, and Fix hurried to see the consul and declared right from the threshold of the office:
“Sir, I have every reason to believe that the attacker who stole fifty thousand pounds sterling from the Bank of England is on board the Mongolia.” He'll be here any minute to get a visa stamped on his passport. I would ask you to refuse him.
– How can I explain this? – asked the consul. – If he has a real passport, I have no right to refuse him a visa.
- Sir, don't you understand? - the detective exclaimed. “I need to detain this man in Suez until a warrant for his arrest arrives from London.”
- It doesn't concern me, Mr. Fix. I can't…
The consul did not have time to finish: there was a knock on the door of his office, and the secretary brought in Mr. Fogg and Passepartout.
Phileas Fogg handed the consul his passport and explained that he needed confirmation of his passage through Suez. The consul carefully examined the document and, making sure that everything was in order, signed, dated and stamped it. Mr. Fogg bowed coldly and left.
As soon as the door closed, the detective handed the consul a piece of paper with signs.
– Here, read the description of the alleged thief. Don't you think this Mr. Fogg fits him perfectly?
“Yes, apparently,” the consul was forced to admit. – But you know that all such descriptions...
“I’ll check everything,” Fix interrupted him impatiently. “I’ll try to get his servant to talk.”
He found the passe-partout on the embankment.
- Well, my friend, everything is in order with your passports now, and you decided to take a walk around the city?
“Yes,” answered the Frenchman. – Actually, I need to buy some things. We did not take any luggage with us, only one suitcase.
- So you left London suddenly?
- How suddenly!
“But where is your master going?”
- He must travel around the world. And in eighty days! According to him, this is a bet, but, to be honest, I don’t believe it: there is something else hidden here.
“Ah, that’s it,” Fix muttered. - Mr. Fogg must be very rich?
- Like Croesus! He took with him a huge amount, all in new bank notes, and does not save them too much. For example, he promised a generous reward to the captain of the Mongolia if we arrived in Bombay ahead of schedule!
The detective's soul rejoiced: without a doubt, Phileas Fogg was the same bank thief. A hasty departure from London almost immediately after the theft, large sum cash on him, an impatient desire to be as far away from London as possible, an implausible story about some kind of bet - all this undoubtedly confirmed the detective’s suspicions.
Leaving Passepartout at the market where the Frenchman was shopping, Fix hurried to the telegraph office and sent the following dispatch to Scotland Yard:
Passepartout's gaffe
The news of the bet made by Phileas Fogg caused a real sensation in London. That's all everyone was talking about. Some admitted the possibility of Mr. Fogg's success, but most considered this idea crazy: after all, in the event of even a slight delay, Mr. Fogg would lose all his money. In the midst of the controversy, a telegram from Fix arrived from Suez. The effect was no less sensational. In everyone's opinion, Phileas Fogg instantly changed from a respectable gentleman into a cunning and treacherous bank thief.
Meanwhile, "Mongolia" rushed at full speed along the waves of the Red Sea towards Aden. Phileas Fogg did not pay attention to the stormy weather, and he did not even notice how detective Fix hurriedly boarded the ship just before sailing from Suez.
The next day, Passepartout, noticing Fix on deck, was so delighted to meet this kind man that he exclaimed:
-Who do I see! Mister Fix! Are you going far?
“Alas,” the young man sighed. - I'm afraid not.
Fix hoped that Mongolia would arrive in Bombay late, but he was disappointed. On Saturday, October 20, at half past five in the afternoon, the ship entered the port of Bombay - two days ahead of schedule.
Mr. Fogg paid the captain the promised reward, methodically wrote down these two days in the winnings column in his travel notebook and went ashore.
“The train to Calcutta leaves at eight o’clock in the evening,” he told the servant. - Meet me at the station. Please don't be late!
Fix overheard his words and realized that he must at all costs detain the bank thief in Bombay until a warrant for his arrest comes from England. At the Bombay police, a detective asked the commissioner to issue a warrant for the arrest of Phileas Fogg, but he just shook his head:
“I’m very sorry, but this is impossible: we have no right to interfere in the sphere of competence of London.” Now, if the crime had been committed on Indian territory, then the matter would be different.
While Fix was wondering what to do, Passepartout was looking around the city. Unlike his master, who did not show the slightest interest in the places they were passing through, the servant eagerly looked at everything and tried not to miss anything.
The streets of Bombay were unusually crowded. With his mouth open, the young Frenchman goggled at the Persians in pointed hats, at the Banian traders in round turbans, at the Parsis in black miters, at the Armenians in long-skirted clothes that reached to the toes. He had never seen anything like this before and was so carried away that he almost forgot about the time. Then he still went to the station, but suddenly he saw the magnificent Malabar Hill Temple, and he definitely wanted to go there. Alas, Passepartout did not know that one could not enter the temple wearing shoes; they were supposed to be removed before entering, just as he did not know that the British authorities severely punished anyone who insulted religious feelings residents of India. In a word, without any bad thoughts, he entered the temple, admired its magnificent ornaments, but suddenly found himself on the floor. Three angry priests tore off his shoes and socks and began to beat him, but Passepartout was a clever fellow. Fighting back with fists and kicks, he escaped from the hands of the Indians and ran away.
Meanwhile, detective Fix was watching him all the time, so he went to the station. There were five minutes left before the train departed when the barefoot Passepartout jumped onto the platform and told Mr. Fogg about his misadventures.
“I hope this won’t happen again,” said Mr. Fogg coldly and, accompanied by a despondent servant, entered the carriage.
Fix, who heard every word, rejoiced:
- So-so! The crime was committed on Indian territory! Now I can issue an arrest warrant. In Calcutta the police will have it before this scoundrel even gets there.
Satisfied with himself, he again hurried to the local police commissioner.
Jungle Adventure
Entering the compartment, Phileas Fogg and Passepartout were surprised to find that their traveling companion was Sir Francis Cromarty, the brigadier general who had been Mr. Fogg's whist partner when they sailed on the Mongolia. Mr. Fogg even made a whole speech of several sentences, expressing his joy.
They drove that night and the entire next day without incident.
On both sides of the railway, steep mountain slopes rose to the heavens. Then they were replaced by a dense jungle with snakes teeming in it. At times, to Passepartout's delight, elephants could be seen near the tracks.
The next morning, their train suddenly stopped near a small village, and the chief conductor walked through the cars, shouting:
- Passengers, get out!
- What's happened? What's the matter? asked Sir Francis.
“But the newspapers wrote that the entire road from Bombay to Calcutta was completed,” Sir Francis got angry.
The conductor didn’t blink an eye:
- The newspapers were wrong.
Passepartout clenched his fists.
“Don’t worry,” Mr. Fogg said calmly. “I have two days left, so we can afford this little delay.” The ship to Hong Kong leaves Calcutta at noon on the twenty-fifth. Today is only the twenty-second. We will manage to arrive on time. But in this moment we need to somehow get to Allahabad.
Having reached the village, Sir Francis, Phileas Fogg and Passepartout found that all the means of transportation that were possible had already been dismantled by other passengers.
“Well, we’ll have to walk,” said Phileas Fogg.
The Frenchman, who was sorry to wear out new shoes, suggested:
– Why don’t we ride an elephant?
Everyone liked the idea. In the village they found a good animal, and the owner, after long negotiations, sold it to Mr. Fogg for such a huge sum that Passepartout even doubted whether his master was of sound mind. They found a guide quickly - the young Parsee himself volunteered to show them the way. After this, the four men mounted the elephant - Mr. Fogg and the General in the baskets, and Passepartout and the Parsee simply on the back - and set off, swaying uncomfortably from side to side. By evening they had made it halfway and spent the night in a ramshackle hut in the jungle. Passepartout tossed and turned restlessly all night, and Phileas Fogg slept soundly and serenely, as if in his bed on Savile Row. In the morning they continued their journey.
“We will arrive in Allahabad by evening,” said Sir Francis.
At four o'clock in the afternoon they heard loud voices. The Parsi immediately jumped to the ground and led the elephant off the path into the thicket, explaining:
- This is a procession of Brahmins: they are heading in our direction, and it is better not to show themselves to their eyes.
From their hiding place, the travelers saw a strange procession. Priests in gold-embroidered robes walked ahead, followed by a crowd of men, women and children. A mournful funeral chant sounded. Following the crowd on a cart pulled by zebu bulls was a giant four-armed statue.
“This is Kali,” Sir Francis whispered. – Goddess of love and death.
Behind the statue, several Brahmins were holding a young woman by the arms. beautiful woman, who could hardly move her legs. Behind them, four young guards carried a palanquin on their shoulders, in which lay a dead old man in the luxurious robes of a raj and a turban decorated with gems. Musicians and fakirs brought up the rear of the procession with wild shouts and dancing.
“This is the widow of an Indian Rajah,” Sir Francis said sadly as the procession departed. “She will be burned early in the morning on a funeral pyre along with her husband.”
- Burned alive? - Passepartout exclaimed in horror.
“Yes, but this time it will not happen voluntarily,” the Parsee noted, turning to Sir Francis.
“But the poor woman doesn’t resist at all.”
“Because she was given opium and hashish,” the guide explained.
- So you know her? asked Sir Francis.
- Yes, her name is Auda. She is the daughter of a wealthy merchant from Bombay and received an excellent English upbringing. Her parents died and she was married against her will to the old Rajah. Once she even tried to escape, knowing what a terrible fate awaited her, but she was caught, and now no one dares to help her. The sacrifice will take place tomorrow at dawn, near the Pillaji Temple.
“I still have twenty hours left,” Phileas Fogg said unexpectedly. “We must try to save this woman.”
Passepartout enthusiastically supported him. “After all, at my master’s kind heart", he said to himself. Sir Francis also expressed his readiness to participate in this operation. The Parsi guide also agreed to go with them.
“We have no illusions about this,” replied Mr. Fogg. “In any case, I think we need to wait until night and then act.” For now, let's move closer to the temple.
They carefully crept up to Pillaji and hid in the jungle, and when it got dark, they went to investigate. A funeral pyre was prepared near the temple, where the embalmed body of the rajah already lay. At dawn, a young widow will be brought here, forced to lie next to her elderly husband and a fire will be lit... All four men shuddered at the thought of such a terrible death.
Past the Indians sleeping on the ground, they reached almost the very entrance, but, to their disappointment, the temple was guarded by fierce guards - they walked in front of the gates with drawn sabers, sparkling ominously in the light of the torches.
“It is impossible to enter the temple through the door,” said Mr. Fogg. - Let's try to get in differently. Maybe from the rear?
But all hopes were dashed when they saw the blank back wall of the temple without windows or doors.
“All our efforts are pointless,” Sir Francis said sadly. “We still won’t be able to do anything.”
All four hid in the thickets, almost desperate to change anything, but Passepartout suddenly had an idea. Without saying a word, he quietly left.
At dawn, Mr. Fogg and his companions again heard mournful singing and the roar of drums: the hour of sacrifice was approaching. The doors of the temple opened wide. With a bright light pouring from within, Phileas Fogg saw a beautiful widow. Despite her condition, she struggled from the hands of the Brahmins, but two priests, grabbing her tightly, dragged her to the funeral pyre. The crowd's screams intensified. As Mr. Fogg and Sir Francis followed the procession, the general noticed that his companion was clutching a knife in his hand.
In the pre-dawn twilight they saw that the widow was already lying unconscious near the corpse of the rajah. A burning torch was brought to the fire: dry branches soaked in oil instantly flared up, and thick clouds of black smoke floated into the sky.
Phileas Fogg rushed forward, but Sir Francis and the Parsee, although with great difficulty, held him back. It is complete recklessness to do anything, and yet Phileas Fogg escaped from their hands and was about to rush to the fire, when suddenly cries of horror were heard from the crowd.
- Raja has come to life!
Mr. Fogg was dumbfounded with surprise. Among the smoke and fire, a man in a turban stood on a funeral pyre and held a woman in his arms. Then the Raja walked majestically through the crowd, and everyone prostrated before him in horror. Passing by Sir Francis and Mr. Fogg, the Rajah, maintaining an authoritative expression on his face, hissed.
The popular adventure novel by Jules Verne was written in 1872 and immediately gained great fame in the literary world.
The main characters of the novel are the Englishman Phileas Fogg and his servant Passepartout.
The narrative begins with a bet between Fogg and his club mates. The essence of the bet is that the Englishman will be able to travel around the world, which will last no more than 80 days, using the transport available at that time. The road is shared with the eccentric Englishman by his reliable servant. The road lies towards the east.
Simultaneously with the start of the trip around the world, a daring robbery occurs in England. Police inspector Fix suspects Fogg of robbery and rushes after the travelers.
Thus, on the way to Fogg and his servant, in addition to natural phenomena And different adventures, Mr. Fix is causing a lot of trouble.
The investigator is cunning and treacherous. Considering our main characters to be villains, he tries to gain their trust and tries to make friends with Passepartout, who, together with his master, are on their way to Bombay on a ship.
The next point of travel, according to the heroes’ plan, should be Calcutta. But it is impossible to travel by rail due to faulty tracks. Friends ride on elephants. The journey is not without dangers and adventures. In the jungle, Fogg and Passepartout save the girl Auda from imminent terrible reprisal. She should be burned along with her late husband. Passepartout finds a cunning way out of a dangerous situation, but everyone has to flee.
Do not forget about Fix, who follows on the heels of brave travelers and every time strives to put them in prison. But, thanks to the wisdom and intelligence of Mr. Fogg, the friends manage to move on, despite all the difficulties. Our company still has a visit to fabulous Singapore, unknown China and amazing Japan ahead.
From Japan, our heroes head to San Francisco, from which they need to get to New York. Travel around North America also happens with a huge number of dangerous and curious adventures. On the way there are herds of bison that block the road, in one of the states the train is attacked by Indians, there is a destroyed bridge and Mormons. Finally, the heroes get to New York, but the ship to Europe has already left. Again Fogg's ingenuity comes to the rescue and the journey continues on a wheeled ship. Adventures and surprises also continue, because of which Fogg and Passepartout had to visit Dublin and still get to Liverpool. But Fix is already here and takes Fogg into custody. Fortunately, justice has triumphed - the thief was recently detained in England.
Friends come to London, but they are only one day late, which means the bet is lost. Fogg is almost ruined, but during the journey he and Auda fall in love with each other. Having invited a church official to officiate at the wedding, the friends realize that the day has been won by moving towards the sun - and this is a victory in the bet.
Fogg and Auda got married. Fogg wins the bet and finds love, and the winnings are divided between the faithful servant and the policeman.
Picture or drawing Around the world in 80 days
Other retellings for the reader's diary
- Summary of the fairy tale About rejuvenating apples and living water
In a distant kingdom there lived a king with three sons: Fyodor, Vasily and Ivan. The king grew old and began to see poorly. But he still heard well. Rumor reached him about a marvelous garden with apples that restore youth to a person
Around the world in a couple of chapters
About the Book and travels around the world
In 1872, the French newspaper Le Tan informed readers that a certain Mr. Phileas Fogg had made a bet: he would travel around the globe in 80 days. I kindly agreed to cover his adventures popular writer Jules Verne. And the newspaper's circulation began to grow from issue to issue.
Jules Verne
The impetus for writing the book was rapid and merciless progress. In 1869, construction of the Pacific transcontinental railroad was completed (it connected the eastern and West Coast USA), the Suez Canal was opened (the route from the Mediterranean Sea to Indian Ocean), in 1870 they were connected into a single network railways India, and in 1871 the Frejus Tunnel (aka Mont Cenis) was built through the Alps. Now everything is possible.
Jules Verne was not the first. Before him, Edmond Ploshko published travel essay“Around the World in 120 Days” (1871), and before that Vivien de Saint-Martin wrote an article about a possible trip in 80 days. Jules Verne was not the first. He simply became the best.
This was not any hoax. On December 22, the newspaper announced that Mr. Fogg had won the bet. Those who wanted to believe in the reality of the famous Englishman were not forbidden to do so. Jules Verne and the striated geographic Maps knew how this difficult journey went. At the desk.
And then there was a telegram. 17 years later, in 1889. For the famous science fiction writer. A certain Bly argues with Mr. Fogg himself. True, it starts from New York. And he’ll also make a detour to Amiens to shake the writer’s hand.
It is not known who betrayed his soul—Jules Verne or the chroniclers—but there is a legend that the author of The Sensational One was waiting to see the brutal adventurer. But the science fiction writer must have read the newspapers: Nellie Bly, a fragile girl and scandalous journalist, ventured on a trip around the world.
Around the world - record
Elizabeth Cochrane's (the girl's real name) luggage included only a suitcase, two rugs and a Bank of England checkbook - then their checks were accepted for payment in any part of the world. No change of dress, no umbrella or extra shoes. Lack of proficiency in any language other than English. Along the way, she refused to get married three times, and her main obstacle was waiting for ships and train delays.
Nlly Bly
In the meantime, work was being done on this horse biggest bets. Several publications launched their travelers, competitors tried to remove Nellie from the race, sensations and scandalous revelations were published. But the record was still set: after 72 days, 6 hours, 10 minutes and 11 seconds, the journalist returned to New York to the applause of a crowd of seven thousand. She spent exactly 58 days on the “ride” itself.
And the newspaper "The World" spent eight thousand dollars on the adventure itself with an extreme race, where five thousand was Miss Bly's fee. The idea paid off in full: unprecedented circulation, reprints, numerous reprints and 800 thousand numbers for lottery participants. The winner with the closest score to real time won an all-expenses-paid trip to Europe and $500 in souvenirs.
During Jules Verne's lifetime, Around the World in 80 Days became the author's best-selling work. Performances were staged based on the plot, other writers imitated the idea, and adventurers took credit for Fogg’s exploits. But the implementation of such an example excited the minds of not only travelers, but also the general public. In 1993, a challenge “Jules Verne prize” appeared - for the fastest trip around the world, accomplished under sail and without outside help. In 2012, the winner was the crew of the trimaran Banque Populaire, who spent 45 days, 13 hours, 42 minutes and 53 seconds on the ferry.
Travel around the Earth for a time continues today. They were carried out on foot, on a bicycle, on a motorcycle, on horseback... Possible and impossible obstacles and conditions were overcome. They try to make an international journalistic sensation out of each “race”.
But from all this heroic madness, only one thing is clear: there is no question of any sightseeing. All you will remember is the continuous race, nerves due to being late and not the most comfortable conditions. And in next year some enthusiast will cross your name out of the round-the-world hit parade. Therefore, I would like to ask: gentlemen, do you need it?
Jules Verne
Around the world in eighty days
CHAPTER FIRST,
where a mutual agreement is concluded according to which Passepartout enters the service of Phileas FoggAt number seven Saville Row, Burlington Gardens, the same house where Sheridan died in 1814, Phileas Fogg, Esq., resided in 1872; although this man tried his best not to attract attention to himself, he was considered one of the most original and remarkable members of the London Reform Club.
Thus, one of the most famous orators who graced England with his talent was replaced by the aforementioned Phileas Fogg, a mysterious man, about whom it was only known that he belonged to the highest English society, was well-mannered and extraordinarily handsome.
They said that he resembled Byron (however, only in face; both his legs were healthy), but he was Byron, who wore a mustache and sideburns, an impassive Byron, who could live without aging for a thousand years.
Phileas Fogg was undoubtedly an Englishman, but in all likelihood he was not a native of London. He was never seen either at the stock exchange, or at the bank, or in any of the City offices. Neither the piers nor the docks of London ever accepted a ship that belonged to the shipowner Phileas Fogg. This gentleman's name did not appear on the list of members of any government committee. It was also not listed either at the bar or at the corporations of lawyers - one of the “inns” - Temple, Lincoln or Gray. He never spoke either in the Court of Chancery, or in the Court of King's Bench, or in the Chess Chamber, or in the Church Court. He was neither an industrialist, nor a merchant, nor a merchant, nor a landowner. He had no connection with either the British Royal Society, the London Institute, or the Institute applied arts”, nor to the “Russell Institute”, nor to the “Institute of Western Literatures”, nor to the “Institute of Law”, nor, finally, to the “Institute of Arts and Sciences”, which is under the high patronage of Her Majesty the Queen. He also did not belong to any of those numerous societies that are so common in the capital of England, from the Musical Society to the Entomological Society, founded mainly for the purpose of exterminating harmful insects.
Phileas Fogg was a member of the Reform Club, and nothing more.
Anyone who wonders how this so mysterious gentleman came to be a member of such a venerable association must answer: “He was chosen on the recommendation of the Baring brothers, with whom a checking account was opened for him.” This circumstance and the fact that his checks were promptly cleared gave him weight in society.
Was Phileas Fogg rich? Without a doubt. But how did he make his fortune? Even the most knowledgeable people could not answer this question, and Mr. Fogg was the last person to whom it would be appropriate to turn for such information. He was not distinguished by extravagance, but in any case he was not stingy, for when money was needed to carry out any noble, generous or useful undertaking, he, silently and usually hiding his name, came to the rescue.
In a word, it was difficult to imagine a less sociable person. He spoke only as much as was necessary, and the more silent he was, the more mysterious he seemed. Meanwhile, his life passed in front of everyone; but he did the same thing day after day with such mathematical precision that his unsatisfied imagination involuntarily sought food for itself beyond the boundaries of this visible life.
Has he traveled? Very possible, because no one knew the map better than him globe. There was no point, even a very remote one, about which he did not have the most accurate information. More than once he managed, with the help of a few brief but clear comments, to resolve the endless disputes that were going on in the club about missing or lost travelers. He indicated the most probable outcome of the matter, and the development of subsequent events invariably confirmed his assumptions, as if Phileas Fogg was gifted with the ability of clairvoyance. It seemed that this man had managed to be everywhere, at least mentally.
Meanwhile, it was reliably known that Phileas Fogg had not left London for many years. Those who had the honor of knowing him a little closer claimed that he could only be met on the way from home to the club or back, and nowhere else. Phileas Fogg's time at the club consisted of reading newspapers and playing whist. He often won at this silent game, so suited to his nature, but the winnings never remained in his wallet, but formed a significant share of his donations to charitable causes. It is appropriate to note that Mr. Fogg did not play to win at all. The game for him was a competition, a struggle with difficulties, but a struggle that did not require either movement or change of place, and therefore was not tiring. And this corresponded to his character.
As far as is known, Phileas Fogg was single and childless - which happens even to the most respectable people - and had neither relatives nor friends - which already happens truly rarely. He lived alone in his house on Saville Row, where no one was allowed. His personal life was never a subject of discussion. Only one person served him. He ate breakfast and lunch at the club at precisely set hours, always in the same room and at the same table, without treating his playing partners or inviting any strangers. Exactly at midnight he returned home, never staying overnight in the beautiful comfortable rooms that the Reform Club provides for this purpose to its members. Out of twenty-four hours, he spent ten at home - either in bed or at the toilet. If Phileas Fogg took a walk, he invariably walked with his even steps into the club's reception hall, lined with mosaic parquet, or walked along the circular gallery topped with a blue glass dome resting on twenty Ionic columns of red porphyry. Kitchens, pantries, buffets, fish cages and dairy clubs supplied him with the best provisions for breakfast and lunch; the club footmen - silent, solemn figures in black tailcoats and felt-soled shoes - served him, serving food in special porcelain dishes; the table was covered with delightful Saxon linen, served with antique crystal, intended for sherry, port, or claret infused with cinnamon and cloves; and finally, ice was served at the table - the pride of the club - which gave a pleasant freshness to these drinks: it was delivered to London at great expense directly from the American lakes.
If a person leading such a life is called an eccentric, then it must be admitted that eccentricity is a very pleasant thing!
The house on Saville Row did not shine with luxury, but it was distinguished by complete comfort. Moreover, given the constant habits of the owner, the duties of the servant were simple. However, Phileas Fogg demanded exceptional precision and accuracy from his only servant. It was on that day, October 2, that Phileas Fogg paid off his servant James Forster, who was guilty of bringing his master shaving water heated to eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit instead of eighty-six; and now he was waiting for the new servant, who was to appear between eleven o'clock and half-past eleven in the morning.
Phileas Fogg sat tightly in his chair, his heels pressed together, like a soldier on parade; resting his hands on his knees, straightening up and raising his head, he followed the movement of the hands of the clock standing on the fireplace, which simultaneously showed hours, minutes, seconds, days of the week, days of the month and year. At exactly half-past eleven Mr. Fogg, following his daily habit, was to leave the house and go to the Reform Club.
At that moment there was a knock on the door of the small drawing room where Phileas Fogg was.
The dismissed James Forster appeared.
“New servant,” he reported.
A boy of about thirty entered the room with a bow.
Are you French and your name is John? - asked Phileas Fogg.
“Jean, with your permission,” answered the newcomer, “Jean Passepartout [from the French. - passe partouf, literally - passing everywhere; here - a climber, a dexterous person]. This nickname was given to me a long time ago, and it proves that I am capable of getting out of any difficulty. I consider myself an honest man, sir, but, to tell the truth, I tried many professions. I was a traveling singer, a circus rider, I vaulted like Leotard and danced on a wire like Blondin; then, in order to better use his abilities, he became a gymnastics teacher and, finally, was a senior fireman in Paris. I have several good fires on my record. But it’s been five years since I left France and, in order to taste the delights of home life, I serve in England as a footman. Left without a place and having learned that Mr. Phileas Fogg is the neatest man and the biggest homebody in the United Kingdom, I come here in the hope of living in peace and forgetting that my name is Passepartout...
