Not quite what I was expecting . A Journey to the Center of the Earth did not turn out to be quite what I was expecting; I can't say quite why, however, because I'm not entirely certain what those expectations were.  I hadn't read the novel previously, but I thought I knew what it was about.  As a result, I think I was expecting more drama than Verne delivers, or perhaps I simply wanted the book to be more than it is.  Most likely I was conflating Verne's novel with other texts: movie adaptations of the novel itself, for instance, in which considerably more in the way of actual antagonism--as opposed to the perils of nature itself--occurs; or hollow world stories, in which entire societies thrive on the inside of the earth's crust beneath the rays of a sun that lies at the planet's center.  A Journey to the Center of the Earth is neither of these things, of course, and if I underwent any disillusionment, it was purely of my own making.    Understood on its own terms, the novel is, at the very least, interesting, but, truthfully, not much happens.  The narrator's speculations (as well as his fevered dreams during times of travail) suggest a much wilder adventure than actually takes place.  Much of the action involves the trio of explorers stumbling around in caverns and tunnels, and much of the impediment takes the form of hunger, dehydration, or equipment loss.  In fact, as best I can judge, they really don't approach anywhere near the center of the earth, although they do travel quite a distance laterally before resurfacing.    The real joy is the interactions between the characters, primarily the trio of protagonists: the young narrator, his scientist uncle, and their silent, idiosyncratic guide.  The expedition leader is an archetypal nutty professor, whose words and actions seem nonsensical to those not privy to his thought processes; his nephew, the narrator, alternates between sheer wonder at his surroundings, and sheer terror at the likelihood of spending the rest of his short life surrounded by them; Hans, the guide, says almost nothing but performs his duties in an exemplary manner, and insists on being paid weekly rather than all at once, even while under the earth (a square deal, in his eyes).  Their interactions with each other, and with the variety of Icelandic folk they encounter on their way to the volcano which is their means of ingress, are wittily and cleverly depicted.  These character moments are the high point of the novel; one wonders how much of their clever interplay originates with Verne and how much is an invention of the translator (who, in this edition, remains sadly anonymous).  Whether the novel's tone in its English version is added or simply preserved in translation, full marks to whomever this perceptive soul is.    Though one reflexively considers Jules Verne a "science fiction" writer of a primitive sort, this is really more of an adventure tale and, taken as such, it is generally successful.  The adventurers don't explore a strange new world so much as become more intimately acquainted with the world they already know, but if the reader doesn't go in expecting flights of pure fancy, the novel is rather satisfying.    Postscript: I should point out that this review refers to the Signet Classic mass market paperback edition of the novel, which features an afterword by Michael Dirda.  Knowing Amazon, it's possible that this review will surface under several different versions, and without clarity, we have nothing.
Output: POS