My grandma taught me how to read when I was 4. By the time I was 5 I was
a boring kid reading scientific publications on dinosaurs and wild animals. By
the time I was 6 and in elementary school most people around me had also
learned how to read, so I stopped and, essentially, didn’t open a book until I
was 14.
Because of my long literature-free years, I am now often forced to
embarrassingly catch up on books that I wish I had read in my early teens, like
Michael Strogoff. I half-heartedly read
20.000 Leagues under the Sea when I
was 12 (one of the few books that I was forced to read in that period and,
because of the mood I was in, I think it’s best if I don’t write anything about
how I felt towards Captain Nemo then), I later loved Around the World in 80 Days, but Michael Strogoff was the Jules Verne book that intrigued me the
most (that said, I managed to postpone reading it until now although I had
asked for it as a Christmas present probably 10 years ago).
It was a delightful read despite the fact that, more than Around the World in 80 Days, the novel
is so extremely dated (its national stereotypes, its depiction of women,
nationalism, courage, morality etc.) – but my edition still had the old 19th
century illustrations which made me tingly inside, and I must say I actually
had goosebumps when Michael carries Nadja towards Irkutsk. It was also
interesting to look at how quickly each event was described: with one hit
Michael kills a bear, with one jump he runs away and so on and so forth – all those
actions are described in one quick line, whereas in a 20th century
adventure they would probably last for a few epic pages.
Also, I’ve probably loved the book because it finally gave me an idea of
the geography of some of those mysterious territories in the top-right corner
of the Risk board…
