Jonathan Swift Finds Nemo
Originally published at 5th Story
Review.
Jonathan Swift sighed,
setting aside his newly published book. It turned out to be wildly
popular, the talk of the town. He’d written it as a travel book,
but soon realized that he had to protect the Houyhnhnms. So, he
changed it to a satire and populated it with thinly-veiled references
to the Whigs. That, people would accept, even find amusing.
When he found the
Houyhnhnm island, he was, as anyone would be, totally surprised at
the discovery of a kind and gentle race of intelligent horses. They
had so impressed him that he knew he must tell others. Alas, he had
promised to never disclose their location, so he was forced into this
fiction using the character Dr. Gulliver as his voice.
Now, he was becoming
restless again. Since the untimely death of Stella, he found that no
distraction could stop his thoughts from always turning to her.
Still, life must go on, and he was eager to explore new vistas. He
decided to go for a walk down to the harbor to see if any interesting
ships had arrived.
Pulling on his heavy cape,
to ward the London fog that descended, he ambled to the wharf and
scanned the ships. His jaw dropped and he stared wide-eyed for a
moment. One of the ships had sides clad in metal–not just strips
used to strengthen and protect the seams, but entirely metal-bound.
He walked rapidly to the side of this phenomenon and noted a man,
apparently the captain, standing on the deck directing sailors in
their tasks.
“Ahoy, Captain of the
ship.”
The ornately-dressed
captain turned his way. His long coat was not entirely nautical in
appearance. It reminded Jonathan of a Rajah’s attire, except
heavily-braided on the shoulders and down the sleeves. “Est-ce
que je peux vous aider?” the Captain asked.
Jonathan delved his memory
for the French he had learned at school. “Parlez-vous Anglais?”
The Captain nodded. “I
do, monsieur. May I help you?”
“May I introduce
myself?” Jonathan placed his hand on his chest. “I am Jonathan
Swift.”
The Captain smiled
broadly. “I have heard of you, Monsieur Swift. I enjoyed your book,
“Gulliver’s Travels.” A most imaginative travel guide. Quite
amusing.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
Jonathan studied the Captains dark face thinking he must have Hindoo
blood in him. He waited for the Captain to introduce himself.
“My name is Captain de
Nemours, Monsieur Swift. My ship is named, as you can see on the
side, the Nautilus.”
“I am curious about your
ship, Captain. It appears to be entirely covered in metal. How does
it float?”
“Ah, advanced
engineering. Not only does it float, but it can also dive under the
surface of the sea. They call it a submarine. A Dutchman built the
first of its kind for James I. Not a very practical model, requiring
oars, but we have made a few improvements in the last hundred years.”
“This ship is fantastic,
Captain de Nemours. It amazes me that I have not heard of this means
of marine transport before.”
“This is the only one of
its kind, Monsieur Swift. I am proud to be the first to command.”
“Is it, then, a French
invention?” Swift looked for a flagstaff, but couldn’t see one.
“I do not see your colours.”
“My crew and I have not
allied the Nautilus to any country. I designed and built this ship
myself.” He scanned the decks of the submarine with a slight smile
on his lips. “We are free adventurers, traveling wherever we will,
whenever we will.”
The two men chatted for a
while longer. Finally, Swift could no longer contain himself. “I
must sail in this ship, Captain de Nemours. Is there any possibility
you could take me as a passenger? I don’t care where we go or for
how long. I’ll pay whatever passage you ask.”
“My most sincere
apologies, Monsieur Swift. I cannot do that. We have, shall we say,
things to do that preclude taking passengers.”
Swift was downcast and
wondered whether to press the point. He decided to wait, perhaps get
to know this Captain better, then he might relent and take him along.
They said their goodbyes, and Swift returned to his home thinking
furiously.
He immediately set pen to
paper, describing the ship and its Captain in as much detail as he
could remember. He intended to write about this ship and wanted to
have accurate notes to go by. He hoped he would have the experience
of actually sailing with the Captain.
Once he had written all
that he could on the brief meeting, he took another piece of paper, a
fine foolscap, and wrote a note to Captain de Nemours, inviting him
to dinner. He called his footman, Ben, and sent him off to the wharf
to deliver the invitation.
Ben soon returned with the
note still in his hand. “I couldn’t find the ship, Master Swift.
I asked around, but nobody seemed to know what I was talking about.”
Swift sighed. He thought
the good Captain regretted all that he had told him and had set sail
to preclude just this type of pressure. He picked up his notes on the
ship, and heaving another sigh, he sadly put them in the bottom
drawer of his desk. “Maybe someday the Nautilus will return.” He
could only hope.
He pulled a few blank
sheets of paper before him and picked up his quill. He had been
working on this essay for a while and really should complete it.
“What shall I title this?” he asked himself, then wrote “A
Modest Proposal” at the top of the page.
* * *
More than one hundred
forty years later, Jules Verne browsed through an antique shop in
Paris. Spotting a desk of English design, he thought it would go
nicely in his library. He bought the desk and gave directions for its
delivery to his home.
Later, he sat at his new
purchase to examine its features. In a lower drawer in the back,
almost hidden from view, he found a set of papers describing a
fantastic ship and a captain named de Nemours.
“Hmm,
this gives me an idea,” he muttered and began to write.
That's a fun little story! Glad you published it here!
ReplyDeleteOne never knows when and from where inspiration will strike!
ReplyDelete