In the Year 2889 by Jules Verne
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In the Year 2889In the Year 2889
by Jules Verne
Editor's Notes by Blake Linton Wilfong
In 1885, James Gordon Bennett, Jr., owner of the New York Herald
(the same man who sent Stanley to Africa to find Livingstone) asked Jules
Verne to write a short story about life in the United States a thousand
years hence. Ironically, the resulting tale was not printed until
1889--and not in the New York Herald.
It is an unusual work in every way. Verne wrote few short stories,
and no others first published in English. In contrast to his conservative,
plodding SF novels, "In the Year 2889" dashes wildly from one fanciful
extrapolation to another. Experts believe Jules' son Michel may have
authored part of the story.
Many of the predictions for the year 2889 have already come true.
Verne's dystopian concept of one man brought to vast power and wealth
through widely distributed intellectual property brings to mind names like
Samuel Newhouse and Bill Gates. There are also glimmerings of later
science fiction themes, including suspended animation and turning the moon
around a la Arthur C. Clarke's Childhood's End (1953).
Of course Verne also made mistakes, and some of his predictions
simply have not come to pass. But give them time: there are nearly nine
centuries left before the year 2889.
Little though they seem to think of it, the people of this 29th century live
continually in fairyland. Surrounded with marvels, they are indifferent to
marvels. To them all seems natural. Could they but appreciate the refinements of
civilization in our day; could they but compare the present with the past, and
recognize the advances we have made! How much fairer they would find our modern
towns, with populations exceeding 10,000,000 souls; steets 300 feet wide, houses
100 feet high; with a constant temperature in all seasons; and lines of aerial
locomotion crossing the sky in all directions! If they could but imagine the
state of things that once existed, when through muddy streets rumbling boxes on
wheels, drawn by horses--yes, horses!--were the only means of conveyance. Think
of the railroads of old, and you will appreciate the pneumatic tubes through
which today we travel at 100 miles an hour. Would not our contemporaries prize
the telephone and telephote more, had they not forgotten the telegraph?
Surprisingly, all these transformations rest on principles perfectly familiar to
our remote ancestors, which they disregarded. Heat, for instance, is as ancient
as man himself; electricity was known 3000 years ago, and steam 1100. Nay, so
early as 10 centuries ago it was known that the differences between the several
chemical and physical forces depend on the mode of vibration of etheric
particles, which is for each specifically different. When at last the kinship of
all these forces was discovered, it is simply astounding that 500 years still
elapsed before men could analyze and describe the distinct modes of vibration
that constitute these differences. Above all, it is amazing that the method of
reproducing these forces directly from one another, and of reproducing one
without the others, should have remained undiscovered till less than a century
ago. Nevertheless, such was the course of events, for it was not till the year
2792 that the famous Oswald Nier made this discovery.
Truly was he a great benefactor of the human race. His admirable discovery led
to many others. Hence is sprung a pleiad of inventors, its brightest star our
great Joseph Jackson. To Jackson we are indebted those wonderful
instruments--the new accumulators. Some of these absorb and condense the living
force contained in the sun's rays; others, the electricity stored in our globe;
others again, energy from whatever source: waterfalls, streams, wind, etc. He,
too, invented the transformer, a more wonderful contrivance still, which takes
the living force from the accumulator, and, at the touch of a button, returns it
to space in any form desired, whether as heat, light, electricity, or mechanical
force, after having first obtained from it the work required. From the day these
two instruments were contrived should be dated the era of true progress. They
have put into the hands of man almost infinite power. As for their applications,
they are numberless. Mitigating the rigors of winter, by giving back to the
atmosphere the surplus heat stored up during the summer, they have
revolutionized agriculture. Supplying motive power for aerial navigation, they
have given to commerce a mighty impetus. To them we are indebted for the
continuous production of electricity without batteries or dynamos, of light
without combustion or incandescence, and for an unfailing supply of mechanical
energy for the needs of industry.
Yes, the accumulator and the transformer have wrought all these wonders. And can
we not to them also trace, indirectly, this latest wonder of all, the great
"Earth Chronicle" building on 253rd Avenue, which was dedicated the other day?
If George Washington Smith, founder of the Manhattan "Chronicle", should come
back to life today, what would he think when told that this place of marble and
gold belongs to his remote descendant, Fritz Napoleon Smith, who, after 30
generations, is owner of the same newpaper that his ancestor established!
For George Washington Smith's newspaper has lived generation after generation,
now passing out of the family, anon coming back to it. When, 200 years ago, the
political center of the United States was transferred from Washington to
Centropolis, the newspaper followed the government and assumed the name of Earth
Chronicle. Unfortunately, it was unable to maintain itself at the high level of
its name. Pressed on all sides by more modern rival journals, it was continually
in danger of collapse. 20 years ago its subscription list contained but a few
hundred thousand names, and then Mr. Fritz Napoleon bought it for a mere trifle,
and originated telephonic journalism.
Everyone is familiar with Fritz Napoleon Smith's system--a system made possible
by the enormous development of telephony during the last hundred years. Instead
of being printed, the Earth Chronicle is every morning spoken to subscribers,
who, from interesting conversations with reporters, statesmen and scientists,
learn the news of the day. Furthermore, each subscriber owns a phonograph, and
to this instrument he leaves the task of gathering the news whenever he happens
not to be in a mood to listen directly himself. As for purchasers of single
copies, they can at a nominal cost learn all that is in the paper of the day at
any of the innumerable phonographs set up nearly everywhere.
Fritz Napoleon Smith's innovation galvanized the old newspaper. In the course of
a few years the number of subscribers grew to 85,000,000 and Smith's wealth went
on growing, till now it reaches the almost unimaginable figure of
$10,000,000,000. This lucky hit has enabled him to erect his new building, a
vast edifice with four facades, each 3250 feet in length, over which proudly
floats the hundred-starred flag of the Union. Thanks to the same lucky hit, he
is today king of newspaperdom; indeed, he would be king of America, too, if
Americans could ever accept a king. You do not believe it? Well, then, look at
the plenipotentiaries of all nations and our own ministers themselves crowding
about his door, entreating his counsels, begging for his approbation, imploring
the aid of his all-powerful organ. Add up the number of scientists and artists
he supports, of inventors under his pay.
Yes, a king is he. And in truth his is a royalty full of burdens. His labors are
incessant, and, doubtless, in earlier times any man would have succumbed under
the overpowering stress Mr. Smith endures. Fortunately for him, thanks to the
progress of hygiene, which, abating all the old sources of disease, has lifted
human life expectancy from 37 up to 52 years, men have stronger constitutions
now than heretofore. The discovery of nutritive air remains in the future, but
in the meantime men today consume food scientifically compounded and prepared,
and breathe an atmosphere free of the microoganisms that once swarmed in it;
hence they live longer than their forefathers and know nothing of the
innumerable ailments of olden times.
Nevertheless, Fritz Napoleon Smith's mode of life may well astonish one. His
iron constitution is taxed to the utmost by the heavy strain upon it. Vain the
attempt to estimate the amount of labor he undergoes; only an example can give
an idea of it. Let us go about with him for one day as he attends to his
multifarious concerns. What day? That matters little; it is the same every day.
Let us take at random September 25th of this present year 2889.
This morning Mr. Fritz Napoleon Smith awakes in very bad humor. His wife left
for France eight days ago; he feels disconsolate. Incredible though it seems, in
the 10 years since their marriage, this is the first time Mrs. Edith Smith, the
professional model, has been so long absent from home; two or three days usually
suffice for her frequent trips to Europe. The first thing Mr. Smith does is
activate his phonotelephote, the wires of which communicate with his Paris
mansion. The telephote! Here is another great triumph of modern science. The
transmission of speech is an old story; the transmission of images by means of
sensitive mirrors connected by wires is a thing but of yesterday. A valuable
invention indeed; Mr. Smith this morning is full of blessings for the inventor,
when by its aid he is able distinctly to see his wife despite her great
distance.
Mrs. Smith, weary after the ball or the visit to the theater the preceding
night, is still abed, though it is near noontime at Paris. She is asleep, her
head sunk in the lace-covered pillows. What? She stirs? Her lips move. She
dreams, perhaps? Yes. She is talking, pronouncing a name--his name--Fritz! The
delightful vision gives a happier turn to Mr. Smith's thoughts. And now, at the
call of imperative duty, he lightheartedly springs from his bed and enters his
mechanical dresser.
Two minutes later the machine deposits him all dressed at the threshold of his
office. The round of journalistic work begins. First he enters the hall of
novelists, a vast apartment crowned with an enormous transparent cupola. In one
corner is a telephone, through which a hundred Earth Chronicle litterateurs in
turn recount to the public in daily installments a hundred novels. Smith
addresses one of these authors awaiting his turn: "Capital! Capital, my dear
fellow, your last story. The scene where the village maid discusses interesting
philosophical problems with her lover shows your acute power of observation.
Never have the ways of country folk been better portrayed. Keep on, my dear
Archibald, keep on! Since yesterday, thanks to you, there is a gain of 5000
subscribers."
"Mr. John Last," he begins again, turning to a new arrival, "I am not as pleased
with your work. Your story is not a picture of life; it lacks the elements of
truth. And why? Simply because you run straight on to the end; because you do
not analyze. Your heroes do this thing or that from this or that motive, which
you assign without ever a thought of dissecting their mental and moral natures.
Our feelings, you must remember, are far more complex. In real life every act is
the result of a hundred thoughts that come and go, and these you must study, one
by one, if you would create a living character. 'But,' you will say, 'in order
to note these fleeting thoughts one must know them, must be able to follow them
in their capricious meanderings.' Why, any child can do that, as you know.
Simply make use of hypnotism, electrical or human, which gives one a twofold
being, setting free the witness-personality so it may see, understand and
remember the reasons which determine the personality that acts. Just study
yourself as you live from day to day, my dear Last. Imitate your associate who I
complimented a moment ago. Let yourself be hypnotized. What's that? You have
tried it already? Not sufficiently, then, not sufficiently!"
Mr. Smith continues his round and enters the reporters' hall. Here 1500
reporters, in their respective places, facing an equal number of telephones, are
communicating to the subscribers the news of the world as gathered during the
night. The organization of this matchless service has often been described.
Besides his telephone, each reporter, as the reader is aware, has in front of
him a set of commutators, which enable him to communicate with any desired
telephotic line. Thus the subscribers not only hear the news but see the
occurrences. When an incident is described that is already past, photographs of
its main features are transmitted with the narrative. And there is no confusion
withal. The reporters' items, just like the different stories and all the other
component parts of the journal, are classified automatically according to an
ingenious system, and reach the hearer in due succession. Furthermore, the
hearers are free to listen only to what interests them. They may at pleasure pay
attention to one editor and ignore another.
Mr. Smith next addresses one of the ten reporters in the astronomical
department--a department still in the embryonic stage, but which will yet play
an important part in journalism.
"Well, Cash, what's the news?"
"We have phototelegrams from Mercury, Venus, and Mars."
"Are those from Mars of any interest?"
"Yes, indeed. There is a revolution in the Central Empire."
"And what of Jupiter?" asks Mr. Smith.
"Nothing as yet. We cannot quite understand their signals. Perhaps ours do not
reach them."
"That's bad," exclaims Mr. Smith, as he hurries away, not in the best of humor,
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