From the beginning of the novel, Verne makes it clear that Ned Land is known for his perfect vision—this is what makes him such a successful harpooner. Ned’s eyesight is, in fact, a metaphor for how Ned is able to “see” more clearly than Aronnax (and Conseil). While Aronnax becomes enraptured with Captain Nemo and his technological prowess (and Conseil remains hopelessly devoted to Aronnax), Ned is able to see that they are being held captive by a violent and emotionally unstable captor.
In Part 1, Chapter 6—while the men are still searching for the mysterious sea creature—Aronnax establishes that Ned is known for having good eyesight:
The darkness was then profound, and, however good the Canadian’s eyes were, I asked myself how he had managed to see, and what he had been able to see. My heart beat as if it would break. But Ned Land was not mistaken, and we all perceived the object he pointed to.
Ned’s ability to see even in the dark returns in a more metaphorical way in Part 1, Chapter 14 after the men are captured by Captain Nemo. In this passage, Aronnax tries to convince Ned to “accept the situation forced upon us”—that they are lucky to be aboard the Nautilus—while Ned can see that they are in “an iron prison:”
“This ship is a masterpiece of modern industry, and I should be sorry not to have seen it. Many people would accept the situation forced upon us, if only to move amongst such wonders. So be quiet and let us try and see what passes around us.”
“See!” exclaimed the harpooner, “but we can see nothing in this iron prison! We are walking—we are sailing—blindly.”
Ned Land had scarcely pronounced these words when all was suddenly darkness. The luminous ceiling was gone, and so rapidly that my eyes received a painful impression.
The fact that Ned communicates directly about vision here is also significant. He can see that they are sailing “blindly” and the story itself seems to side with him, plunging the men into darkness. Aronnax’s eyes also start to hurt, possibly another attempt of Verne’s at showing how, unlike Ned, he is not able to "see" the truth of their situation.
From the beginning of the novel, Verne makes it clear that Ned Land is known for his perfect vision—this is what makes him such a successful harpooner. Ned’s eyesight is, in fact, a metaphor for how Ned is able to “see” more clearly than Aronnax (and Conseil). While Aronnax becomes enraptured with Captain Nemo and his technological prowess (and Conseil remains hopelessly devoted to Aronnax), Ned is able to see that they are being held captive by a violent and emotionally unstable captor.
In Part 1, Chapter 6—while the men are still searching for the mysterious sea creature—Aronnax establishes that Ned is known for having good eyesight:
The darkness was then profound, and, however good the Canadian’s eyes were, I asked myself how he had managed to see, and what he had been able to see. My heart beat as if it would break. But Ned Land was not mistaken, and we all perceived the object he pointed to.
Ned’s ability to see even in the dark returns in a more metaphorical way in Part 1, Chapter 14 after the men are captured by Captain Nemo. In this passage, Aronnax tries to convince Ned to “accept the situation forced upon us”—that they are lucky to be aboard the Nautilus—while Ned can see that they are in “an iron prison:”
“This ship is a masterpiece of modern industry, and I should be sorry not to have seen it. Many people would accept the situation forced upon us, if only to move amongst such wonders. So be quiet and let us try and see what passes around us.”
“See!” exclaimed the harpooner, “but we can see nothing in this iron prison! We are walking—we are sailing—blindly.”
Ned Land had scarcely pronounced these words when all was suddenly darkness. The luminous ceiling was gone, and so rapidly that my eyes received a painful impression.
The fact that Ned communicates directly about vision here is also significant. He can see that they are sailing “blindly” and the story itself seems to side with him, plunging the men into darkness. Aronnax’s eyes also start to hurt, possibly another attempt of Verne’s at showing how, unlike Ned, he is not able to "see" the truth of their situation.
The rubber suits and copper helmets that Captain Nemo, Aronnax, Ned, and Conseil use to explore the underwater forests of Crespo are a metaphor for both the beauty and limits of technology. The men can breathe underwater and see nature as they never have before, but, at the same time, are limited by the bulkiness of their diving suits—they will never be close enough to touch, smell, feel, or hear the flora and fauna of the ocean.
Before venturing into the underwater forests, Aronnax describes the way that the suit feels somewhat suffocating:
Soon we were enveloped to the throat in india-rubber clothing; the air apparatus fixed to our backs by braces […] Then, following the Captain’s example, I allowed myself to be dressed in the heavy copper helmet.
Language like “enveloped,” “fixed,” and “heavy” shows that donning this suit is not a simple experience. It enables Aronnax to witness the beauty of the sea—he notes during their time in the forests that he “saw some of the most brilliant colors” and admired “Nature’s creative power”—but not without constricting himself. This is another example of the limits of human intelligence and the ways that nature refuses to be fully controlled by humans.
Near the end of the novel, Aronnax notices an abandoned electric cable at the bottom of the ocean—a metaphor for the limits of technology:
I did not expect to find the electric cable in its primitive state, such as it was on leaving the manufactory. The long serpent, covered with the remains of shells, bristling with foraminiferae, was encrusted with a strong coating which served as a protection against all boring molluscs. It lay quietly sheltered from the motions of the sea.
As Aronnax explains, despite the best intentions of those who laid the wire (electricians hoping to further telegraph technology), nature kept getting in the way. While the cable is in relatively good shape, shells and sea creatures have adapted to its presence and have rendered it useless. This is one of the many examples in the novel of nature trumping civilization, as well as the limits of human intelligence—no matter how many different attempts the engineers made, nature had the final say.
There is also a metaphor within the metaphor here, seen in the way Aronnax refers to the cable as a “long serpent.” Here again, Verne makes it clear that the cable is firmly part of the sea—it has become part of nature (a sea creature) rather than an extension of technological innovation.
After Captain Nemo’s attack on a boat full of innocent people, Aronnax watches them drown, using a metaphor to compare them to a “human ant-heap”:
The water was rising. The poor creatures were crowding the ratlines, clinging to the masts, struggling under the water. It was a human ant-heap overtaken by the sea. Paralysed, stiffened with anguish, my hair standing on end, with eyes wide open, panting, without breath, and without voice, I too was watching!
This metaphor is extremely evocative and helps readers understand how many people Nemo has just killed. This is not just one or two people, but an entire “ant-heap” made up of “poor creatures” clinging to whatever they can find. Verne’s use of imagery here—including descriptions of how Aronnax’s hair was “standing on end” and how he was “panting, without breath”—adds to the climactic devastation of this moment.
This passage says something important about the limits of human intelligence—despite the fact that Nemo is a genius, he is not necessarily moral and acts more from pain and emotionality than from reason. That he can kill so many people without any remorse shows that he is not the rational, stable person (or friend) that Aronnax believed him to be.
