James Nicoll Reviews

William Pène du Bois’ 1947 novel The Twenty-One Balloons is a Newbery-award-winning juvenile comedy adventure.

How did Professor William Waterman Sherman, late of San Francisco, end up floating in the North Atlantic on a raft composed of the wreckage of a flotilla of balloons? The question holds 1893 America¹ in thrall!

Sherman’s adventure began simply enough. After retiring from teaching, he desired solitude and rest. He decided to commission a vast balloon, carrying a large well-appointed basket. He planned to spend a year floating aimlessly.

Scarcely had Sherman traversed the Pacific when an unforeseen seagull encounter left his balloon sinking rapidly towards shark-infested waters. Only by discarding the contents of his basket, then the basket, then all of his clothes did Sherman reach the only land within reach, a desolate island.

To his surprise, Sherman is greeted by a fellow American, Mr. F. The American has some astonishing news. Sherman is on Krakatoa, which is not as entirely uninhabited as supposed. Twenty families — eighty people — call Krakatoa home. Now Sherman will call Krakatoa home as well… for he shall never leave.

Why? There’s a diamond mine on Krakatoa. A mine full of many, many diamonds. If they were all mined and sold, the price of diamonds would fall dramatically. The inhabitants of Krakatoa have agreed to mine in moderation and share the lavish proceeds. But if a passing visitor were to reveal the secret, diamond prices would fall, as would their income. They cannot allow Sherman to leave.

Indeed, had the seagulls not punctured Sherman’s balloon, Mr. F would have done so himself to force a landing.

The twenty families are wealthy enough to import almost anything they like. They have abundant leisure time and a knack for invention. As a result their lives are arranged along very curious lines, which the novel lovingly details.

The island would be a very paradise, were it not for the fact that Krakatoa’s famous eruption is only a week away.

I won’t tell you exactly what happens next, just that Sherman escapes with the aid of yet more balloons and ends up floating in the North Atlantic.

~oOo~

I re-read The Twenty-One Balloons because I referenced it in my Seep review [**link later], because it’s short, and because it seemed likely to be something of a comfort read. Certainly more so than the other book I considered, Fahrenheit 451.

I must have bought my copy around 1975, judging by the $1.25 price on the cover. Yes, it’s a bit juvenile for a fourteen-year-old, but back then one read what came to hand. All I remembered was that the book involved balloons, a utopia, laundry, and the island of Krakatoa immediately before the eruption.

Well, some of my memories were correct. There are indeed balloons, Krakatoa is important, laundry is mentioned more detail than usual (which is not at all), but the novel isn’t about a utopia. It’s about what a bunch of rich eccentrics might get up to if they had a lot of time on their hands and money to burn. For example, their laundry method isn’t some sort of socialist innovation that will free laundresses from exploitation. It’s a laborsaving device² for the benefit of rich, lazy people who cannot import servants³.

Because this is a comic novel, not a sincerely imagined utopia, the author reveled in absurdity. The characters may have no sense of humor, but the author does. The book is terribly silly but then it’s meant to be.

The one realistic thing? The effect on price of a vastly increased supply. This may be the first book I ever read that mentioned that. I think of this issue every time someone rattles on about the quadrillions of dollars of platinum to be found in certain asteroids.

This isn’t great literature but it’s at least mildly amusing. I suspect that I won’t be amused by the Bradbury.

The Twenty-One Balloons is available here (Barnes & Noble), here (Bookshop US), here (Bookshop UK), here (Chapters-Indigo), and here (Words Worth Books) but oddly, I did not find it at Penguin, who is the publisher of the edition sold by the booksellers in question.

1: USA delenda est, but not immediately.

2: Basically, it’s the same setup as those incredibly unhygienic hand towel rollers, except in this case it is an incredibly long roll of sheets that feeds through a steam-cleaning machine.

3: Best not to wonder how they import the goods they do import and what happens to the crews on the ships in question. No doubt everything necessary is purchased and delivered by the Krakatoans who venture overseas to sell the diamonds.