It may be difficult for modern readers to imagine having to wait two weeks for each chapter of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, but this is how the story was originally published. The fact that the story was published one chapter at a time also explains why so many chapters have cliff-hanger endings. The characters and plot are doled out, bit by bit, in a conservative yet deliberate way. Verne and Aronnax, the co-storytellers, are both scientists who are enamored of the enigmatic Captain Nemo and all that he represents.

Aronnax is the protagonist and the narrator for forty-five of the forty-six chapters with Part I, Chapter I told omnisciently. Aronnax begins writing his manuscript while on the Nautilus, and his writing will become the novel that is still read today. Captain Nemo is the antagonist who first saves and then imprisons Aronnax, his servant, Conseil, and the Canadian harpooner Ned Land. Thus, the novel’s main conflict is between these two main characters. The event that sets this conflict into motion is the Nautilus’s strike upon the Scotia in Part I, Chapter I. With that incident, social attitudes toward the monster/machine shift from curiosity to fear. Although no one was injured in the strike, the passengers were put in great danger, saved by the engineering of the vessel. The “torrent of public opinion” turns against the monster, and soon Captain Farragut is commissioned to chase and find the source of the damage. When Farragut invites Aronnax to join the mission, the plot is set into motion.

Like the Nautilus, the novel’s plot proceeds at an inconsistent pace, sometimes lolling in calm waters or even aground in sand or ice, other times barreling forward at high speed. The story occurs in under a year, beginning in July 1866 and ending in May 1867, a span a bit shorter than the novel’s serialization from March 1869 to June 1870. Although Aronnax tells the story after it happens, much of it has the tone of a journal or diary, especially in the specificity of its detail and immediacy of its tone. A lot of the telling is pedantic exposition, as if Aronnax or Nemo is delivering a lecture about fish, plants, engines, breathing apparatus, or water pressure, typically the content of nonfiction rather than novels. In addition, the novel is mainly dialogue among the four main characters—Nemo, Aronnax, Conseil, and Land—revealing their personalities and priorities. These three storytelling strategies weave into a narrative that offers something for every reader’s taste.

The resolution of both the main conflict and the novel itself is fuzzy at best, and Verne’s ending is ambiguous. Perhaps he was paving the way for his novel The Mysterious Island, in which Nemo plays a major role and readers learn his history. The final chapter, “Conclusion,” is abrupt and feels tacked on, like an afterthought. Readers do not know what will happen to any of the four main characters or the Nautilus, which is nearly personified into a fifth character. Verne may have been signaling to his devoted readers, “Stay tuned: More to come!” If this was his intention, he succeeded.

In 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Nemo is clearly the antagonist in the beginning when he captures the three men and sets the terms of their confinement. However, Nemo soon befriends and wins the trust of the protagonist, Aronnax, as they exchange information and share intimate experiences. This narrative trick may lead readers to wonder if theirs really is the main conflict of the novel. Perhaps it is Nature who is the antagonist. Perhaps it’s Fate. Perhaps the conflict is internal: Aronnax versus his own fears. Perhaps Land is the antagonist, readers may think when Ned gets angry. However, in the end, Nemo rears his head as the antagonist, and the main conflict is again clear. Surprisingly, while the three captives find freedom, Nemo’s conflict is not quite resolved.

Verne’s intended resolution may be a lack of resolution. Like science, a narrative may always be moving forward without resolution at all. It moves forward by asking more questions, gathering more data, and seeing new parts of the world. Like the Nautilus, stories are timeless and infinite. Progress is achieved, but there is no endpoint, no closure, and no outcome.