The uncertainty of chance is a central force in the plot of Around the World in Eighty Days, as Phileas Fogg, a devout gambler, places a daring £20,000 wager on his ability to complete the dubious feat of circling the globe in eighty days. Both lucky and unlucky situations indiscriminately strike Fogg and his companions throughout their journey. Constantly teetering on the risky line between success and failure in his venture, Fogg receives unrelenting criticism from the public, as well as from people he meets along the way, reflecting his contemporary society’s general aversion toward risk. And yet, his arguably irresponsible willingness to risk his fortune is what facilitates his grand adventure around the world—one that results in excitement, valuable experiences, and meaningful relationships that provide him with a newfound sense of purpose. In showing the myriad benefits that Fogg reaps from trusting in chance, Verne advocates for an adventurous outlook on life and a willingness to embrace risks—not for any specific gain, but (as with Fogg’s endless games of whist) “for the sake of playing.”
As Fogg embarks on his journey, he receives widespread backlash from those around him, reflecting a cultural preference for stability and certainty over risk and adventure. Though at first the public supports Fogg in his venture, an article from the Royal Geographical Society casts doubt on his abilities and causes people throughout England to view his journey around the world as a fool’s errand. Although “England is the world of the betting man,” the public only supports Fogg when they believe the money is in their favor. Sir Francis Cromarty, an acquaintance that Fogg and his servant Jean Passepartout make along the way, also views the trip as foolish, believing that Fogg’s wager is “a useless eccentricity and a lack of sound common sense. In the way the strange gentleman was going on, he would leave the world without having done any good to himself or anybody else.” This attitude negates the unexpected benefits that taking chances can bring about and conforms with Victorian society, which was heavily focused on upholding a stable sense of normalcy and propriety. Even the loyal Passepartout doubts Fogg at first, believing that “a man of sound sense ought not to spend his life jumping from a steamer upon a railway train, and from a railway train upon a steamer again, pretending to make the tour of the world in eighty days!” For those around Fogg, his proclivity for taking chances is a sign of irresponsibility rather than openness to opportunity.
Despite the opinions of others, it seems that “chance has strangely favored” Fogg throughout the venture. Though he faces dangerous challenges and setbacks, these obstacles lead Fogg and his companions on exciting adventures and ultimately allow him to forge new, valuable relationships—an aspect of life he would have never experienced had he not taken a chance on the wager.
Before his trip, Fogg is a notably solitary individual. Sir Francis questions “whether a human heart really beat beneath this cold exterior, and whether Phileas Fogg had any sense of the beauties of nature.” By willingly facing uncertainty on his journey, Fogg is forced to take myriad diversions that bring him in contact with new experiences and people, fostering a rich, rewarding sense of connection that he was missing before the wager. Fogg becomes friends with Sir Francis, as well as the guide who accompanies him throughout India. He also grows closer with Passepartout, who finds that there is a heart, a soul, “under that icy exterior” and comes to love Fogg as his friend. Through his chaotic adventures and willingness to take chances, Fogg fosters loyal connections that far exceed his shallow companionship with his friends at the Reform Club in his everyday life.
Most importantly, Fogg’s willingness to take chances makes his coincidental meeting of Aouda possible and eventually leads to their marriage, which he openly claims is what makes his entire trip around the world worthwhile in the end. Had he not made the wager and continued to take risks throughout his journey, he would not have been thrust into unfamiliar circumstances and united with his newfound friends and wife. Ultimately, Fogg spends £19,000 throughout his trip around the world in eighty days, leaving him with just £1,000 profit when he wins the £20,000 bet. And yet, his risky wager and ongoing willingness to take chances allows the formerly reclusive, solitary Fogg to transcend people’s expectations and gain much more value than monetary wealth: a sense of adventure and human connection.
Chance, Adventure, and Human Connection ThemeTracker
Chance, Adventure, and Human Connection Quotes in Around the World in Eighty Days
Mr. Fogg played, not to win, but for the sake of playing. The game was in his eyes a contest, a struggle with a difficulty, yet a motionless, unwearying struggle, congenial to his tastes.
Phileas Fogg was not known to have either wife or children, which may happen to the most honest people; either relative or near friends, which is certainly more unusual. He lived alone in his house in Saville Row, whither none penetrated…He breakfasted and dined at the club, at hours mathematically fixed, in the same room, at the same table, never taking his meals with other members, much less bringing a guest with him; and went home at exactly midnight, only to retire at once to bed.
“Very curious, very curious,” said Passepartout to himself, on returning to the steamer. “I see that it is by no means useless to travel, if a man wants to see something new.”
But Phileas Fogg, who was not travelling, but only describing a circumference, took no pains to inquire into these subjects; he was a solid body, traversing an orbit around the terrestrial globe, according to the laws of rational mechanics.
“Suppose we save this woman.”
“Save the woman, Mr. Fogg!”
“I have yet twelve hours to spare; I can devote them to that.”
“Why, you are a man of heart!”
“Sometimes,” replied Phileas Fogg, quietly; “when I have the time.”
As for Passepartout, he was ready for anything that might be proposed. His master’s idea charmed him; he perceived a heart, a soul, under that icy exterior. He began to love Phileas Fogg.
“The chance which now seems lost may present itself at the last moment.”
“Mr. Fix,” he stammered, “even should what you say be true—if my master is really the robber you are searching for—which I deny—I have been, am, in his service; I have seen his generosity and goodness; and I will never betray him—not for all the gold in the world. I come from a village where they don’t eat that kind of bread!”
Aouda returned to a waiting-room, and there she waited alone, thinking of the simple and noble generosity, the tranquil courage of Phileas Fogg. He had sacrificed his fortune, and was now risking his life, all without hesitation, from duty, in silence.
Phileas Fogg did not betray the last disappointment; but the situation was a grave one. It was not at New York as at Hong Kong, nor with the captain of the Henrietta as with the captain of the Tankadere. Up to this time money had smoothed away every obstacle. Now money failed.
“I pity you, then, Mr. Fogg, for solitude is a sad thing, with no heart to which to confide your griefs. They say, though, that misery itself, shared by two sympathetic souls, may be borne with patience.”
Phileas Fogg had won his wager, and had made his journey around the world in eighty days. To do this he had employed every means of conveyance—steamers, railways, carriages, yachts, trading vessels, sledges, elephants. The eccentric gentleman had throughout displayed all his marvelous qualities of coolness and exactitude. But what then? What had he really gained by all this trouble? What had he brought back from this long and weary journey?
Nothing, say you? Perhaps so; nothing but a charming woman, who, strange as it may appear, made him the happiest of men!
Truly, would you not for less than that make the tour around the world?