The Swiss Family Robinson

Name: The Swiss Family Robinson
Rating: 3.5 (837 reviews)

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417 pages8 hours

Summary

First published in 1812, Johann David Wyss’s “The Swiss Family Robinson” is a classic story of survival on a deserted tropical island. While en route to Australia, the titular Swiss Family Robinson finds themselves in great peril when their vessel is caught in a violent storm. As the ship breaks apart when it is battered against a reef, the family is abandoned by their crew, who escape without them in the lifeboats. The family, which consists of a mother, father, and their four sons, are left to fend for themselves. Luckily as the storm subsides they see an island in the distance. After salvaging a plethora of food, livestock, and other supplies they fashion a crude raft from the wreckage and make their way for the island. Every day on the island brings a new adventure and a new obstacle to overcome, as the family struggles to survive in a foreign land isolated from society. Johann David Wyss, a Swiss pastor, wrote this tale of adventure not only to entertain but to instruct, specifically his four sons, in the ways of good family values and the virtue of self-reliance. This exciting adventure has been loved for generations by readers both young and old. This edition includes an introduction by Charles Nodier.

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Publisher: Digireads.com PublishingReleased: Jan 1, 2017ISBN: 9781420952476Format: book

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The Swiss Family Robinson - Johann David Wyss

THE SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON

By JOHANN DAVID WYSS

Introduction by CHARLES NODIER

The Swiss Family Robinson

By Johann David Wyss

Introduction by Charles Nodier

Print ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-5246-9

eBook ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-5247-6

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Cover Image: Bringing home the monkey, English School, (19th century) (after) / Private Collection / © Look and Learn / Bridgeman Images.

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CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Introduction

FROM THE FRENCH OF CHARLES NODIER.

To Daniel Defoe, one day, a great thought came; the idea occurred to him of surrounding a man with all those conditions most dreaded by humanity: necessity, peril, and, before all, solitude. He resolved that his hero, in this desperate state of misery and abandonment, should have but two auxiliaries: the moral courage which never quails, and that proverbial providence of the unfortunate which helps those who help themselves. He resolved to show how much might be accomplished by the natural instinct of self-preservation, the patience of a resolute and energetic character, and, finally, by that faculty of resignation which is patience exalted into the rank of Christian virtues.

The English Robinson Crusoe{1} is the inimitable type of Man in Solitude, and I can easily understand how powerfully it would have affected the morose and melancholy imagination of Rousseau.{2} The type, however, is truly religious, truly moral, truly social; and this last quality is as precious as it is extraordinary in a personage whom misfortune reduces to the most absolute isolation. Of the three chief duties of an intelligent creature towards God, towards himself, towards the creatures which resemble him, Robinson Crusoe discharged the first two with admirable and touching fervour; he is tormented by the need of fulfilling the third, and as quickly as he may he does fulfil it, for he wanted but a neighbour to prove that he could love him. When, however, this conjuncture takes place, the dramatic interest of the story is at an end. Robinson Crusoe has his fields, his plantations, his houses, his kingdom. The new-comers will be his workmen, his servants, his tenants, his subjects. The dearest necessities of the heart, nevertheless, are forgotten in Defoe’s immortal work; you nowhere hear the consoling voice of woman, or the delightful prattle of children; you love nobody, not even Crusoe; the sympathy which attracts you to him throughout his heroic struggle with destiny is not the result of any tender feeling; it is simply the involuntary reaction of your thought upon yourself; it is that universal instinct of egotism or pity which associates you in imagination with the sufferings you yourself might have undergone.

And would you know up to what point Crusoe has really interested you—how great an abstraction has been produced by the desolate position in which the romancist has placed him? Ask yourself what becomes of him when he quits his island, and admit, frankly, that you have never cared to ascertain. Thus, then, in Daniel Defoe’s great work there occurs an impressive situation, an action full of disquietude and terror which constantly keeps our curiosity on the alert, and a pure and tender morality which strengthens the soul. This is much, it is true, but it is not enough! What are wanting are those tender anxieties, those mutual solicitudes, those alarms, those joys which we can only share with others; what are wanting are, in truth, a father, a wife, and a family.

The Robinson Crusoe of Daniel Defoe is a masterpiece; but it is a cold masterpiece, and it leaves the heart cold, because the solitary unity of the interest rests on a purely exceptional fact; because Crusoe’s misfortune astonishes and grieves more than it touches us; because this man, with his courage that impresses and his intelligence that reassures, is, when we come to analyze him, nothing but a singular and remarkable individuality, removed from all the ties, all the obligations, and all the affections of common life. Crusoe is admirable in his resolution, in his activity, in his ceaseless industry, and we cannot but admire him; only a romance which excites our admiration can never become the book of our heart. We are organized for something greater than the mere defence of our material existence against those dangers which threaten only ourselves. A most precious moral instinct, that which reveals to man all his future, leads him to go in search of his fellows, to love them, to protect them, to defend them, to serve them. There is in our bosom a still deep voice which cries, with the sage in the play of Terentius:—

Homo sum; humani nihil a me alienum puto.

[I am a man, and think nothing human foreign to my sympathies.]

It is not, however, the object of these remarks to raise any spiteful objection against the just renown of the author of Robinson Crusoe. They refer simply to an inevitable inconvenience of his subject, to a fault which was inherent in the very form of his work, and which the episode of Friday—ingenious and pathetic as it is in itself—could not completely get rid of.

Wyss, the author of the book now before us, did not arrogate to himself the merit of the invention—he accepted it, he built upon it, he proclaimed himself an imitator and a copyist of an immortal model; but to imitate, as M. Wyss has done, is even better than to invent; it is to apply a recognized invention to the most important of all possibly useful objects; it is to inspire with a soul this artist’s figure of clay; it is to give life to Pygmalion’s statue. Robinson Crusoe will ever remain a good and a noble book; but the Swiss Robinson merits, perhaps, the first place among all the works of imagination designed for the instruction of men as well as children, manhood no less than youth. Seek neither in romances, nor in the most special treatises which a tender philanthropy enlightened by science has inspired, a code of physical, moral, and intellectual education preferable to it! I wish you could discover such an one, but you will not. Those fortunate combinations of heart and genius to which the munificence of M. de Monthyon has appropriated an annual prize,{3} are not altogether so common as he seems to have imagined; only three or four occur in a century, and these are not all of the same value. Pluche’s Le Spectacle de la Nature, the Abbe Gerard’s Comte de Valmont, Filassier’s L’Ami de la Jeunesse, the Magasin des Enfants by Madame Leprince de Beaumont; a few others, and how few!—apparent rari nantes{4}—compose that choice and special library which increases so very slowly. Meanwhile, until others are produced, if I had the honour to exercise any influence on the deliberations of the French Academy, I would engage it to bestow the prize yearly on the Swiss Robinson of M. Wyss, and to distribute that work yearly among our schools. I admit that such an arrangement would not be altogether conformable to the rigorous stipulations of Monthyon’s will; but I am convinced that it would exactly fulfil the donor’s intentions.

The Swiss Robinson of M. Wyss is Robinson Crusoe in the bosom of his family. Instead of the rash and obstinate sailor who struggles against death in a prolonged agony, it is a father, a mother, and their charming children, so different in age, character, and mind, who engage our interest. Do not imagine that interest is diminished because it is divided. It is multiplied, on the contrary, by all the sympathies which a family inspires. The new author’s combination has changed the entire economy of his fable; it transports you from the final abode of a solitary adventurer to the cradle of human society. It puts before you the growth of communities when enlightened by God’s wisdom and succoured by His providence. Crusoe’s island expands before your eyes; and you may study there the progress of a rapid civilization which embraces every period of the world’s history.

The Swiss Robinson is one of those men who has learned much from the simple but laudable design of gathering knowledge, and whom Necessity, that imperious ruler of minds, suddenly compels to transform all his theories into practice. Over man in a natural and uncultivated condition he has the advantage of instruction; like Adam, he knows the names and properties of things—a marvellous boon, which our species possessed in its primitive state, which it lost after the Fall, and which it does but slowly recover by collecting the discoveries and ideas of past generations; but this precious labour of an exalted intelligence our hero has undergone. All that can be known, he knows; all those mysteries of creation which are comprehensible and useful, have been revealed to him; and that knowledge which springs of God while accumulating in a judicious and submissive mind, has contributed to strengthen his religious faith. It is such a man as this who is called upon to shelter a wife and children—to feed, to clothe, to lodge them in a manner suitable to their habits—with the scanty resources of the desert; it is this man who succeeds in so great a task by moans of arduous labours, indefatigable exertions, and a devout confidence in the unlimited goodness of the Master. His history embodies, then, the entire history of man, and even of society; it is space enclosed within a narrow boundary; it is time summed up in a brief succession of years—the prolonged and patient toil of humanity set forth in the internal economy of a small household. It is the peculiarly attractive and readable summary of an encyclopedia, conceived by men of true wisdom, and adapted to our actual needs.

A moment’s reflection suffices to show that M. Wyss’s plan embraces a complete Educational Course, and that it conducts the author, in a single generation, to the reasonable limits of Progress, understanding the latter word in its exact value—that is, without regard to the extravagant pretensions of those impious sophists who are always building Babel! The Swiss Crusoe asks of Nature all the help which Nature can give to man, and Nature refuses him nothing, because all creation is at the service of humanity. To laborious patience nothing is wanting, to inventive industry nothing is wanting, but those things whose need has not yet been experienced, and shall we say that aught is really deficient which is not necessary? It is true that the Swiss Crusoe’s island is more than usually favoured in its natural products; but that we do not find the same resources wherever we cast our glances or plant our feet is due to imperfect inquiry, or, if we may so speak, to the absence of any absolute and imperious need. Who in populous cities pent has not trodden disdainfully on the much-contemned nettle and bracken{5} never reflecting that these could supply him with an agreeable and wholesome food, a tissue not inferior to that of hemp, a paper far preferable to that which we manufacture at present from cotton, a savoury bread, a brilliant transparent crystal? Truly we are very heedless and very ungrateful! But the Swiss Crusoe avails himself of all the gifts of God, while referring the glory of them to God; he studies, and he learns in company with his pupils, which is an excellent method of teaching; every discovery leads to an experiment, every experiment creates some art or suggests some handicraft; each day bears its own fruit; all these discoveries, all these successes, are so many acts of gratitude to the great Creator. See how this life is animated by wholesome pursuits, by useful and strengthening labours, by pious aspirations towards a merciful Father, by a sweet and tender emulousness who shall most contribute to the happiness of all! Show me anywhere a system of primary instruction which surpasses this, and whether it comes from Locke, Rousseau, the philosophers, or the University, I promise it beforehand my warmest praises!

CHARLES NODIER,

Member of the French Academy

1871.

Chapter 1

For many days we had been tempest-tossed. Six times had the darkness closed over a wild and terrific scene, and returning light as often brought but renewed distress, for the raging storm increased in fury until on the seventh day all hope was lost.

We were driven completely out of our course; no conjecture could be formed as to our whereabouts. The crew had lost heart, and were utterly exhausted by incessant labour.

The riven masts had gone by the board, leaks had been sprung in every direction, and the water, which rushed in, gained upon us rapidly.

Instead of reckless oaths, the seamen now uttered frantic cries to God for mercy, mingled with strange and often ludicrous vows, to be performed should deliverance be granted.

Every man on board alternately commended his soul to his Creator, and strove to bethink himself of some means of saving his life.

My heart sank as I looked round upon my family in the midst of these horrors. Our four young sons were overpowered by terror. ‘Dear children,’ said I, ‘if the Lord will, He can save us even from this fearful peril; if not, let us calmly yield our lives into His hand, and think of the joy and blessedness of finding ourselves for ever and ever united in that happy home above.’

At these words my weeping wife looked bravely up, and, as the boys clustered round her, she began to cheer and encourage them with calm and loving words. I rejoiced to see her fortitude, though my heart was ready to break as I gazed on my dear ones.

We knelt down together, one after another praying with deep earnestness and emotion. Fritz, in particular, besought help and deliverance for his dear parents and brothers, as though quite forgetting himself.

Our hearts were soothed by the never-failing comfort of child-like confiding prayer, and the horrors of our situation seemed less overwhelming. ‘Ah,’ thought I, ‘the Lord will hear our prayer! He will help us.’

Amid the roar of the thundering waves I suddenly heard the cry of ‘Land! land!’, while at the same instant the ship struck with a frightful shock, which threw everyone to the deck, and seemed to threaten her immediate destruction.

Dreadful sounds betokened the breaking up of the ship, and the roaring waters poured in on all sides.

Then the voice of the captain was heard above the tumult, shouting, ‘Lower away the boats! We are lost!’

‘Lost!’ I exclaimed, and the word went like a dagger to my heart; but seeing my children’s terror renewed, I composed myself, calling out cheerfully, ‘Take courage, my boys! We are all above water yet. There is the land not far off, let us do our best to reach it. You know God helps those that help themselves!’ With that, I left them and went on deck. What was my horror when through the foam and spray I beheld the only remaining boat leave the ship, the last of the seamen spring into her and push off, regardless of my cries and entreaties that we might be allowed to share their slender chance of preserving their lives. My voice was drowned in the howling of the blast, and even had the crew wished it, the return of the boat was impossible.

Casting my eyes despairingly around, I became gradually aware that our position was by no means hopeless, inasmuch as the stern of the ship containing our cabin was jammed between two high rocks, and was partly raised from among the breakers which dashed the fore-part to pieces. As the clouds of mist and rain drove past, I could make out, through rents in the vaporous curtain, a line of rocky coast, and, rugged as it was, my heart bounded towards it as a sign of help in the hour of need. Yet the sense of our lonely and forsaken condition weighed heavily upon me as I returned to my family, constraining myself to say with a smile, ‘Courage, dear ones! Although our good ship will never sail more, she is so placed that our cabin will remain above water, and tomorrow, if the wind and waves abate, I see no reason why we should not be able to get ashore.’

These few words had an immediate effect on the spirits of my children, who at once regarded our problematical chance of escaping as a happy certainty, and began to enjoy the relief from the violent pitching and rolling of the vessel.

My wife, however, perceived my distress and anxiety in spite of my forced composure, and I made her comprehend our real situation, greatly fearing the effect of the intelligence on her nerves. Not for a moment did her courage and trust in Providence forsake her, and on seeing this, my fortitude revived.

‘We must find some food, and take a good supper,’ said she, ‘it will never do to grow faint by fasting too long. We shall require our utmost strength tomorrow.’

Night drew on apace, the storm was as fierce as ever, and at intervals we were startled by crashes announcing further damage to our unfortunate ship.

‘God will help us soon now, won’t He, father?’ said my youngest child.

‘You silly little thing,’ said Fritz, my eldest son, sharply, ‘don’t you know that we must not settle what God is to do for us? We must have patience and wait His time.’

‘Very well said, had it been said kindly, Fritz, my boy. You too often speak harshly to your brothers, although you may not mean to do so.’

A good meal being now ready, my youngsters ate heartily, and retiring to rest were speedily fast asleep. Fritz, who was of an age to be aware of the real danger we were in, kept watch with us. After a long silence, ‘Father,’ said he, ‘don’t you think we might contrive swimming-belts for mother and the boys? With those we might all escape to land, for you and I can swim.’

‘Your idea is so good,’ answered I, ‘that I shall arrange something at once, in case of an accident during the night.’

We immediately searched about for what would answer the purpose, and fortunately got hold of a number of empty flasks and tin canisters, which we connected two and two together so as to form floats sufficiently buoyant to support a person in the water, and my wife and young sons each willingly put one on. I then provided myself with matches, knives, cord, and other portable articles, trusting that, should the vessel go to pieces before daylight, we might gain the shore, not wholly destitute.

Fritz, as well as his brothers, now slept soundly. Throughout the night my wife and I maintained our prayerful watch, dreading at every fresh sound some fatal change in the position of the wreck.

At length the faint dawn of day appeared, the long weary night was over, and with thankful hearts we perceived that the gale had begun to moderate; blue sky was seen above us, and the lovely hues of sunrise adorned the eastern horizon.

I aroused the boys, and we assembled on the remaining portion of the deck, when they, to their surprise, discovered that no one else was on board.

‘Hello, papa! What has become of everybody? Are the sailors gone? Have they taken away the boats? Oh, papa! why did they leave us behind? What can we do by ourselves!’

‘My good children,’ I replied, ‘we must not despair, although we seem deserted. See how those on whose skill and good faith we depended have left us cruelly to our fate in the hour of danger. God will never do so. He has not forsaken us, and we will trust Him still. Only let us bestir ourselves, and each cheerily do his best. Who has anything to propose?’

‘The sea will soon be calm enough for swimming,’ said Fritz.

‘And that would be all very fine for you,’ exclaimed Ernest, ‘but think of mother and the rest of us! Why not build a raft and all get on shore together?’

‘We should find it difficult, I think, to make a raft that would carry us safe to shore. However, we must contrive something, and first let each try to procure what will be of most use to us.’

Away we all went to see what was to be found, I myself proceeding to examine, as of greatest consequence, the supplies of provisions and fresh water within our reach.

My wife took her youngest son, Franz, to help her to feed the unfortunate animals on board, who were in a pitiful plight, having been neglected for several days.

Fritz hastened to the arms chest, Ernest to look for tools; and Jack went towards the captain’s cabin, the door of which he no sooner opened, than out sprang two splendid large dogs, who testified their extreme delight and gratitude by such tremendous bounds that they knocked their little deliverer completely head over heels, frightening him nearly out of his wits. Jack did not long yield either to fear or anger, he presently recovered himself, the dogs seemed to ask pardon by vehemently licking his face and hands, and so, seizing the larger by the ears, he jumped on his back, and, to my great amusement, coolly rode to meet me as I came up the hatchway.

When we reassembled in the cabin, we all displayed our treasures.

Fritz brought a couple of guns, shot belt, powder-flasks, and plenty of bullets.

Ernest produced a cap full of nails, an axe, and a hammer, while pincers, chisels and augers stuck out of all his pockets.

Little Franz carried a box, and eagerly began to show us the ‘nice sharp little hooks’ it contained. ‘Well, done, Franz!’ cried I, ‘these fish hooks, which you the youngest have found, may contribute more than anything else in the ship to save our lives by procuring food for us. Fritz and Ernest, you have chosen well.’

‘Will you praise me too?’ said my dear wife. ‘I have nothing to show, but I can give you good news. Some useful animals are still alive; a cow, a donkey, two goats, six sheep, a ram and a fine sow. I was but just in time to save their lives by taking food to them.’

‘All these things are excellent indeed,’ said I, ‘but my friend Jack here, has presented me with a couple of huge hungry useless dogs, who will eat more than any of us.’

‘Oh, papa! They will be of use! Why, they will help us to hunt when we get on shore!’

‘No doubt they will, if ever we do get on shore, Jack; but I must say I don’t know how it is to be done.’

‘Can’t we each get into a big tub, and float there?’ returned he. ‘I have often sailed splendidly like that, round the pond at home.’

‘My child, you have hit on a capital idea,’ cried I. ‘Now, Ernest, let me have your tools, hammers, nails, saws, augers, and all; and then make haste to collect any tubs you can find!’

We very soon found four large casks, made of sound wood, and strongly bound with iron hoops; they were floating with many other things in the water in the hold, but we managed to fish them out, and drag them to a suitable place for launching them. They were exactly what I wanted, and I succeeded in sawing them across the middle. Hard work it was, and we were glad enough to stop and refresh ourselves with wine and biscuits.

My eight tubs now stood ranged in a row near the water’s edge, and I looked at them with great satisfaction; to my surprise, my wife did not seem to share my pleasure!

‘I shall never,’ said she, ‘muster courage to get into one of these!’

‘Do not be too sure of that, dear wife; when you see my contrivance completed, you will perhaps prefer it to this immovable wreck.’

I next procured a long thin plank on which my tubs could be fixed, and the two ends of this I bent upwards so as to form a keel. Other two planks were nailed along the sides of the tubs; they also being flexible, were brought to a point at each end, and all firmly secured and nailed together. I felt satisfied that in smooth water this craft would be perfectly trustworthy. But when we thought all was ready for the launch, we found, to our dismay, that the grand contrivance was so heavy and clumsy, that even our united efforts could not move it an inch.

‘I must have a lever,’ cried I. ‘Run and fetch the capstan bar!’

Fritz quickly brought one and, having formed rollers by cutting up a long spar, I raised the forepart of my boat with the bar, and my sons placed a roller under it.

‘How is it, father,’ inquired Ernest, ‘that with that thing you alone can do more than all of us together?’

I explained, as well as I could in a hurry, the principle of the lever; and promised to have a long talk on the subject of Mechanics, should we have a future opportunity.

I now made fast a long rope to the stern of our boat, attaching the other end to a beam; then placing a second and third roller under it, we once more began to push, this time with success, and soon our gallant craft was safely launched: so swiftly indeed did she glide into the water that, but for the rope, she would have passed beyond our reach. The boys wished to jump in directly; but, alas, she leaned so much on one side that they could not venture to do so.

Some heavy things being thrown in, however, the boat righted itself by degrees, and the boys were so delighted that they struggled which should first leap in to have the fun of sitting down in the tubs. But it was plain to me at once that something more was required to make her perfectly safe, so I contrived out-riggers to preserve the balance, by nailing long poles across at the stem and stern, and fixing at the ends of each empty brandy casks. Then the boat appearing steady, I got in; and turning it towards the most open side of the wreck, I cut and cleared away obstructions, so as to leave a free passage for our departure, and the boys brought oars to be ready for the voyage. This important undertaking we were forced to postpone until the next day, as it was by this time far too late to attempt it. It was not pleasant to have to spend another night in so precarious a situation; but, yielding to necessity, we sat down to enjoy a comfortable supper, for during our exciting and incessant work all day we had taken nothing but an occasional biscuit and a little wine.

We prepared for rest in a much happier frame of mind than on the preceding day, but I did not forget the possibility of a renewed storm, and therefore made every one put on the belts as before. Then retiring to our berths, peaceful sleep prepared us all for the exertions of the coming day.

We rose up betimes, for sleep weighs lightly on the hopeful, as well as on the anxious. After kneeling together in prayer, ‘Now my beloved ones,’ said I, ‘with God’s help we are about to effect our escape. Let the poor animals we must leave behind, be well fed, and put plenty of fodder within their reach: in a few days we may be able to return, and save them likewise. After that, collect everything you can think of which may be of use to us.’

The boys joyfully obeyed me, and I selected from the large quantity of stores they got together, canvas to make a tent, a chest of carpenter’s tools, guns, pistols, powder, shot, and bullets, rods and fishing tackle, an iron pot, a case of portable soup and another of biscuit. These useful articles of course took the place of the ballast I had hastily thrown in the day before.

With a hearty prayer for God’s blessing, we now began to take our seats, each in his tub. Just then we heard the cocks begin to crow, as though to reproach us for deserting them. ‘Why should not the fowls go with us!’ exclaimed I. ‘If we find no food for them, they can be food for us!’ Ten hens and a couple of cocks were accordingly placed in one of the tubs, and secured with some wire-netting over them.

The ducks and geese were set at liberty, and took to the water at once, while the pigeons, rejoicing to find themselves on the wing, swiftly made for the shore. My wife, who managed all this for me, kept us waiting for her some little time, and came at last with a bag as big as a pillow in her arms. ‘This is my contribution,’ said she, throwing the bag to little Franz, to be, as I thought, a cushion for him to sit upon.

All being ready, we cast off, and moved away from the wreck. My good, brave wife sat in the first compartment of the boat; next her was Franz, a pretty little boy, nearly eight years old. Then came Fritz, a handsome, spirited young fellow of fifteen; the two centre tubs contained the valuable cargo; then came our bold, thoughtless Jack; next him Ernest, my second son, intelligent, well-informed, and rather indolent. I myself, the anxious, loving father, stood in the stern, endeavouring to guide the raft with its precious burden to a safe landing-place.

The elder boys took the oars, everyone wore a float belt, and had something useful close to him in case of being thrown into the water.

The tide was flowing, which was a great help to the young oarsmen. We emerged from the wreck and glided into the open sea. All eyes were strained to get a full view of the land, and the boys pulled with a will; but for some time we made no progress, as the boat kept turning round and round, until I hit upon the right way to steer it, after which we merrily made for the shore.

We had left the two dogs, Turk and Juno, on the wreck, as being both large mastiffs we did not care to have their additional weight on board our craft; but when they saw us apparently deserting them, they set up a piteous howl, and sprang into the sea. I was sorry to see this, for the distance to the land was so great that I scarcely expected them to be able to accomplish it. They followed us, however, and, occasionally resting their fore-paws on the outriggers, kept up with us well. Jack was inclined to deny them this their only chance of safety. ‘Stop,’ said I, ‘that would be unkind as well as foolish; remember, the merciful man regardeth the life of his beast.’

Our passage though tedious was safe; but the nearer we approached the shore the less inviting it appeared; the barren rocks seemed to threaten us with misery and want.

Many casks, boxes and bales of goods floated on the water around us. Fritz and I managed to secure a couple of hogsheads, so as to tow them alongside. With the prospect of famine before us, it was desirable to lay hold of anything likely to contain provisions.

By-and-by we began to perceive that, between and beyond the cliffs, green grass and trees were discernible. Fritz could distinguish many tall palms, and Ernest hoped they would prove to be coconut trees, and enjoyed the thoughts of drinking the refreshing milk.

‘I am very sorry I never thought of bringing away the Captain’s telescope,’ said I.

‘Oh, look here, father!’ cried Jack, drawing a little spy-glass joyfully out of his pocket.

By means of this glass, I made out that at some distance to the left the coast was much more inviting; a strong current however carried us directly towards the frowning rocks, but I presently observed an opening, where a stream flowed into the sea, and saw that our geese and ducks were swimming towards this place. I steered after them into the creek, and we found ourselves in a small bay or inlet where the water was perfectly smooth and of moderate depth. The ground sloped gently upwards from the low banks to the cliffs which here retired inland, leaving a small plain, on which it was easy for us to land. Everyone sprang gladly out of the boat but little Franz, who, lying packed in his tub like a potted shrimp, had to be lifted out by his mother.

The dogs had scrambled on shore before us; they received us with loud barking and the wildest demonstrations of delight. The geese and ducks kept up an incessant din, added to which was the screaming and croaking of flamingoes and penguins, whose dominion we were invading. The noise was deafening, but far from unwelcome to me, as I thought of the good dinners the birds might furnish.

As soon as we could gather our children around us on dry land, we knelt to offer thanks and praise for our merciful escape, and with full hearts we commended ourselves to God’s good keeping for the time to come.

All hands then briskly fell to the work of unloading, and, oh, how rich we felt ourselves as we did so! The poultry we left at liberty to forage for themselves, and set about finding a suitable place to erect a tent in which to pass the night. This we speedily did; thrusting a long spar into a hole in the rock, and supporting the other end by a pole firmly planted in the ground, we formed a framework over which we stretched the sailcloth we had brought; besides fastening this down with pegs, we placed our heavy chests and boxes on the border of the canvas, and arranged hooks so as to be able to close up the entrance during the night.

When this was accomplished, the boys ran to collect moss and grass, to spread in the tent for our beds, while I arranged a fireplace with some large flat stones, near the brook which flowed close by. Dry twigs and seaweed were soon in a blaze on the hearth, I filled the iron pot with water, and giving my wife several cakes of the portable soup, she established herself as our cook, with little Franz to help her.

He, thinking his mother was melting some glue for carpentry, was eager to know ‘what papa was going to make next?’

‘This is to be soup for your dinner,

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A very curious reading from a historical perspective. What would life on an uninhabited island in the southern seas look like from a 19th century man's perspective? Apparently it would mostly consist of killing and/or taming any wild beast imaginable from all five continents. On that island the brave Robinson family encounters penguins, lions, walruses, kangaroos, ostriches, lions, elephants, bears, etc. I believe the learned Mr. Wyss felt an immense pressure to be just and not to overlook any creature he may have had a fortune to come across in his studies.

A little spoiler to add drama: some beasts were killed, while riding one of the aforementioned ostriches.

Go to rodwms's profile

Maybe it's the translation but I tried to read this book (aloud) to my children and it bored us all unremittingly ...

Go to bookconcierge's profile

Digital audiobook read by Frederick Davidson. Originally published in 1812, this is a classic adventure tale of a mother, father and four sons who are shipwrecked on an unnamed (and apparently uncharted) tropical island in the South Seas. I had never read the book, though I had seen the Disney movie back in the ‘60s. My adult self recognizes the glaringly implausible (and, frankly, impossible) scenarios – penguins AND bears AND ostriches! – but the adventure still captures the imagination. I also got a bit tired of the Father’s propensity to lecture; my stars, but the man is a walking encyclopedia and he feels compelled to impart his knowledge constantly. Since he is also the narrator, his superior attitude has plenty of opportunity to “shine.” Still, there is much practical information as well as natural history explained, and there are some very exciting scenes to capture the imagination of a young would-be explorer. There are multiple editions of this classic and some have modernized the language to make it “more accessible to today’s students.” One edition I looked at had the narrator always referring to “the Mother,” never naming this strong woman but relegating her to only that role in life. The edition I wound up reading at least had the narrator referring to her as “my wife.” Again, no name but at least showing a personal relationship.

Go to patty_jansen-1's profile

I love the good classics. For example we have all books in the Anne of Green Gables series. They are obviously written in a different time and in a style that was common then: lots of description and day-to-day happenings without a strong plot. But these books give a beautiful and interesting flavour of times past.This book, however... I completely fail to understand why this ever became a classic.It starts well, but soon the book gets bogged in chapter after chapter of problems too easily solved, self-righteous preaching and family wholesomeness that I find unbelievable. In addition to this, the author appears not to have had one ounce of knowledge regarding the world's geography, climate and plant species.If you want to read classics to your kids, find something else.

Go to mumfie_1's profile

As an adult this story is ridiculously irritating.The ship they were shipwrecked from happened to be outfitting a colony and therefore has all the tools and growing crops you could wish for. The island has a good selection of edible plants, trees and animals, as well as running potable water. The family between them can manage everything and know how to do everything they need without having a survival manual to hand.If you can get past all that it's a good and classic novel.

Go to auntieknickers's profile

It's been a very long time since I read this, but I think I still have my original copy from the Junior Deluxe Editions book club my parents signed me up for. I'm sure I read it more than once, because I have such clear memories of the adventures. I especially loved how they could always find things they needed on the wrecked ship.

Go to bookbrook's profile

I love this book!!!

Go to charlie68_1's profile

The main story is quite good, I found the digressions informative but tedious. The book might be a compendium of scientific knowledge of the early nineteenth century. Which gives an interesting viewpoint into the world of that era.

Go to jonsweitzerlamme's profile

Even on a shipwrecked island, you can't really ride an ostrich. Also, how many houses does one family need? Just a fun, wild read.

Go to mrslee_1's profile

I read this aloud to my children and they enjoyed it once the action got going. I think they were a bit credulous at the way the survivors managed so well on the island, yet it was fun to read anyway. Besides, that was one of their favorite places at Disney Land, though I think it has been changed now to something more modern. Loved the discussion in the book of the things seaweed is good for and its various properties.

Go to raykhenberg's profile

About as exciting as reading the user manual for a vacuum cleaner. Either way, you're constantly thinking to yourself, 'Well, this sucks.'

Go to aprildt_1's profile

This is considered a classic, and I liked a lot action and the inventions the family created when they were stranded on the island, but I was not able to keep my disbelief suspended. For example, the father knew every species they came across. I don't believe that anyone in 1800, no matter how well-read he was, would react to every species (both plant and animal) with a spurt of perfect knowledge of that species. Fun book, for the most part.

Go to davidleeking_1's profile

Loved it as a kid. As a grown up reading it TO my kids, it was a little tedious in places. And I got a kick out of how many different species of animal exists on their little island.Most amusing.

Go to callmechristina's profile

I dunno...I know the purpose of the book was to teach kids and people how to survive in the wild, and maybe I'd find it more interesting as an adult, but it was so dry! I liked the movie better :-D

Go to edwinbcn's profile

Nowadays, a work such as The Swiss Family Robinson would be considered an unacceptable rip-off of Robinson Crusoe. What is puzzling still is what lends it the status of a classic, if not its apparently staggering sales.Devoid of originality, what more (except for sales) does a book need to become a classic. Presently, both Robinson Crusoe and The Swiss Family Robinson are mainly read, whether or not in adapted editions as children's books. The latter was intended to be a book for children, while the former was not. It is difficult to assess whether youth would consider Defoe's novel distressing or difficult to understand.From a pedagogical point of view, that is to say, children would probably learn more words and concepts from The Swiss Family Robinson as the author deliberately enriched it with vocabulary, referring to various plants and animals, which could not have lived together on a island as described.Where the island of Robinson Crusoe would appear alien and dangerous, the island of The Swiss Family Robinson would seem familiar, surroundings essentially not much different from the reader's home surroundings. Both Robinsons were happy to get shipwrecked with some supplies and tools they could salvage from the wreck, but in the case of the The Swiss Family Robinson they were able to salvage so much and so many essentially luxury items that their experience on the island is not very distressing. The same attention for luxury is expressed in the idea of constructing a spiral staircase in their shelter (p. 162) and preparing a meal of caviare (p. 176).

Go to lovinglit's profile

So. A family gets shipwrecked on an island. They happily build some houses, plant food-bearing plants, tame some local animals, and kill one of everything else they see to put in their "museum". The head of the household is a pious man, who luckily seems to know everything about every animal/plant/indigenous custom that ever existed. This father is the narrator of the story. It seems that at every turn there is an opportunity for him to impart some specialised knowledge and moral lesson for his sons. I found him to be stuffy and arrogant, but that was the time I suppose. The only thing saving this story for me was that it was originally a bedtime story told to the authors sons. In that context I can see the fast moving events working, but in the novel form it is repetitive and borderline meaningless

Go to cshoughton's profile

A story about a family sentenced to live in a paradise of raw materials and quality tools where they enjoy near-constant divine intervention on their behalf. There's no tension or depth in the book, just an inventory of their industry, consumption, and slaughter.

Go to matt2rocha0505's profile

This book is about the Robinson family getting stuck on a abanden ship. In the begining of the book the family is on a ship headed to sweden but end up in a bad srorm and crash in to a big rock. The crew abanen them and the father said the ship wont sink fast and they would sleep tell tomarow. In the middle of the book they find saliler also ship reced on the same island as them. At the end of the book the get saved but only the two sons and the sailer who is actuly a girl leave the island why'll their mom, dad, and yunger brother stayes.

Go to thornton37814's profile

I remember trying to read this book when I was a child. I didn't enjoy it. I did, however, enjoy the movie better. The story concerns a Swiss family's adventure in the South Pacific after being shipwrecked. It's a story of survival. After seeing another person's review here on LibraryThing, I decided to revisit the book to see if my adult tastes in reading made a difference in my like/dislike of the book. Unfortunately I found that the book had not aged well, even though it is considered a classic. It's one of the few books which fall into the category, "Skip the book; watch the movie instead."

Go to atimco-1's profile

The Swiss Family Robinson, first published in 1812, is considered a staple of children's adventure fiction. Somehow I must have missed it growing up, and unfortunately it wasn't the fun read I was expecting. It was—dare I admit it?—rather boring. I was expecting adventure; what I got was a list of inventions and how they were invented. After awhile I grew tired of the descriptions of plants and their uses, the narrator's random useful knowledge and ingenuity, the details of every innovation, the management of their various homes and outposts, etc. And where, oh where are the pirates?This is, of course, one of the more successful imitators of Daniel Defoe's Robinson Crusoe, and it's fun to think of Johann Wyss's children gathering around him to listen to the adventures of the Swiss Robinsons. And it did inspire the old Disney movie, which is an utterly ridiculous and lovable film. I appreciated Wyss's deliberate inclusion of moral lessons, though I might approach things a bit differently than the narrator with my own children. Despite the general fact-reporting style of the narrative, there are a few humorous bits, like this wry observation:I constructed a couple of hen-coops, too, for the hens and their little chicks which we had brought from Woodlands, for I knew that if I left them unprotected, the inquisitive dispositions of Knips and Fangs might induce them to make anatomical experiments which would be detrimental to welfare of the youngsters. (300)The edition I read from Puffin is the most popular English translation by W. H. G. Kingston, and I didn't find it particularly well done. Misplaced modifiers, comma splices, and other such failings are the order of the day. I found this copy secondhand and it has its own little history, I think. The inside cover is inscribed to "Zoë" from "Papa" for Christmas 2004. I can't help but imagine some fond grandfather giving his granddaughter a book he loved and hoping that she would enjoy it just as he had. Well, it's a paperback and didn't show any signs of ever having been read when I bought it. I hope Papa never found out. Though I can't say I really blame Zoë, either. Disappointing.

Go to nx74defiant's profile

My memories of this story came from the Disney movie. So I noticed the differences. Disney reduce the number of sons to three. In the book they have 4 sons. The later half is quite different from the movie.I was surprised by how violent the boys were toward the animals they met. How they would "punish" an animal. The father really disliked his son Ernest. Ernest was a thinker and more serious not as inclined to physical action, so the father dismissed him as lazy. It made me uncomfortable how the mother wanted then to stay with her. She dreaded her son's going off and having their own lives.

Go to dreesie-1's profile

Misogynistic drivel.Father knows all. About everything. Animals, plants, trees; how to build, cook, grow, and make things he remembers reading about in some book some time ago. Mother cooks, and cleans, and is incredibly strong and clever for someone who needs so much protection. Boys are clever and kill everything in sight.When I was a kid my brother had a beautiful illustrated edition of this book. (I had Pinocchio.) I read mine, and I wanted to read his books soooo badly. These editions were beautiful, full color, thick paper. And he would not let me. And my parents backed him up, it was his book. I was willing to let him read Pinocchio. He didn't want to. He didn't read his volume either. It just sat there, making me angry. I loved the Little House books, I so wanted to read this beautiful book about the stranded family! Why didn't my mother just tell me it was drivel?(Read on Serial Reader.)

Go to michellehewitt's profile

Good over all story but the book drags in places and children have trouble relating to the characters.

Go to t1bclasslibrary's profile

I didn't expect to like this one as much as I did- I thought I'd be bored with it and put off by the fact that an impossible variety of animals and other inaccuracies were coupled with the know-it-all tales of the father. I ended up being fascinated by everything they did. All their adventures, all their creations, everything that made living in the wilderness a civilized and abundant life for them. The ending had some interesting implications- if they indeed started a colony, they wouldn't have the same abundance, but at the same time, they'd have friendship and a future.

Go to danielle_b_12's profile

I absolutely loved this book!!! It was difficult to put down therefore this was a "nothing else got done" kinda book. It was wonderful to read about how God came first, as it should be, and how getting back to the basics brings family blessings unmeasurable.

Go to azlanshae's profile

This book is about a family who gets shipwrecked. They take refuge on the shore of an island and hope someone comes to rescue them. Eventually they decide to begin making a home for themselves. The boys help their father create an amazing tree house. The family spends their days adventuring around the island and their nights playing music and dancing! The littlest brother is my favorite because he likes to catch and train wild animals on the island. The older brothers go off to explore the other part of the island and end up saving a girl (who they think is a boy at first). The brothers vie for her attention and both develop crushes on her. In the end they are rescued by the girls grandfather, but all but one brother choses to stay on the island and continue living the dream life!

Go to bookworm12_1's profile

I must have watched the 1960 Disney movie of this book dozens of times when I was growing up. Obviously that colored my reading and when I came across some major differences between the book and movie I was a little surprised. They left out one of the sons, there is no showdown with pirates, and the character of Roberta was completely created for the film. Regardless, The book is a lot of fun, but it’s a very different story from the one I was expecting. The Robinson family is shipwrecked on their way to Australia. They survive and begin to build a life for themselves on the island that they christen “New Switzerland”. Over the course of a few years the family builds a home and learns how to make do in their new world. In addition to the parents, there are four boys: Sons: Fritz, Ernest, Jack, and Franz. The family’s father teaches survival lessons, like hunting and gathering, but he also teaches his children how to live well. He has a ridiculously diverse knowledge of plants and animals, which at times seemed a bit unlikely. I love that even though they are stranded on a desert island, they work so hard to continue to learn. They are all practicing different languages, studying new sciences, exploring, getting exercise. Their priorities didn’t change. Their father still has the whole family work together and treat each other with civility and respect. He instructs them in everything and they support and encourage one another. I kept wondering what would happen to a family today if they were stranded and couldn’t use their cell phones. Would they even know how to open a coconut? I kept thinking of Lost, the modern day equivalent of this adventure in some ways. I think a lot of people wouldn’t know how to survive for more than a few days. There’s one terrifying scene that will stay with me for a long time, it includes a donkey and boa constrictor and that’s all I’ll say. A few of the other scenes where animals are killed aren’t pleasant to read, but they certainly aren’t gratuitous. Each one takes place because they need to survive, not for sport.BOTTOM LINE: I think this one would be perfect to read aloud to boys. It’s all adventure and learning how to hunt and survive, but the moral lessons about treating animals fairly and hard work give it an added weight.

Go to burnit99's profile

This 1812 novel was made into a 1960 movie that I remember as being pretty wholesomely Disneyfied. To my amazement, the actual book is equally unrealistically wholesome. The family, consisting of a Swiss mother, father, and four boys, are marooned on an uncharted island following a shipwreck in which they are abandoned by the captain and crew, never to be seen again. They embrace their fate with verve and good cheer, emptying the ship of all useful tools and supplies, and creating a mainly comfortable and well-fed life by dint of hard work and a cheerful outlook. The island must be dozens of square miles, supporting a variety of plants and animals that co-exist nowhere else on earth. There are kangaroos, lions, tigers, bears, buffalo, boa constrictors, ostriches and monkeys. The family has spent at least a decade on the island by the conclusion, never despairing of their fate or their isolation. The conclusion itself, after a decade of isolation in which they are only rarely threatened by the island predators, is in equal measure satisfying and unbelievable.

Go to loganlash20's profile

The Swiss Family Robinson is about a family that shipwrecks on an Edenlike island. Thier shipwreck and the rest of the crew takes the boats and leave. This book is very interesting, but it gets boring after a while.

Go to nikkles_1's profile

Swiss Family Robinson is a great family adventure story. Its old but still a great read with lots of action. If you like this definitely try Kidnapped.