I never got that Jack London's works were billed as children's or adolescent literature, simply because they're about animals, because as a general rule, they're absolutely brutal, to the degree that I worry about the dude. I get that he's writing about a brutal time on the Yukon frontier, where men were harsh and nature harsher, but, good lord, I hope he didn't see the stuff he writes about on a daily basis, let alone participate in it.
This short novel is something of a companion to his other well-known work, The Call of the Wild, but in reverse: here, a wild wolf-dog is brutalized beyond imagining, seemingly from birth, but, still becomes (something) of a domesticated pet, loyal to his master, when he learns the true lesson of love. The end is kind of far-fetched to me; the ending to The Call of the Wild seems more genuine. I think London was trying too hard in this one, to be honest, almost like he had to outdo himself to surpass the last brutal story he wrote.
The book is written largely from the perspective of the wolf-dog, albeit one with very human characteristics. It's really something of a tale of horror, particularly the opening scenes where two men and their six-pack of sled dogs are hunted by a starving pack of 40-plus wild wolves. The unfortunate prey are picked off by the predators one by one, when they find themselves in the "land sharks'" waters and are failed by their one technology that gives them dominion over nature: fire. The rest of the story is kind of a non sequitur, and I'm not sure how the initial scenes fit into the overall narrative of the story, other than to reveal the origins of Kitche, White Fang's semi-domesticated mother, who, in the opening scenes, seemingly turns on her creators, who eventually retake her, and her cub, too. Is this something of revenge in reverse? Dude got issues.
The book still has some merits: the descriptions of the harsh world the cub is born into, and his relations with his masters, as he is bounced like a rubber ball from one exploitative owner to the next, all the while being treated like a piece of meat, are probably pretty close to accurate, but the almost orgiastic descriptions of all the abuse really get to me. London has some serious power issues, and almost exercises cruelty vicariously through his characters, almost like he longs to engage in this behavior himself but just doesn't have the sand. The torture of both animals and man isn't really written from a critical perspective, let alone as condemnation, but it's just really over the top in this one. Didn't enjoy it nearly as much as The Call of the Wild, but I haven't read it in a while, and wanted to finish off the box of old school books I came across. Looking forward much more to reading some of the other ones. I wasn't crazy about this book when I read it as a kid, and my overall impression of it hasn't improved.
This short novel is something of a companion to his other well-known work, The Call of the Wild, but in reverse: here, a wild wolf-dog is brutalized beyond imagining, seemingly from birth, but, still becomes (something) of a domesticated pet, loyal to his master, when he learns the true lesson of love. The end is kind of far-fetched to me; the ending to The Call of the Wild seems more genuine. I think London was trying too hard in this one, to be honest, almost like he had to outdo himself to surpass the last brutal story he wrote.
The book is written largely from the perspective of the wolf-dog, albeit one with very human characteristics. It's really something of a tale of horror, particularly the opening scenes where two men and their six-pack of sled dogs are hunted by a starving pack of 40-plus wild wolves. The unfortunate prey are picked off by the predators one by one, when they find themselves in the "land sharks'" waters and are failed by their one technology that gives them dominion over nature: fire. The rest of the story is kind of a non sequitur, and I'm not sure how the initial scenes fit into the overall narrative of the story, other than to reveal the origins of Kitche, White Fang's semi-domesticated mother, who, in the opening scenes, seemingly turns on her creators, who eventually retake her, and her cub, too. Is this something of revenge in reverse? Dude got issues.
The book still has some merits: the descriptions of the harsh world the cub is born into, and his relations with his masters, as he is bounced like a rubber ball from one exploitative owner to the next, all the while being treated like a piece of meat, are probably pretty close to accurate, but the almost orgiastic descriptions of all the abuse really get to me. London has some serious power issues, and almost exercises cruelty vicariously through his characters, almost like he longs to engage in this behavior himself but just doesn't have the sand. The torture of both animals and man isn't really written from a critical perspective, let alone as condemnation, but it's just really over the top in this one. Didn't enjoy it nearly as much as The Call of the Wild, but I haven't read it in a while, and wanted to finish off the box of old school books I came across. Looking forward much more to reading some of the other ones. I wasn't crazy about this book when I read it as a kid, and my overall impression of it hasn't improved.
