Truly a great book, that speaks for itself.
¿The Sea Wolf¿ by Jack London. This book is an extraordinary tale of Humphrey Van Weyden, how the ferry he is one at the very beginning of the book sinks and he is picked up by the sealing-schooner called the Ghost. So he is forced to work on the ship under the command of captain Wolf Larsen along with his crew. I found this book to be very interesting and intellectual. The book was written before I was born and I believe is more sophisticated and proper than a lot of books written today. The grammar is very rich and descriptive. ¿I do not forget one night, when I should have been asleep, of lying on the forecastle-head and gazing down at the spectral ripple of foam thrust aside by the Ghost's forefoot. It sounded like the gurgling of a brook over mossy stones in some quiet dell, and the crooning song of it lured me away and out of myself till I was no longer Hump the cabin-boy, nor Van Weyden, the man who had dreamed away thirty-five years among books. But a voice behind me, the unmistakable voice of Wolf Larsen, strong with the invincible certitude of the man and mellow with appreciation of the words he was quoting, aroused me.¿ Chapter 7. This quote from Chapter seven in the book is one of the many examples of just how descriptive and vivid this book truly is. I also find that most of the conversations between Wolf Larsen and Humphrey Van Weyden are those of importance. As Humphrey is a scholar, and Wolf Larsen has taught himself most of the things he knows. Wolf Larsen despite his rugged and brutish appearance reads Shakespeare, Poe, Darwin, Reed and Kellogg, and Metcalf. The minds of the two characters seem to contradict each other in the most obvious, and yet slight ways all at the same time. Wolf Larsen¿s theories and opinion¿s seem to strengthen or rival that of my own. One of my favorite conversations between Wolf Larsen and Humphrey is that of one they first speak of the immortal soul. ¿By the way, do you believe in the immortal soul?' His lids lifted lazily as he asked the question, and it seemed that the deeps were opening to me and that I was gazing into his soul. But it was an illusion. Far as it might have seemed, no man has ever seen very far into Wolf Larsen's soul, or seen it at all, - of this I am convinced. It was a very lonely soul, I was to learn, that never unmasked, though at rare moments it played at doing so. 'I read immortality in your eyes,' I answered, dropping the 'sir,' - an experiment, for I thought the intimacy of the conversation warranted it. He took no notice. 'By that, I take it, you see something that is alive, but that necessarily does not have to live for ever.' 'I read more than that,' I continued boldly. 'Then you read consciousness. You read the consciousness of life that it is alive; but still no further away, no endlessness of life.' How clearly he thought, and how well he expressed what he thought! From regarding me curiously, he turned his head and glanced out over the leaden sea to windward. A bleakness came into his eyes, and the lines of his mouth grew severe and harsh. He was evidently in a pessimistic mood. 'Then to what end?' he demanded abruptly, turning back to me. 'If I am immortal - why?' Humphrey seems thrown off by the surprising intelligence of Wolf Larsen and almost doesn¿t know how to counter him. The two minds clash in almost a fury trying to prove their own thoughts, while barely listening to the other but never backing down, never showing any sign of submission or weakness.
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