The Sea Wolf

The Sea Wolf

4.2 133
by Jack London
     
 

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From the author of The Call of the Wild, this is the compelling novel of the long and perilous sea voyage of Wolf Larsen, the fascinating and repelling captain of the ship Ghost, and his reluctant crewman Humphrey Van Weyden. Jack London (1876-1916) is best known for The Call of the Wild, which brought him worldwide popularity. The Sea-Wolf was

Overview

From the author of The Call of the Wild, this is the compelling novel of the long and perilous sea voyage of Wolf Larsen, the fascinating and repelling captain of the ship Ghost, and his reluctant crewman Humphrey Van Weyden. Jack London (1876-1916) is best known for The Call of the Wild, which brought him worldwide popularity. The Sea-Wolf was first published in 1904.

Editorial Reviews

Dana Gioia
Although American literati don't read this adventure, it remains a masterpiece of Naturalist fiction.
The Hungry Mind Review

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780025746305
Publisher:
Macmillan Publishing Company, Incorporated
Publication date:
12/28/1985

Read an Excerpt

I scarcely know where to begin, though I sometimes facetiously place the cause of it all to Charley Furuseth's credit. He kept a summer cottage in Mill Valley, under the shadow of Mount Tamalpais, and never occupied it except when he loafed through the winter months and read Nietzsche and Schopenhauer to rest his brain. When summer came on, he elected to sweat out a hot and dusty existence in the city and to toil incessantly. Had it not been my custom to run up to see him every Saturday afternoon and to stop over till Monday morning, this particular January Monday morning would not have found me afloat on San Francisco Bay.

Not but that I was afloat in a safe craft, for the Martinez was a new ferry-steamer, making her fourth or fifth trip on the run between Sausalito and San Francisco. The danger lay in the heavy fog which blanketed the bay, and of which, as a landsman, I had little apprehension. In fact, I remember the placid exaltation with which I took up my position on the forward upper deck, directly beneath the pilot-house, and allowed the mystery of the fog to lay hold of my imagination. A fresh breeze was blowing, and for a time I was alone in the moist obscurity--yet not alone, for I was dimly conscious of the presence of the pilot, and of what I took to be the captain, in the glass house above my head.

I remember thinking how comfortable it was, this division of labor which made it unnecessary for me to study fogs, winds, tides, and navigation, in order to visit my friend who lived across an arm of the sea. It was good that men should be specialists, I mused. The peculiar knowledge of the pilot and captain sufficed for many thousands of people who knew no more ofthe sea and navigation than I knew. On the other hand, instead of having to devote my energy to the learning of a multitude of things, I concentrated it upon a few particular things, such as, for instance, the analysis of Poe's place in American literature--an essay of mine, by the way, in the current Atlantic. Coming aboard, as I passed through the cabin, I had noticed with greedy eyes a stout gentleman reading the Atlantic, which was open at my very essay. And there it was again, the division of labor, the special knowledge of the pilot and captain which permitted the stout gentleman to read my special knowledge on Poe while they carried him safely from Sausalito to San Francisco.

A red-faced man, slamming the cabin door behind him and stumping out on the deck, interrupted my reflections, though I made a mental note of the topic for use in a projected essay which I had thought of calling "The Necessity for Freedom: A Plea for the Artist." The red-faced man shot a glance up at the pilot-house, gazed around at the fog, stumped across the deck and back (he evidently had artificial legs), and stood still by my side, legs wide apart, and with an expression of keen enjoyment on his face. I was not wrong when I decided that his days had been spent on the sea.

"It's nasty weather like this here that turns heads gray before their time," he said, with a nod toward the pilot-house.

"I had not thought there was any particular strain," I answered. "It seems as simple as A, B, C. They know the direction by compass, the distance, and the speed. I should not call it anything more than mathematical certainty."

"Strain!" he snorted. "Simple as A, B, C! Mathematical certainty!"

He seemed to brace himself up and lean backward against the air as he stared at me. "How about this here tide that's rushin' out through the Golden Gate?" he demanded, or bellowed, rather. "How fast is she ebbin'? What's the drift, eh? Listen to that, will you? A bell-buoy, and we're a-top of it! See 'em alterin' the course!"

From out of the fog came the mournful tolling of a bell, and I could see the pilot turning the wheel with great rapidity. The bell, which had seemed straight ahead, was now sounding from the side. Our own whistle was blowing hoarsely, and from time to time the sound of other whistles came to us from out of the fog.

"That's a ferry-boat of some sort," the newcomer said, indicating a whistle off to the right. "And there! D'ye hear that? Blown by mouth. Some scow schooner, most likely. Better watch out, Mr. Schooner-man. Ah, I thought so. Now hell's a-poppin' for somebody!"

The unseen ferry-boat was blowing blast after blast, and the mouth-blown horn was tooting in terror-stricken fashion.

"And now they're payin' their respects to each other and tryin' to get clear," the red-faced man went on, as the hurried whistling ceased.

His face was shining, his eyes flashing with excitement, as he translated into articulate language the speech of the horns and sirens. "That's a steam siren a-goin' it over there to the left. And you hear that fellow with a frog in his throat--a steam schooner as near as I can judge, crawlin' in from the Heads against the tide."

A shrill little whistle, piping as if gone mad, came from directly ahead and from very near at hand. Gongs sounded on the Martinez. Our paddle-wheels stopped, their pulsing beat died away, and then they started again. The shrill little whistle, like the chirping of a cricket amid the cries of great beasts, shot through the fog from more to the side and swiftly grew faint and fainter. I looked to my companion for enlightenment.

"One of them dare-devil launches," he said. "I almost wish we'd sunk him, the little rip! They're the cause of more trouble. And what good are they? Any jackass gets aboard one and runs it from hell to breakfast, blowin' his whistle to beat the band and tellin' the rest of the world to look out for him, because he's comin' and can't look out for himself! Because he's comin'! And you've got to look out, too! Right of way! Common decency! They don't know the meanin' of it!"

I felt quite amused at his unwarranted choler, and while he stumped indignantly up and down I fell to dwelling upon the romance of the fog. And romantic it certainly was--the fog, like the gray shadow of infinite mystery, brooding over the whirling speck of earth; and men, mere motes of light and sparkle, cursed with an insane relish for work, riding their steeds of wood and steel through the heart of the mystery, groping their way blindly through the Unseen, and clamoring and clanging in confident speech the while their hearts are heavy with incertitude and fear.

The voice of my companion brought me back to myself with a laugh. I too had been groping and floundering, the while I thought I rode clear-eyed through the mystery.

Meet the Author

Jack London was an American author who wrote The Call of the Wild and other books. A pioneer in the then-burgeoning world of commercial magazine fiction, he was one of the first Americans to make a lucrative career exclusively from writing.

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The Sea Wolf 4.2 out of 5 based on 1 ratings. 132 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This story begins with the protagonist Humphrey Van Weyden on a ferry steamer called the Martinez. Humphrey is a literature critic who depends on his father for income, and is weak and frail. The Martinez eventually ends up in a collision with another ship. Humphrey is then rescued by seal-schooner called the Ghost ruled by the brutish yet intelligent Wolf Larsen and his cruel men. From here he must use his wits, gain strength, and courage to survive in his harsh new environment filled with madness. I could practically read the philosophy of Naturalism in every line of the story. The characters acts, thoughts, and personality only added more emphasis to this philosophy. For example some characters can have a caring nature, while others can have a more empathetic one. Humphrey also constantly describes the horrible conditions of his new environment and how he learns from it, which gives another great example to this theme. With this piece of classic American Literature, London also heavily highlights the need of self-reliance. He does this with his character Humphrey. Stuck on a boat with no one to support him, there would be no one else to trust but himself. London shows through Humphrey ways that self-reliance is an advantage that individuals can use as a benefit, then as a burden. I loved the way Jack London describes every event in perfect detail. His word choice and imagery could practically play a little movie or paint a vivid picture in my head. The pace of the book was very interesting too. It sped up right from the beginning and maintained its pace until the story was finished. Many of the characters could be likable depending on the person. I personally favored Humphrey because his ideals are similar to mines. Though Wolf Larsen is the antagonist of this story I could not hate him because of the pain of loneliness he feels. Many of the other characters I felt were average and were only used to make the story dramatic, which they succeed in doing. The main thing that disturbed me in this book though, was the precise detail of blood, gore, and crimes committed on the ship. Other than that little topic, I found this book very exciting, and adventurous. This book was very enjoyable to read, and was hard to put down. This characteristic can be shared in London’s many genius pieces of literature such as, Call of the Wild (one of my personal favorites), White Fang, and A Daughter of the Snows. If anyone is thirsting for a good sea adventure, then the Sea Wolf is the perfect choice.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Good book. Interesting.
Davidinwonderland More than 1 year ago
Any Rand must have loved Wolf Larsen. I found myself attracted to him, but, in the end...no, Dick Cheney personified. Humphrey Van Weydon is the true hero. This book causes us to question our beliefs. Hopefully, if you're not too dogmatic, you'll side with Van Weyden....be an arbiter of peace and love, rather than animalistic carnivorism. Beautifully written...a classic that should be revisited.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I realy love all of Jack Londons books, and this one is good too, but it is hard because my favorite character is the Wolf. Hummphery Van weidein was not good enough of a guy for the whole setting.
BellGuginofan1 More than 1 year ago
it is okay. worth reading once. i was disappointed because i love most of his work. he is such a grest writer. but i was little let down by this one. great character in Wolf Larson. but no great character to match him. the hero's i ended up booing. no great chemistry was there between the hero and heroine. they were very naieve i felt and you would think after all Wolf put them through they would be a little more hardened or wiser for it but no just a couple of crazy intellectual kids in love in the middle of the north pacific. they were really good even great moments in the book - but they were very few and far between. recommend? yes. more than once? no.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Silently pads in trying not to be noticed.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Paddded into the clearing "Whats this about?"
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Hi....ijoined the dotty family!see ya chatting!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
For the dotty family...hi
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
If you are looking for a wolf pack then go to the Wolves of the Beyound first book. I am your girl alpha. I also need a boy wolf mate named Thunder Shadow and needs to be 12 years old. Please join my pack!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
"Thanks!" snowfrost purred. She looked around.
Steeil More than 1 year ago
Steeil to All of BloodClan! I am getting a new NOOK at my birthday, a glowlight, hopefully. Someone tell AshClan that Stormflower will becoming back at Blazing Fire res 1. I miss you all dearly, Redd, Paladyn, Paradox, my kits, and Maelstrom. Also many others. I can watch you post! Just not reply. I only get one post per book. I love you all! ~ Steeil, Co. Leader of BloodClan
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Moew moew defpfhhgeryeivwgduwugjgeggfjdjhelhxudj
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Nodded at pale
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Shut up you meany fart bag dush
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
She cracked up. "This is insanity right here. 'You are going to die, I will kill you, I will kill all of you!! Also, if it's alright with everyone, could I please join this Clan?'" xD
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Hey ya'll!!! I"m back, on the computer! -Ebony
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Glory! He is evareewhare! He is so stupid and annoying! KILL HIM ALREADY!!!!!!! Thanks! Raven
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
"Laiser. Those fu<_>cking Annex's? There were TITO'S ki<_>lling them!"
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Turned to run out
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Wakes up and looks at the unfamiliar cats. "W-where am I?" She whispered.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Sorry Para. She's still a bit sick right now. Feel free to guess again though :) Plus, does Randi have a story written? If so, l demand to know where it is right now.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
We will be refreshing all coments at 4:30pm eastern time because theres to many comments amd it is causing people not able to be in the nook store. ~BN