Jack london white fang genre. London Jack. White Fang

"White Fang"(eng. White Fang) - an adventure story by Jack London, the main character of which is a half-dog half-wolf named White Fang. The work was first published in several issues of the magazine The Outing Magazine from May to October 1906.

The book tells about the fate of a tamed wolf during the gold rush in Alaska at the end of the 19th century. At the same time, a fairly large part of the work is shown through the eyes of animals and, in particular, of the White Fang himself. The story describes different behavior and the relationship of people to animals.

Plot

White Fang's father was a wolf, and his mother, Kichi, is half wolf, half dog. He was born in the North Wilderness and was the only survivor of the entire brood. In the North, you often have to starve, and this killed his sisters and brothers. The father, a one-eyed wolf, soon dies in an unequal fight with a lynx. The cub and mother remain alone. The world is full of surprises, and one day, on the way to the stream, the wolf cub stumbles upon creatures unfamiliar to him - people. It turns out that his mother had an owner - the brother of the Indian Gray Beaver. He again becomes the owner of Kichi. He also now owns the wolf cub, to which he gives the name - White Fang.

It is difficult for White Fang to get used to a new life in the camp of the Indians: he is constantly forced to repel the attacks of dogs, he has to strictly observe the laws of people whom he considers gods, often cruel, sometimes fair. Causing only one hatred in his fellows and people and eternally at enmity with everyone, the White Fang develops quickly, but one-sidedly.

During the change of place of the camp, the White Fang runs away, but, finding himself alone, he feels fear and loneliness. Driven by them, he searches for the Indians. White Fang becomes a sled dog. After some time, he is placed at the head of the team, which further increases the hatred of his fellows, whom he rules with ferocious adamance. Hard work in the harness strengthens the strength of the White Fang, and his mental development is completed. Devotion to a person becomes a law for him, and from a wolf cub born in the wild, a dog is obtained, in which there is a lot of wolfness.

One day, after getting Gray Beaver drunk, Handsome Smith buys White Fang from him and with severe beatings makes him understand who he is. new owner. White Fang hates this crazy god, but is forced to obey him. Handsome Smith makes a real professional fighter out of White Fang and arranges dog fights. But a fight with a bulldog almost becomes fatal for White Fang. Seeing that the fight is lost, Handsome Smith beats up White Fang. The dog is rescued by a visiting engineer from the mines, Weedon Scott. Opening the bulldog's jaws with a revolver barrel, he frees White Fang from the enemy's death grip and ransoms the dog from Pretty Smith.

White Fang soon comes to his senses and shows his anger and rage to the new owner. But Scott has the patience to tame a dog with a pet. This awakens dormant feelings in White Fang. In California, White Fang has to get used to the new conditions. Shepherd Collie, who has long annoyed the dog, becomes his girlfriend, like Scott's children. Judge Scott White Fang manages to save from revenge one of those convicted by him, the inveterate criminal Jim Hall. White Fang killed Hall, but he put three bullets into the dog, in the fight the dog was broken hind leg and some ribs. After a long convalescence, all bandages are removed from White Fang, and he staggers out onto a sunny lawn and sees Collie with puppies.

Artistic features

The natural landscapes and expanses of the northern lands, endless roads, wolf packs, coastal villages, etc. act as the material environment for the heroes of the book. At the same time, the author’s laws of nature are harsh, but fair, and trouble comes precisely when a person deviates from these laws . Jack London describes in detail the psychology, motives of behavior and actions of the White Fang. The writer shows how a kind attitude and affection towards a living being teaches him to pay for love with love, and when necessary, even with his life. For White Fang, love was more precious than life.

Screen adaptations

The novel has been filmed numerous times.

• 1946 - one of the first film adaptations produced by the USSR directed by Alexander Zguridi (his directorial debut). The main roles were played by Oleg Zhakov, Elena Izmailova and Lev Sverdlin.
• 1973 - Franco-Italian film "White Fang"
• 1974 - his sequel "The Return of the White Fang".
• 1991 - US film adaptation directed by Randl Kleiser. The main roles were played

Jack London

White Fang

Part one

CHAPTER FIRST. RUN FOR LOOT

A dark spruce forest stood, frowning, on both banks icebound rivers. A recent wind had torn the white hoarfrost off the trees, and they leaned toward each other, black and ominous, in the approaching twilight. A deep silence reigned all around. This whole region, devoid of signs of life with its movement, was so deserted and cold that the spirit hovering over it could not even be called the spirit of sorrow. Laughter, but laughter more terrible than sorrow, was heard here - joyless laughter, like the smile of a sphinx, laughter, chilling with its soullessness, like a cold. This eternal wisdom - powerful, exalted above the world - laughed, seeing the futility of life, the futility of struggle. It was wilderness - wild, frozen to the very heart of the Northern Wilderness.

Yet something alive moved within her and challenged her. A team of sled dogs made their way along the frozen river. Their tousled fur was frosty in the cold, their breath froze in the air and settled in crystals on the skin. The dogs were in leather harnesses, and leather trails ran from them to the sleigh dragging behind them. The sleigh without runners, made of thick birch bark, lay on the snow with its entire surface. The front of them was turned up like a scroll to crush the soft snow waves that rose to meet them. On the sledge stood a tightly strapped narrow, oblong box. There were other things there too: clothes, an axe, a coffee pot, a frying pan; but above all, the narrow, oblong box that occupied most sleigh.

A man walked with difficulty ahead of the dogs on wide skis. Behind the sleigh was the second. On the sledge, in a box, lay the third, for whom earthly labors were over, for the Northern Wilderness overcame, broke him, so that he could no longer move or fight. The northern wilderness does not like movement. She takes up arms against life, for life is movement, and the Wilderness seeks to stop everything that moves. She freezes the water to delay her run to the sea; she sucks the juices from the tree, and his mighty heart freezes from the cold; but with particular fury and cruelty, the Northern Wilderness breaks the stubbornness of man, because man is the most rebellious creature in the world, because man always rebels against her will, according to which all movement must eventually stop.

And yet, in front of and behind the sleigh, there were two fearless and rebellious people who had not yet parted with their lives. Their clothes were made of fur and soft tanned leather. Their eyelashes, cheeks, and lips were so icy from their breath that was freezing in the air that their faces could not be seen under the icy crust. This gave them the appearance of some kind of ghostly masks, gravediggers from underworld performing the burial of a ghost. But these were not ghostly masks, but people who penetrated into the country of sorrow, mockery and silence, daredevils who put all their miserable strength into a daring plan and decided to compete with the power of the world, as distant, deserted and alien to them as the vast expanse of space. .

They walked in silence, saving their breath for walking. An almost palpable silence surrounded them on all sides. It pressed on the mind, as water at great depths presses on the body of a diver. It oppressed by the boundlessness and immutability of its law. It reached the innermost recesses of their consciousness, squeezing out of it, like the juice from grapes, everything feigned, false, every propensity for too high self-esteem, inherent in human soul, and inspired them with the idea that they are just insignificant, mortal creatures, dust particles, midges, who make their way at random, not noticing the play of the blind forces of nature.

An hour passed, another passed. The pale light of the short, dim day began to fade as a faint, distant howl swept through the stillness. He rapidly soared up, reached a high note, lingered on it, trembling, but not losing strength, and then gradually froze. It could be mistaken for the groaning of someone's lost soul, if it did not sound sullen fury and bitterness of hunger.

The man in front turned around, caught the eye of the man behind the sleigh, and they nodded to each other. And again the silence was pierced by a howl like a needle. They listened, trying to determine the direction of the sound. It was coming from those snowy expanses they had just passed.

Soon there was an answering howl, also from somewhere behind, but a little to the left.

They're after us, Bill," said the one in front. His voice sounded hoarse and unnatural, and he spoke with obvious difficulty.

They have little prey, - his comrade answered. - For many days I have not seen a single hare trace.

The travelers fell silent, listening intently to the howling that was constantly heard behind them.

As soon as darkness fell, they turned the dogs to the fir trees on the river bank and stopped for a halt. The coffin, removed from the sleigh, served them as both a table and a bench. Huddled on the other side of the fire, the dogs snarled and snarled, but showed no desire to run off into the darkness.

They are too close to the fire, - said Bill.

Henry, who had squatted down in front of the fire to set a coffee pot with a piece of ice on the fire, nodded silently. He spoke only after he sat down on the coffin and began to eat.

Protect your skin. They know that they will be fed here, and there they themselves will go to feed someone. You can't fool the dogs.

Bill shook his head.

Who knows! The comrade looked at him with curiosity.

This is the first time I hear you doubt their minds.

Henry," said Bill, chewing the beans slowly, "didn't you notice how the dogs were biting when I fed them?"

Indeed, there was more fuss than ever, ”Henry confirmed.

How many dogs do we have. Henry?

So... - Bill paused to give more weight to his words. - I also say that we have six dogs. I took six fish from the bag, gave each dog a fish. And one was not enough. Henry.

So, it's been calculated.

We have six dogs,” Bill repeated blankly. - I took six fish. One-eared fish was not enough. I had to take another fish out of the bag.

We have only six dogs,” Henry stood his ground.

Henry,” Bill continued, “I don’t say that all were dogs, but seven got the fish.

Henry stopped chewing, looked across the fire at the dogs, and counted them.

Now there are only six, he said.

The seventh ran away, I saw, ”Bill said with calm insistence. - There were seven of them.

Henry looked at him with compassion and said:

We wish we could get to the place as soon as possible.

How is this to be understood?

And so, that from this luggage that we are carrying, you yourself have become not your own, so God knows what seems to you.

I already thought about it, - Bill answered seriously. - As soon as she ran, I immediately looked at the snow and saw footprints; Then he counted the dogs - there were six of them. And the tracks are here. Do you want to take a look? Come on, I'll show you.

Henry didn't answer him and continued to chew in silence. After eating the beans, he washed them down with hot coffee, wiped his mouth with his hand, and said:

So you think it's...

A long, dreary howl did not let him finish.

He listened in silence, and then finished the sentence he had begun, pointing his finger back into the darkness:

- ... is this a guest from there?

Bill nodded.

No matter how you turn, you can't think of anything else. You yourself heard what a squabble the dogs raised.

The long-drawn-out howl was heard more and more often, response howls were heard from afar, - the silence turned into a living hell. The howling came from all sides, and the dogs huddled in fear, so close to the fire that the fire almost scorched their fur.

Bill threw wood on the fire and lit his pipe.

I can see you're really freaking out," Henry said.

Henry ... - Bill thoughtfully sucked on the phone. - I keep thinking. Henry: He's much happier than you and me. - And Bill tapped his finger on the coffin on which they sat. - When we die. Henry, it's good if at least a bunch of stones lie over our bodies so that the dogs don't eat them.

Everything beautiful is born spontaneously. For example, White Fang was spontaneously born from the pen of Jack London. Starting to create a story about the survival of people in the conditions of the Far North, London supplemented the narrative with the struggle for the existence of starving wolves, who eventually gave birth to a wolf cub for the reader, who from now on had to go from a wild animal to faithful to man friend.

The North is cruel to everyone, especially to those who try to cope with it alone. A lone man will not survive in the North, and a lone wolf will not survive either. They will both be eaten. And as long as the wolves eat dogs from the team of people wandering through the North, people will not attach any importance to this, as if what is happening for them is a simple observation of the amazing. A person is obliged to accept the conditions of life - he will have to serve as a link in the food chain. Wolves also understand these conditions, ready to become the same links. While people come to the North from outside, the North itself generates food, replenishing the lost living beings with a new brood. And now the White Fang saw the world, not yet realizing what goals he would serve.

Being a quadroon, his mother is half a dog, he is forced out of his will to reach out to people. Canine devotion dilutes the wolf's blood with its presence and discords the White Fang's understanding of the need to fight for life. Not having time to get used to the will, he has been among the Indians since childhood, bullies their dogs and shows an innate ability to cunning and finding non-standard solutions. It is in no way possible to imagine how the fate of the White Fang could have turned out if London had not decided to supplement the narrative with dog fights, and without any condemnation of such amusements, which Jack will take care of much later.

Difficult! It is insanely difficult to exist in conditions of bitterness. wild environment in its cruelty is not as severe as the desire inherent in people to amuse themselves with the help of bloody hobbies. When it comes to clarifying personal relationships, boxing will be the best show. And if you want to watch the furious fury of creatures doomed to death, then there is nothing more ferocious than the battle of embittered dogs. White Fang was forced to tear dogs for the amusement of the crowd, London was not going to offer him any other choice.

Are there good intentions? Without them, it would be very sad. Man is a beast, but there is also a positive beginning in him, giving hope for a favorable outcome of any madness. It is worth asking the White Fang himself which road he should take. And then he has no choice. Although London is different situations represents animals in stories, moreover, having similar fates. White Fang came out subject to foreign influence and existence in the name of the ideals of the people around him. He is deprived of the desire for independence, he does not even strive to survive, continuing to exist for the sake of existence, attaching no importance to anything.

He is a quarter wolf. And from the wolf in him there is only appearance, strength and cunning. Otherwise, White Fang is a dog. And even though you don’t feed him, he will still deify a person, completely trusting him with all of himself. If you need to expose yourself to bullets, White Fang will not think. And they will order to gnaw on animals - they will gnaw them. That is his nature. London did not begin to display wolf habits in the plot, since the narrative would have to be built differently, possibly without human participation.

The White Fang will not remember the past. He doesn't think about tomorrow. So it will remain incomprehensible why the White Fang was so passive. He became a toy in the hands of the writer and, at his request, lost the desire to survive. After going through a series of troubles, the White Fang will find peace in warmth and comfort, where he will finally acquire a kennel. It cannot be otherwise - it was not created for the Far North.

CHAPTER FIRST
RUN FOR LOOT

A dark spruce forest stood, frowning, on both sides of the ice-bound river. A recent wind had torn the white hoarfrost off the trees, and they leaned toward each other, black and ominous, in the approaching twilight. A deep silence reigned all around. This whole region, devoid of signs of life with its movement, was so deserted and cold that the spirit hovering over it could not even be called the spirit of sorrow. Laughter, but laughter more terrible than sorrow, was heard here - joyless laughter, like the smile of a sphinx, laughter, chilling with its soullessness, like a cold. This eternal wisdom - powerful, exalted above the world - laughed, seeing the futility of life, the futility of struggle. It was wilderness - wild, frozen to the very heart of the Northern Wilderness.

Yet something alive moved within her and challenged her. A team of sled dogs made their way along the frozen river. Their tousled fur was frosty in the cold, their breath froze in the air and settled in crystals on the skin. The dogs were in leather harnesses, and leather trails ran from them to the sleigh dragging behind them. The sleigh without runners, made of thick birch bark, lay on the snow with its entire surface. The front of them was turned up like a scroll to crush the soft snow waves that rose to meet them. On the sledge stood a tightly strapped narrow, oblong box. There were other things there too: clothes, an axe, a coffee pot, a frying pan; but above all, the narrow oblong box that occupied most of the sleigh caught the eye.

A man walked with difficulty ahead of the dogs on wide skis. Behind the sleigh was the second. On the sledge, in a box, lay the third, for whom earthly labors were over, for the Northern Wilderness overcame, broke him, so that he could no longer move or fight. The northern wilderness does not like movement. She takes up arms against life, for life is movement, and the Wilderness seeks to stop everything that moves. She freezes the water to delay her run to the sea; she sucks the juices from the tree, and his mighty heart freezes from the cold; but with particular fury and cruelty, the Northern Wilderness breaks the stubbornness of man, because man is the most rebellious creature in the world, because man always rebels against her will, according to which all movement must eventually stop.

And yet, in front of and behind the sleigh, there were two fearless and rebellious people who had not yet parted with their lives. Their clothes were made of fur and soft tanned leather. Their eyelashes, cheeks, and lips were so icy from their breath that was freezing in the air that their faces could not be seen under the icy crust. This gave them the appearance of some kind of ghostly masks, gravediggers from the other world, performing the burial of a ghost. But these were not ghostly masks, but people who penetrated into the country of sorrow, mockery and silence, daredevils who put all their miserable strength into a daring plan and decided to compete with the power of the world, as distant, deserted and alien to them as the vast expanse of space. .

They walked in silence, saving their breath for walking. An almost palpable silence surrounded them on all sides. It pressed on the mind, as water at great depths presses on the body of a diver. It oppressed by the boundlessness and immutability of its law. It reached the innermost recesses of their consciousness, squeezing out of it, like the juice from grapes, everything feigned, false, every tendency to too high self-esteem inherent in the human soul, and inspired them with the idea that they were just insignificant, mortal beings, dust particles, midges that make their way at random, not noticing the play of the blind forces of nature.

An hour passed, another passed. The pale light of the short, dim day began to fade as a faint, distant howl swept through the stillness. He rapidly soared up, reached a high note, lingered on it, trembling, but not losing strength, and then gradually froze. It could be mistaken for the groaning of someone's lost soul, if it did not sound sullen fury and bitterness of hunger.

The man in front turned around, caught the eye of the man behind the sleigh, and they nodded to each other. And again the silence was pierced by a howl like a needle. They listened, trying to determine the direction of the sound. It was coming from those snowy expanses they had just passed.

Soon there was an answering howl, also from somewhere behind, but a little to the left.

They're after us, Bill," said the one in front. His voice sounded hoarse and unnatural, and he spoke with obvious difficulty.

They have little prey, - his comrade answered. - For many days I have not seen a single hare track.

The travelers fell silent, listening intently to the howling that was constantly heard behind them.

As soon as darkness fell, they turned the dogs to the fir trees on the river bank and stopped for a halt. The coffin, removed from the sleigh, served them as both a table and a bench. Huddled on the other side of the fire, the dogs snarled and snarled, but showed no desire to run off into the darkness.

They are too close to the fire, - said Bill.

Henry, who had squatted down in front of the fire to set a coffee pot with a piece of ice on the fire, nodded silently. He spoke only after he sat down on the coffin and began to eat.

Protect your skin. They know that they will be fed here, and there they themselves will go to feed someone. You can't fool the dogs.

Bill shook his head.

Who knows!

The comrade looked at him with curiosity.

This is the first time I hear you doubt their minds.

Henry,” said Bill, slowly chewing his

would - and you did not notice how the dogs squabbled when I fed them?

White Fang's father is a wolf, and his mother, Kichi, is half wolf and half dog. As of yet, he doesn't have a name. He was born in the North Wilderness and was the only survivor of the entire brood. In the North, you often have to starve, and this killed his sisters and brothers. The father, a one-eyed wolf, soon dies in an unequal battle with a lynx. The wolf cub and mother are left alone, he often accompanies the she-wolf to hunt and soon begins to comprehend the "law of prey": eat - or they will eat you yourself. The wolf cub cannot articulate it clearly, but simply lives by it. Besides the law of prey, there are many others that must be obeyed. The life that plays in the wolf cub, the forces that control his body, serve him as an inexhaustible source of happiness.

The world is full of surprises, and one day, on the way to the stream, the wolf cub stumbles upon creatures unfamiliar to him - people. He does not run away, but crouches to the ground, "fettered by fear and ready to express the humility with which his distant ancestor went to a man to warm himself at the fire he had lit." One of the Indians comes closer, and when his hand touches the wolf cub, he grabs it with his teeth and immediately gets hit on the head. The wolf cub whines in pain and horror, the mother hurries to help him, and suddenly one of the Indians shouts imperatively: "Kichi!" in again hunger came. The fearless mother wolf, to the horror and amazement of the wolf cub, crawls towards the Indian on her belly. Gray Beaver becomes Kichi's master again. He also now owns the wolf cub, to which he gives the name - White Fang.

It is difficult for White Fang to get used to a new life in the camp of the Indians: he is constantly forced to repel the attacks of dogs, he has to strictly observe the laws of people whom he considers gods, often cruel, sometimes fair. He learns that "the body of a god is sacred" and never tries to bite a human again. Causing only one hatred in his fellows and people and eternally at enmity with everyone, the White Fang develops quickly, but one-sidedly. With such a life, neither good feelings nor the need for affection can arise in him. But in agility and cunning no one can compare with him; he runs faster than all the other dogs, and he knows how to fight more wickedly, fiercer and smarter than them. Otherwise, he will not survive. During the change of place of the camp, the White Fang runs away, but, finding himself alone, he feels fear and loneliness. Driven by them, he searches for the Indians. White Fang becomes a sled dog. After some time, he is placed at the head of the team, which further increases the hatred towards him of his fellows, whom he rules with ferocious adamance. Hard work in the harness strengthens the strength of the White Fang, and his mental development is completed. The world around is harsh and cruel, and the White Fang has no illusions about this. Devotion to a person becomes a law for him, and a wolf cub born in the wild turns into a dog in which there is a lot of wolfness, and yet this is a dog, not a wolf.

Gray Beaver brings several bales of furs and a bale of moccasins and mittens to Fort Yukon, hoping for a big profit. After evaluating the demand for his product, he decides to trade slowly, just not to sell too cheap. At Fort, White Fang sees white people for the first time, and they seem to him to be gods with even greater power than the Indians. But the morals of the gods in the North are rather rude. One of my favorite pastimes is the fights that local dogs with dogs that had just arrived with new owners on a steamboat. In this occupation, the White Fang has no equal. Among the old-timers there is a man who takes special pleasure in dog fights. This is a vicious, miserable coward and a freak who does all kinds of dirty work, nicknamed Handsome Smith. One day, after getting Gray Beaver drunk, Handsome Smith buys White Fang from him and with severe beatings makes him understand who his new owner is. White Fang hates this crazy god, but is forced to obey him. Handsome Smith makes a real professional fighter out of White Fang and arranges dog fights. For the hate-maddened, hunted White Fang, the fight becomes the only way prove himself, he invariably comes out the winner, and Handsome Smith collects money from spectators who lose the bet. But a fight with a bulldog almost becomes fatal for White Fang. The bulldog clings to his chest and, without opening his jaws, hangs on him, intercepting his teeth higher and closer to his throat. Seeing that the battle is lost, Handsome Smith, having lost the remnants of his mind, begins to beat the White Fang and stomp him with his feet. The dog is rescued by a tall young man, a visiting engineer from the mines, Weedon Scott. Opening the bulldog's jaws with the help of a revolver muzzle, he frees the White Fang from the deadly grip of the enemy. Then he buys the dog from Pretty Smith.

White Fang soon comes to his senses and demonstrates his anger and rage to the new owner. But Scott has the patience to tame the dog with a caress, and it awakens in White Fang all those feelings that were dormant and already half-deaf in him. Scott sets out to reward the White Fang for all that he had to endure, "to atone for the sin that man was guilty of before him." The White Fang pays for love with love. He also learns the sorrows inherent in love - when the owner leaves unexpectedly, the White Fang loses interest in everything in the world and is ready to die. And when Scott returns, for the first time, he comes up and presses his head against him. One evening, growls and screams are heard near Scott's house. It was Beauty Smith who tried unsuccessfully to take White Fang away, but paid a heavy price for it. Weedon Scott has to return home to California, and at first he is not going to take the dog with him - he is unlikely to endure life in a hot climate. But the closer the departure, the more worried White Fang, and the engineer hesitates, but still leaves the dog. But when White Fang, breaking the window, gets out of the locked house and resorts to the gangway of the steamer, Scott's heart breaks.

In California, White Fang has to get used to completely new conditions, and he succeeds. Shepherd Collie, who has long annoyed the dog, eventually becomes his girlfriend. White Fang begins to love Scott's kids, he also likes Whedon's father, the judge. Judge Scott White Fang manages to save from revenge one of those convicted by him, the inveterate criminal Jim Hall. White Fang killed Hall, but he put three bullets into the dog, in the fight the dog's hind leg and several ribs were broken. Doctors believe that White Fang has no chance of survival, but "The northern wilderness rewarded him iron organism and vitality." After a long convalescence, White Fang is stripped of his last plaster cast, the last bandage, and he staggers out onto the sunny lawn. Puppies crawl up to the dog, him and Collie, and he, lying in the sun, slowly sinks into a nap.

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