I honestly didn’t know what to expect when I picked up this book. Obviously, it’s about a dog, since there’s one on the cover. (As an aside: the illustrations in the book are done by Brian Moser, who also did the edition of Dracula I read. They were fabulous.) I also knew it was considered a classic. But beyond that I had no idea what to expect.
I was suitably impressed.
For those who don’t know: it’s the story of Buck, a husky. He was initially a pet, living a comfortable life in southern California, about the turn of the century, until one of his master’s servants sold him to pay off his gambling debts. Buck then found himself shipped north to Canada/Alaska, and was beaten and trained as a sled dog. He learned the ropes (unlike many “Southerner” dogs, who died from the hardship and the work), and was eventually passed through several masters. And practically run to death. He was saved by his last master, and stayed with him for while. Buck, however, became more and more restless, hearing (sorry), the call of the wild, until he finally left humanity (if that can be possible for a dog) altogether, joining the wolves in the end.
London is a tight writer — almost a poet — in that no word is wasted. There is so much packed into each sentence, into each page, that even though the book is only 111 pages long, it feels complete. There really was nothing missing, or anything superfluous. I’m also not one to enjoy pages and pages of narrative, but in this case, I was captivated. I liked how London treated the dogs, Buck especially. I felt like I knew Buck, even though he never spoke a word. He was personified for me, with emotions (fear, rage, jealousy, love), and with ambitions and desires. And the emotion of the book: it’s an adventure story, but it’s full of pain and love and anger and disappointment and happiness. I’m still amazed at how much London captured through the eyes of a dog.
I suppose this one could be easily written off as one of those English-major-only books, or perhaps one of those animal-lover-only books, but it’s not. (Since I’m neither of those….) It truly is a classic: something that can be enjoyed by everyone, on some level. It really is worth the time spent reading it.







