The Call of the Wild (1903) by Jack London

London's novel explores the theme of civilization vs. the wild in a readable, unpretentious fashion. It's often poetic and quite a beautiful read. As a dog lover I found it to be particularly compelling on an emotional level. I'm not sure if it'd have the same impact on somebody not as enamored with dogs, but otherwise I'd suggest it as a read to folks of all ages.

I liked The Call of the Wild but I found almost all of the dialogue to be stilted and unnatural. It puzzled me as to why two Frenchmen might speak to each other in their broken English instead of their native language, and I found their accents to be rather silly caricatures of what real French Canadiens sound like. Ditto to the Americans in the beginning of the novel.

On the other hand, London's narration is satisfying and at times profound:

With the aurora borealis flaming coldly overhead, or the stars leaping in the frost dance, and the land numb and frozen under its pall of snow, this song of the huskies might have been the defiance of life, only it was pitched in minor key, with long-drawn wailings and half-sobs, and was more the pleading of life, the articulate travail of existence. It was an old song, old as the breed itself—one of the first songs of the younger world in a day when songs were sad. 

He was mastered by the sheer surging of life, the tidal wave of being, the perfect joy of each separate muscle, joint, and sinew in that it was everything that was not death, that it was aglow and rampant, expressing itself in movement, flying exultantly under the stars and over the face of dead matter that did not move. 

And when, on the still cold nights, he pointed his nose at a star and howled long and wolflike, it was his ancestors, dead and dust, pointing nose at star and howling down through the centuries and through him.

It left a lasting mark on me.

I enjoyed Buck's early squabbling with pack leader Spitz, and found their machinations to be almost political in nature. I also found Buck's introduction to and later relationship with John Thornton quite touching. At times they reminded me of my bond with my own dog, a male crossbreed like Buck, to whom I feel similarly tied to. I felt Thornton to be a kindred spirit in this manner:

Other men saw to the welfare of their dogs from a sense of duty and business expediency; he saw to the welfare of his as if they were his own children, because he could not help it.

Highly recommended for dog lovers. Push past the tough scenes in the beginning; what comes later is all the more rewarding for having experienced them.

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