The novel "sea wolf". Sea Wolf (novel) Sea Wolf Jack London briefly

Novel "Sea Wolf"- one of the most famous "marine" works of the American writer Jack London. Behind the outer features of adventure romance in the novel "Sea Wolf" hides a critique of the militant individualism of the "strong man", his contempt for people, based on a blind faith in himself as an exceptional person - a faith that can sometimes cost a life.

Novel "Sea Wolf" by Jack London was published in 1904. The action of the novel "Sea Wolf" takes place in the late XIX - early XX century in the Pacific Ocean. Humphrey Van Weyden, a San Francisco resident and renowned literary critic, goes to visit his friend on a ferry across the Golden Gate Bay and is shipwrecked. The sailors of the Ghost ship, led by the captain, whom everyone on board calls Wolf Larsen.

According to the plot of the novel "Sea Wolf" main character Wolf Larsen, on a small schooner with a crew of 22, goes to harvest fur seal skins in the Pacific North and takes Van Weyden with him, despite his desperate protests. Vessel captain Wolf Larson is a tough, strong, uncompromising person. Having become a simple sailor on a ship, Van Weyden has to do all the dirty work, but he will cope with all the difficult trials, he is helped by love in the face of a girl who was also saved during a shipwreck. On the ship they obey physical strength and authority wolf Larsen, so for any misconduct the captain immediately severely punishes. However, the captain favors Van Weyden, starting with the cook's assistant, "Hump" as he was nicknamed. Wolf Larsen, makes a career to the position of senior mate, although at first he does not understand anything in the maritime business. Wolf Larsen and Van Weyden find common ground in areas of literature and philosophy that are not foreign to them, and the captain has a small library on board where Van Weyden discovered Browning and Swinburne. And in my free time Wolf Lasren optimizes navigation calculations.

The crew of the Ghost chases the fur seals and picks up another group of victims of distress, including a woman - the poet Maud Brewster. At first glance, the hero of the novel "Sea Wolf" Humphrey is attracted to Maude. They decide to flee the Ghost. Having seized a boat with a small supply of food, they flee, and after several weeks of wandering the ocean, they find land and land on a small island, which they called the Island of Effort. Since they have no opportunity to leave the island, they are preparing for a long winter.

The wrecked schooner "Ghost" is nailed to the island of Effort by waves, on board of which it turns out Wolf Larsen, blinded by a progressive brain disease. According to the story wolf his crew rebelled against the arbitrariness of the captain and fled to another ship to the mortal enemy wolf Larsen to his brother named Death Larsen, so the Ghost, with broken masts, drifted in the ocean until it was washed up on Effort Island. By the will of fate, it was on this island that the blind captain Wolf Larsen discovers a seal rookery he's been looking for all his life. Maude and Humphrey use incredible efforts to get the Ghost in order and take him out to sea. Wolf Larsen, whose senses are consistently denied after vision, is paralyzed and dies. The moment Maude and Humphrey finally discover a rescue ship in the ocean, they confess their love for each other.

In the novel "Sea Wolf" Jack London demonstrates a perfect knowledge of seamanship, navigation and sailing rigging, which he learned in those days when he was a sailor on a fishing vessel in his youth. Into the novel "Sea Wolf" Jack London invested all his love for the sea element. His landscapes in the novel "Sea Wolf" amaze the reader with the skill of their description, as well as with their truthfulness and magnificence.

Chapter I

I don't know how or where to start. Sometimes, jokingly, I blame Charlie Faraset for everything that happened. In the Mill Valley, under the shadow of Mount Tamalpai, he had a dacha, but he came there only in winter and rested reading Nietzsche and Schopenhauer. And in the summer, he preferred to evaporate in the dusty closeness of the city, straining from work.

Had it not been for my habit of visiting him every Saturday at noon and staying with him until the following Monday morning, this extraordinary January Monday morning would not have found me in the waves of San Francisco Bay.

And it didn't happen because I boarded a bad ship; no, the Martinez was a new steamboat and only made its fourth or fifth voyage between Sausalito and San Francisco. The danger lurked in the thick fog that enveloped the bay, and of whose treachery I, as a land dweller, knew little.

I remember the calm joy with which I sat down on the upper deck, near the pilothouse, and how the fog captured my imagination with its mystery.

A fresh sea wind was blowing, and for some time I was alone in the damp darkness, though not quite alone, for I vaguely felt the presence of the pilot and what I took to be the captain in the glass house above my head.

I remember how I thought then about the convenience of the division of labor, which made it unnecessary for me to study fogs, winds, currents and all marine science if I wanted to visit a friend who lives on the other side of the bay. "It's good that people are divided into specialties," I thought half asleep. The knowledge of the pilot and the captain saved several thousand people who knew no more about the sea and about navigation than I did. On the other hand, instead of wasting my energy on studying many things, I could focus it on a few and more important things, such as analyzing the question: what place does the writer Edgar Allan Poe occupy in American literature? - by the way, the topic of my article in the latest issue of the Atlantic magazine.

When, boarding the steamer, I passed through the cabin, I noticed with pleasure a stout man who was reading the Atlantic, open just on my article. Here again there was a division of labor: the special knowledge of the pilot and the captain allowed the complete gentleman, while he was being transported from Sausalito to San Francisco, to get acquainted with my special knowledge about the writer Poe.

A red-faced passenger, loudly slamming the cabin door behind him and stepping out on deck, interrupted my reflections, and I had only time to note in my mind the topic for a future article entitled: “The need for freedom. A word in defense of the artist.

The red-faced man cast a glance at the pilot's house, stared intently at the fog, hobbled, stomping loudly, back and forth on the deck (he apparently had artificial limbs) and stood next to me, legs wide apart, with an expression of obvious pleasure on face. I was not mistaken when I decided that his whole life was spent at sea.

“Such bad weather involuntarily makes people gray-haired ahead of time,” he said, nodding at the pilot who was standing in his booth.

“And I didn’t think that special tension was required here,” I answered, “it seems that it’s just like twice two makes four.” They know compass direction, distance and speed. All this is exactly like mathematics.

- Direction! he objected. - Simple as twice two; just like math! He steadied himself on his feet and leaned back to look straight at me.

“And what do you think about this current that is now rushing through the Golden Gate?” Do you know the power of the tide? - he asked. “Look how fast the schooner is being carried. Hear the buoy ringing as we head straight for it. Look, they have to change course.

A mournful ringing of bells came from the mist, and I saw the pilot quickly turn the wheel. The bell, which seemed to be somewhere right in front of us, now rang from the side. Our own horn blew hoarsely, and from time to time we heard the horns of other steamers through the mist.

“It must be the passenger one,” the newcomer said, drawing my attention to the whistle coming from the right. - And there, do you hear? This is spoken through a loudmouth, probably from a flat-bottomed schooner. Yes, I thought so! Hey you, on the schooner! Look at both! Well, now one of them will crackle.

The invisible ship blew horn after horn, and the horn sounded as if stricken with terror.

“And now they are exchanging greetings and trying to disperse,” continued the red-faced man, when the alarm horns stopped.

His face shone and his eyes sparkled with excitement as he translated all those horns and sirens into human language.

- And this is the siren of the steamer, heading to the left. Do you hear this fellow with a frog in his throat? It's a steam schooner, as far as I can tell, going against the current.

A shrill, thin whistle, screeching as if he had gone berserk, was heard ahead, very close to us. The gongs sounded on the Martinez. Our wheels have stopped. Their pulsing beats stopped and then started again. A screeching whistle, like the chirping of a cricket amidst the roar of large beasts, came from the mist to the side, and then became weaker and weaker.

I looked at my interlocutor for clarification.

"It's one of those devilishly desperate longboats," he said. - I even, perhaps, would like to sink this shell. From such something and there are different troubles. And what's the use of them? Every scoundrel sits on such a launch, drives him both in the tail and in the mane. Desperately whistles, wanting to slip among others, and squeaks to the whole world to avoid it. He cannot save himself. And you have to look both ways. Get out of my way! This is the most elementary decency. And they just don't know it.

I was amused by his incomprehensible anger, and as he hobbled back and forth indignantly, I admired the romantic mist. And it was really romantic, this fog, like a gray phantom of an endless mystery, a fog that enveloped the shores in clubs. And people, these sparks, possessed by a mad craving for work, rushed through him on their steel and wooden horses, penetrating the very heart of his secret, blindly making their way through the invisible and calling to each other in careless chatter, while their hearts sank with uncertainty and fear. The voice and laughter of my companion brought me back to reality. I, too, groped and stumbled, believing that with open and clear eyes I was walking through a mystery.

– Hello! Someone crosses our path,” he said. - You hear? Goes full steam ahead. It's heading straight for us. He probably doesn't hear us yet. Carried by the wind.

A fresh breeze was blowing in our faces, and I could clearly hear the horn from the side, a little ahead of us.

– Passenger? I asked.

“I don’t really want to click on him!” He chuckled derisively. - And we got busy.

I looked up. The captain poked his head and shoulders out of the pilot house and peered into the mist as if he could pierce it with sheer force of will. His face expressed the same concern as the face of my companion, who approached the railing and looked with intense attention towards the invisible danger.

Then everything happened with incredible speed. The fog suddenly dissipated, as if split by a wedge, and the skeleton of a steamer emerged from it, pulling wisps of fog behind it from both sides, like seaweed on the trunk of a Leviathan. I saw a pilot house and a man with a white beard leaning out of it. He was dressed in a blue uniform jacket, and I remember that he seemed to me handsome and calm. His calmness under these circumstances was even terrible. He met his fate, walked with her hand in hand, calmly measuring her blow. Bending down, he looked at us without any anxiety, with an attentive look, as if he wanted to determine with accuracy the place where we were supposed to collide, and paid absolutely no attention when our pilot, pale with rage, shouted:

- Well, rejoice, you did your job!

Recalling the past, I see that the remark was so true that one could hardly expect objections to it.

“Grab something and hang on,” the red-faced man said to me. All his vehemence vanished, and he seemed to be infected with a supernatural calmness.

“Listen to the screams of the women,” he continued gloomily, almost viciously, and it seemed to me that he had once experienced a similar incident.

The steamboats collided before I could follow his advice. We must have received a blow to the very center, because I could no longer see anything: the alien steamer had disappeared from my circle of vision. The Martinez banked sharply, and then there was a crack of torn skin. I was thrown back on the wet deck and barely had time to jump to my feet, I heard the plaintive cries of women. I am sure that it was these indescribable, chilling sounds that infected me with general panic. I remembered the life belt I had hidden in my cabin, but at the door I was met and thrown back by a wild stream of men and women. What happened for the next few minutes, I could not figure out at all, although I clearly remember that I dragged life buoys down from the upper rail, and the red-faced passenger helped the hysterically screaming women to put them on. The memory of this picture remained in me more clearly and distinctly than anything in my entire life.

This is how the scene played out, which I still see before me.

The jagged edges of a hole in the side of the cabin, through which the gray mist rushed in swirling puffs; empty soft seats, on which lay evidence of a sudden flight: packages, handbags, umbrellas, bundles; a stout gentleman who read my article, and now wrapped in cork and canvas, still with the same magazine in his hands, asking me with monotonous insistence whether I think there is a danger; a red-faced passenger staggering bravely on his artificial legs and throwing life belts on all the passing by, and, finally, the bedlam of women howling in despair.

The scream of the women got on my nerves the most. The same, apparently, oppressed the red-faced passenger, because there is another picture in front of me, which also will never be erased from my memory. The fat gentleman thrusts the magazine into the pocket of his coat and strangely, as if with curiosity, looks around. A huddled crowd of women with distorted pale faces and open mouths screams like a choir of lost souls; and the red-faced passenger, now with a face purple with anger and with his hands raised above his head, as if he was about to throw thunderbolts, shouts:

- Shut up! Stop it, finally!

I remember that this scene made me suddenly laugh, and the next moment I realized that I was getting hysterical; these women, full of fear of death and not wanting to die, were close to me, like a mother, like sisters.

And I remember that the cries they uttered suddenly reminded me of pigs under a butcher's knife, and this resemblance horrified me with its brightness. Women capable of the most beautiful feelings and tenderest affections now stood with their mouths open and screamed at the top of their lungs. They wanted to live, they were helpless like trapped rats, and they were all screaming.

The horror of this scene drove me to the upper deck. I felt ill and sat down on the bench. I vaguely saw and heard people screaming past me towards the lifeboats, trying to lower them on their own. It was exactly the same as what I read in books when scenes like this were described. The blocks were broken. Everything was out of order. We managed to lower one boat, but it turned out to be a leak; overloaded with women and children, it filled with water and turned over. Another boat was lowered on one end and the other stuck on a block. There was no trace of the strange steamer that had caused the misfortune; I heard it said that, in any case, he should send his boats for us.

I went down to the lower deck. "Martinez" quickly went to the bottom, and it was clear that the end was near. Many passengers began to throw themselves into the sea overboard. Others, in the water, begged to be taken back. Nobody paid any attention to them. There were screams that we were drowning. A panic set in, which seized me too, and I, with a whole stream of other bodies, rushed overboard. How I flew over it, I positively do not know, although I understood at that very moment why those who had thrown themselves into the water before me were so eager to return to the top. The water was painfully cold. When I plunged into it, it was as if I was burned by fire, and at the same time, the cold penetrated me to the marrow of my bones. It was like a fight with death. I gasped from the sharp pain in my lungs underwater until the life belt carried me back to the surface of the sea. I tasted salt in my mouth, and something was squeezing my throat and chest.

But worst of all was the cold. I felt I could only live for a few minutes. People fought for life around me; many went down. I heard them cry for help and heard the splash of the oars. Obviously, someone else's steamer still lowered their boats. Time passed and I was amazed that I was still alive. I did not lose sensation in the lower half of my body, but a chilling numbness enveloped my heart and crawled into it.

Small waves with viciously foaming scallops rolled over me, flooded my mouth and caused more and more attacks of suffocation. The sounds around me were becoming indistinct, although I did hear the last, desperate cry of the crowd in the distance: now I knew that the Martinez had sunk. Later - how much later, I do not know - I came to my senses from the horror that seized me. I was alone. I heard no more cries for help. There was only the sound of the waves, fantastically rising and shimmering in the fog. Panic in a crowd united by some common interest is not so terrible as fear in solitude, and such fear I now experienced. Where was the current taking me? The red-faced passenger said that the current of low tide was rushing through the Golden Gate. So I was being swept out to the open ocean? And the life belt I was swimming in? Couldn't it burst and fall apart every minute? I have heard that belts are sometimes made of simple paper and dry reeds, which soon become saturated with water and lose their ability to stay on the surface. And I couldn't swim a single foot without it. And I was alone, rushing somewhere among the gray primeval elements. I confess that madness took possession of me: I began to scream loudly, as women had previously screamed, and pounded on the water with numb hands.

How long this went on, I do not know, for oblivion came to the rescue, from which there are no more memories than from a disturbing and painful dream. When I came to my senses, it seemed to me that whole centuries had passed. Almost above my head, the prow of a ship floated out of the mist, and three triangular sails, one above the other, billowed tightly from the wind. Where the bow cut the water, the sea boiled up with foam and gurgled, and it seemed that I was in the very path of the ship. I tried to scream, but from weakness I could not make a single sound. The nose dived down, almost touching me, and doused me with a stream of water. Then the long black side of the ship began to slide past so close that I could touch it with my hand. I tried to reach him, with insane determination to cling to the tree with my nails, but my hands were heavy and lifeless. Again I tried to scream, but just as unsuccessfully as the first time.

Then the stern of the ship swept past me, now sinking, now rising in the hollows between the waves, and I saw a man standing at the helm, and another who seemed to be doing nothing but smoking a cigar. I saw smoke coming out of his mouth as he slowly turned his head and looked over the water in my direction. It was a careless, aimless look - that's how a person looks in moments of complete rest, when no next business awaits him, and the thought lives and works by itself.

But that look was life and death for me. I saw that the ship was about to sink into the fog, I saw the back of a sailor at the helm, and the head of another man slowly turning in my direction, I saw how his gaze fell on the water and accidentally touched me. There was such an absent expression on his face, as if he were occupied with some deep thought, and I was afraid that if his eyes glided over me, he would still not see me. But his gaze suddenly landed on me. He peered intently and noticed me, because he immediately jumped to the steering wheel, pushed the helmsman away and began to turn the wheel with both hands, shouting some command. It seemed to me that the ship changed direction, hiding in the fog.

I felt like I was losing consciousness, and I tried to exert all my willpower so as not to succumb to the dark oblivion that enveloped me. A little later I heard the stroke of the oars on the water, coming closer and closer, and someone's exclamations. And then, quite close, I heard someone shout: “Why the hell don’t you answer?” I realized that it was about me, but oblivion and darkness engulfed me.

Chapter II

It seemed to me that I was swinging in the majestic rhythm of the world space. Glittering points of light swirled around me. I knew it was the stars and the bright comet that accompanied my flight. When I reached the limit of my swing and prepared to fly back, there was a sound of a big gong. For an immeasurable period, in a stream of calm centuries, I enjoyed my terrible flight, trying to comprehend it. But some change happened in my dream - I told myself that this must be a dream. The swings got shorter and shorter. I was thrown with annoying speed. I could hardly catch my breath, so fiercely I was thrown across the sky. The gong rang faster and louder. I was waiting for him already with indescribable fear. Then it began to seem to me as if I was being dragged along sand, white, heated by the sun. It caused unbearable pain. My skin was on fire, as if it had been burned on a fire. The gong rang like a death knell. Luminous dots flowed in an endless stream, as if the entire star system was pouring into the void. I gasped for breath, painfully catching the air, and suddenly opened my eyes. Two people on their knees were doing something to me. The mighty rhythm that rocked me to and fro was the raising and lowering of the ship in the sea as it rolled. The gong was a frying pan that hung on the wall. It rumbled and strummed with every shake of the ship on the waves. Rough and body-rending sand turned out to be hard male hands, rubbing my bare chest. I screamed in pain and raised my head. My chest was raw and red, and I saw blood droplets on the inflamed skin.

“All right, Jonson,” one of the men said. “Don't you see how we skinned this gentleman?

The man they called Jonson, a heavy Scandinavian type, stopped rubbing me and awkwardly got to his feet. The one who spoke to him was obviously a true Londoner, a real Cockney, with pretty, almost feminine features. He, of course, sucked in the sounds of the bells of Bow Church along with his mother's milk. The dirty linen cap on his head and the dirty sack tied to his thin thighs as an apron suggested that he was the cook in the filthy ship's kitchen where I regained consciousness.

How do you feel, sir, now? he asked with a searching smile, which is developed in a number of generations who received a tip.

Instead of answering, I sat up with difficulty and, with the help of Jonson, tried to get to my feet. The rumbling and thumping of the frying pan scratched my nerves. I couldn't collect my thoughts. Leaning against the kitchen's wood paneling—I must admit that the layer of lard that covered it made me grit my teeth—I walked past a row of boiling cauldrons, reached the restless pan, unhooked it, and tossed it with pleasure into the charcoal box.

The cook grinned at this display of nervousness and shoved a steaming mug into my hands.

“Here, sir,” he said, “it will do you good.”

There was a sickening mixture in the mug - ship's coffee - but the warmth of it turned out to be life-giving. Swallowing the brew, I glanced at my skinned and bleeding chest, then turned to the Scandinavian:

“Thank you, Mr. Jonson,” I said, “but don't you think that your measures were somewhat heroic?

He understood my reproach more from my movements than from words, and, raising his hand, began to examine it. She was all covered in hard calluses. I ran my hand over the horny protrusions, and my teeth clenched again as I felt their terrifying hardness.

“My name is Johnson, not Jonson,” he said in very good, though slow-voiced, English with a barely audible accent.

A slight protest flickered in his light blue eyes, and in them a frankness and masculinity shone, which immediately disposed me in his favor.

“Thank you, Mr. Johnson,” I amended, and held out my hand for a shake.

He hesitated, awkward and shy, stepped from one foot to the other, and then shook my hand warmly and cordially.

Do you have any dry clothes that I could put on? I turned to the chef.

"There will be," he replied with cheerful liveliness. “Now I will run downstairs and rummage through my dowry, if you, sir, of course, do not hesitate to put on my things.

He jumped out of the kitchen door, or rather slipped out of it, with catlike agility and softness: he glided noiselessly, as if coated with oil. These soft movements, as I was later to observe, were the most characteristic feature of his person.

- Where I am? I asked Johnson, whom I correctly took to be a sailor. What is this ship and where is it going?

"We've left the Farallon Islands, heading roughly southwest," he answered slowly and methodically, as if groping for expressions in his best English and trying not to stray from the order of my questions. - The schooner "Ghost" is following the seals towards Japan.

- Who is the captain? I have to see him as soon as I change my clothes.

Johnson was embarrassed and looked worried. He did not dare to answer until he had mastered his vocabulary and formed a complete answer in his mind.

“The captain is Wolf Larsen, that’s what everyone calls him, at least. I have never heard it called anything else. But you talk to him more kindly. He is not himself today. His assistant...

But he didn't finish. The cook slipped into the kitchen as if on skates.

“Don’t you get out of here as soon as possible, Jonson,” he said. “Perhaps the old man will miss you on deck. Don't piss him off today.

Johnson obediently moved to the door, encouraging me behind the cook's back with an amusingly solemn and somewhat sinister wink, as if to emphasize his interrupted remark that I needed to be gentle with the captain.

On the cook's hand hung a crumpled and worn vestment of a rather vile appearance, reeking of some kind of sour smell.

“The dress was put in wet, sir,” he deigned to explain. “But somehow you can manage until I dry your clothes on the fire.”

Leaning against the wooden lining, stumbling from time to time from the ship's rolling, with the help of the cook, I put on a coarse woolen jersey. At that very moment my body shrank and ache from the prickly touch. The cook noticed my involuntary twitches and grimaces and grinned.

“I hope, sir, that you will never have to wear such clothes again. Your skin is amazingly soft, softer than a lady's; I have never seen one like yours. I knew right away that you were a real gentleman the first minute I saw you here.

I didn't like him from the start, and as he helped me dress, my dislike of him grew. There was something repulsive about his touch. I cringed under his arms, my body indignant. And so, and especially because of the smells from the various pots that boiled and gurgled on the stove, I was in a hurry to get out into the fresh air as soon as possible. In addition, I had to see the captain in order to discuss with him how to land me on the shore.

A cheap paper shirt with a tattered collar and a faded chest and something else that I took for old traces of blood was put on me in the midst of a continuous flow of apologies and explanations for a single minute. My feet were in rough work boots, and my trousers were pale blue and faded, with one leg about ten inches shorter than the other. The cropped trouser leg made one think that the devil was trying to bite the cook's soul through it and caught the shadow instead of the essence.

Whom should I thank for this courtesy? I asked, putting on all these rags. On my head was a tiny boyish hat, and instead of a jacket, there was a dirty striped jacket that ended above the waist, with sleeves up to the elbows.

The cook straightened up respectfully with a searching smile. I could have sworn that he expected to get a tip from me. Subsequently, I became convinced that this posture was unconscious: it was an obsequiousness inherited from the ancestors.

“Mugridge, sir,” he said, his feminine features breaking into an oily smile. “Thomas Mugridge, sir, at your service.

“All right, Thomas,” I continued, “when my clothes are dry, I won’t forget you.

A soft light spilled over his face, and his eyes shone, as if somewhere in the depths of his ancestors stirred in him vague memories of tips received in previous existences.

“Thank you, sir,” he said respectfully.

The door swung open noiselessly, he deftly slid to the side, and I went out on deck.

I still felt weak after a long bath. A gust of wind hit me, and I hobbled along the rocking deck to the corner of the cabin, clinging to it so as not to fall. Heeling heavily, the schooner then fell, then rose on a long Pacific wave. If the schooner was going, as Johnson said, to the southwest, then the wind was blowing, in my opinion, from the south. The fog vanished and the sun appeared, shining on the rippling surface of the sea. I looked to the east, where I knew California was, but saw nothing but low-lying sheets of fog, the same fog that no doubt caused the Martinez to crash and plunged me into my present condition. To the north, not very far from us, rose a group of bare rocks above the sea; on one of them I noticed a lighthouse. To the southwest, in almost the same direction as we were going, I saw the vague outlines of the triangular sails of a ship.

Having finished the survey of the horizon, I turned my eyes to what surrounded me close. My first thought was that a man who had suffered a crash and touched death shoulder to shoulder deserved more attention than I was given here. Apart from the sailor at the helm, peering curiously at me over the roof of the cabin, no one paid any attention to me.

Everyone seemed to be interested in what was going on in the middle of the schooner. There, on the hatch, some overweight man was lying on his back. He was dressed, but his shirt was torn in front. However, his skin was not visible: his chest was almost completely covered with a mass of black hair, similar to dog fur. His face and neck were hidden under a black and gray beard, which would probably have appeared coarse and bushy if it had not been stained with something sticky and if water had not dripped from it. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be unconscious; the mouth was wide open, and the chest heaved up, as if it lacked air; breath rushed out with noise. One sailor from time to time, methodically, as if doing the most usual thing, lowered a canvas pail on a rope into the ocean, pulled it out, intercepting the rope with his hands, and poured water on a man lying motionless.

Walking up and down the deck, chewing ferociously on the end of his cigar, was the same man whose chance glance had rescued me from the depths of the sea. He must have been five feet ten inches, or half an inch more, but he struck not with his height, but with that extraordinary strength that you felt at the first glance at him. Although he had broad shoulders and a high chest, I would not call him massive: he felt the strength of hardened muscles and nerves, which we are inclined to attribute usually to people who are dry and thin; and in him this strength, due to his heavy constitution, resembled something like the strength of a gorilla. At the same time, he didn't look like a gorilla at all. I mean, his strength was something beyond his physical features. It was the power we attribute to ancient, simplified times, which we are accustomed to associate with primitive beings that lived in trees and were akin to us; it is a free, ferocious force, a mighty quintessence of life, a primal power that gives rise to movement, that primary essence that molds the forms of life - in short, that vitality that makes the snake's body squirm when its head is cut off and the snake is dead, or which languishes in the turtle's clumsy body, causing it to jump and tremble at the light touch of a finger.

I felt such strength in this man who walked up and down. He stood firmly on his feet, his feet confidently stepped on the deck; every movement of his muscles, whatever he did, whether he shrugged his shoulders or tightly pressed his lips holding the cigar, was decisive and seemed to be born of excessive and overflowing energy. However, this force, which permeated his every movement, was only a hint of another, even greater force, which was dormant in him and only stirred from time to time, but could wake up at any moment and be terrible and swift, like the fury of a lion or the destructive gust of a storm.

The cook stuck his head out of the kitchen doors, grinned reassuringly, and pointed his finger at a man walking up and down the deck. I was given to understand that this was the captain, or, in the language of the cook, "the old man", the very person whom I needed to disturb with a request to put me ashore. I had already stepped forward to put an end to what, according to my assumptions, should have caused a storm for five minutes, but at that moment a terrible paroxysm of suffocation seized the unfortunate man, who was lying on his back. He flexed and writhed in convulsions. His wet black beard jutted out even more, his back arched and his chest bulged in an instinctive effort to take in as much air as possible. The skin under his beard and all over his body - I knew it, although I did not see it - was taking on a crimson hue.

The captain, or Wolf Larsen, as those around him called him, stopped walking and looked at the dying man. This last struggle between life and death was so fierce that the sailor stopped pouring water and stared curiously at the dying man, while the canvas bucket half collapsed and water poured out of it onto the deck. The dying man, having beaten the dawn on the hatch with his heels, stretched out his legs and froze in the last great tension; only the head was still moving from side to side. Then the muscles loosened, the head stopped moving, and a deep sigh of relief escaped his chest. The jaw dropped, the upper lip lifted and revealed two rows of tobacco-stained teeth. It seemed that the features of his face were frozen in a devilish grin at the world he had left and fooled.

Float made of wood, iron or copper spheroidal or cylindrical shape. The buoys fencing the fairway are equipped with a bell.

Leviathan - in Hebrew and medieval legends, a demonic creature wriggling in an annular shape.

The old church of St. Mary-Bow, or simply Bow-church, in the central part of London - City; all who were born in the quarter near this church, where the sound of its bells can be heard, are considered the most authentic Londoners, who are called in England in derision "sospeu".

Sea Wolf (novel)

Sea Wolf
sea ​​wolf
Cover of the English version of the book
Genre :
Original language:
Original published:

The novel takes place in 1893 in the Pacific Ocean. Humphrey Van Weyden, a San Francisco resident and renowned literary critic, takes a ferry across the Golden Gate Bay to visit his friend and is shipwrecked along the way. He is picked up from the water by the captain of the fishing schooner Ghost. Ghost), whom everyone on board calls Volk Larsen

For the first time, having asked about the captain from the sailor who brought him to consciousness, Van Weyden learns that he is “mad”. When Van Weyden, who has just come to his senses, goes on deck to talk with the captain, the assistant captain dies in front of his eyes. Then Wolf Larsen makes one of the sailors his assistant, and puts the cabin boy George Leach in the place of the sailor, he does not agree with such a movement and Wolf Larsen beats him. And Wolf Larsen makes the 35-year-old intellectual Van Weyden a cabin boy, giving him the cook Mugridge, a tramp from the London slums, a sycophant, an informer and a slob, as his immediate superiors. Mugridge, who had just been pleasing to the "gentleman" who got on board the ship, when he is under his command, begins to bully him.

Larsen, on a small schooner with a crew of 22, goes to harvest fur seal skins in the Pacific North and takes Van Weyden with him, despite his desperate protests.

The next day, Van Weyden discovers that the cook has robbed him. When Van Weyden tells the cook about this, the cook threatens him. Carrying out the duties of a cabin boy, Van Weyden cleans the captain's cabin and is surprised to find books on astronomy and physics, the works of Darwin, the writings of Shakespeare, Tennyson and Browning. Encouraged by this, Van Weyden complains to the captain about the cook, Wolf Larsen mockingly tells Van Weyden that he himself is to blame for sinning and seducing the cook with money, and then he seriously sets out his own philosophy, according to which life is meaningless and like leaven, and “the strong devour the weak."

From the team, Van Weyden learns that Wolf Larsen is famous in the professional environment for reckless courage, but even more terrible cruelty, because of which he even has problems recruiting a team; there is murder on his conscience. The order on the ship rests entirely on the extraordinary physical strength and authority of Wolf Larsen. Guilty for any misconduct, the captain immediately severely punishes. Despite his extraordinary physical strength, Wolf Larsen has severe headache attacks.

Having drunk the coke, Wolf Larsen wins money from him, having found out that apart from this stolen money, the vagrant cook does not have a penny. Van Weyden recalls that the money belongs to him, but Wolf Larsen takes it for himself: he believes that "weakness is always to blame, strength is always right," and morality and any ideals are illusions.

Frustrated by the loss of money, the cook vents evil on Van Weyden and begins to threaten him with a knife. Upon learning of this, Wolf Larsen mockingly declares to Van Weyden, who had previously told Wolf Larsen that he believes in the immortality of the soul, that the cook cannot harm him, since he is immortal, and if he is reluctant to go to heaven, let him send the cook there, stabbing with his knife.

In desperation, Van Weyden gets an old cleaver and defiantly sharpens it, but the cowardly cook does not take any action and even begins to kowtow to him again.

The atmosphere of primal fear reigns on the ship as the captain acts in accordance with his belief that human life is the cheapest of all cheap things, but Van Weyden is favored by the captain. Moreover, having started his journey on the ship with an assistant cook, “Hump” (a hint at the stoop of mental workers), as Larsen nicknamed him, makes a career to the position of senior assistant captain, although at first he does not understand anything in maritime affairs. The reason is that Van Weyden and Larsen, who came from the bottom and at one time led a life where “kicks and beatings in the morning and for the coming sleep replace words, and fear, hatred and pain are the only thing that fed the soul” find a common language in the field of literature and philosophy, which are not alien to the captain. He even has a small library on board, where Van Weyden discovered Browning and Swinburne. In his free time, the captain enjoys mathematics and optimizes navigational instruments.

Cook, who previously enjoyed the captain's favor, is trying to return him by denouncing one of the sailors - Johnson, who dared to express dissatisfaction with the robe given to him. Johnson had previously been in bad standing with the captain, despite the fact that he worked properly, as he had a sense of his own dignity. In the cabin, Larsen and a new assistant savagely beat Johnson in front of Van Weyden, and then drag an unconscious Johnson to the deck. Here, unexpectedly, Wolf Larsen is denounced in front of everyone by the former cabin boy Lich. The Leach then beats up Mugridge. But to the surprise of Van Weyden and the others, Wolf Larsen does not touch the Lich.

One night, Van Weyden sees Wolf Larsen making his way over the side of the ship, all wet and with a bloody head. Together with Van Weyden, who does not understand what is happening, Wolf Larsen descends into the cockpit, here the sailors pounce on Wolf Larsen and try to kill him, but they are unarmed, in addition, they are disturbed by darkness, large numbers (since they interfere with each other) and Wolf Larsen, using his extraordinary physical strength, makes his way up the ladder.

After that, Wolf Larsen calls Van Weyden, who remained in the cockpit, and appoints him his assistant (the previous one, along with Larsen, was hit on the head and thrown overboard, but, unlike Wolf Larsen, he could not swim out and died) although he does not understand anything in navigation .

After the failed mutiny, the captain's treatment of the crew becomes even more brutal, especially for Leach and Johnson. Everyone, including Johnson and Lich themselves, are sure that Wolf Larsen will kill them. Volk Larsen himself says the same. The captain himself has increased headache attacks, now lasting for several days.

Johnson and Leach manage to escape on one of the boats. On the way to pursue the fugitives, the crew of the "Ghost" picks up another company of those in distress, including a woman - the poetess Maud Brewster. At first sight, Humphrey is attracted to Maud. A storm is starting. Beside himself over the fate of Leach and Johnson, Van Weyden announces to Wolf Larsen that he will kill him if he continues to mock Leach and Johnson. Wolf Larsen congratulates Van Weyden that he has finally become an independent person and gives his word that he will not touch Leach and Johnson with a finger. At the same time, mockery is visible in the eyes of Wolf Larsen. Soon Wolf Larsen catches up with Leach and Johnson. Wolf Larsen comes close to the boat and does not take them on board, thereby drowning Leach and Johnson. Van Weyden is stunned.

Wolf Larsen even earlier threatened the slovenly cook that if he did not change his shirt, he would ransom him. Once making sure that the cook has not changed his shirt, Wolf Larsen orders to dip him into the sea on a rope. As a result, the cook loses a leg bitten off by a shark. Maud becomes a witness to the scene. The wolf is also attracted to Maud, which ends with the fact that he tried to rape her, but abandoned his attempt due to the onset of a severe headache, besides being present at the same time and even rushing at first in a fit of indignation at Wolf Larsen with a Van Weyden knife for the first time I saw Wolf Larsen truly scared.

Van Weyden and Maud decide to flee the Ghost while Wolf Larsen lies in his quarters with a headache. Having captured a boat with a small supply of food, they flee, and after several weeks of wandering across the ocean, they find land and land on a small island that Maud and Humphrey called Effort Island(English) Endeavor Island). They cannot leave the island and are preparing for a long winter.

After some time, a wrecked schooner washed up on the island. This is the "Ghost", on board which is Wolf Larsen. The crew of the Ghost rebelled against the arbitrariness of the captain (?) and fled to another ship to the mortal enemy of Wolf Larsen, his brother named Death Larsen. The crippled Ghost, with broken masts, drifted in the ocean until it washed up on Effort Island. By the will of fate, it is on this island that the blinded captain Larsen discovers a rookery of seals, which he has been looking for all his life.

Maude and Humphrey, at the cost of incredible effort, put the Ghost in order and take it to the open sea. Larsen, whose senses are consistently denied after vision, is paralyzed and dies. The moment Maude and Humphrey finally discover a rescue ship in the ocean, they confess their love for each other.

Philosophy of Wolf Larsen

Wolf Larsen professes a peculiar philosophy life leaven(English) yeast) - a natural principle that unites a person and an animal that survives in an unfriendly world. The more leaven in a person, the more actively he fights for a place under the sun and achieves more.

The book demonstrates the author's perfect knowledge of maritime affairs, navigation and sailing rigging. Jack London learned this knowledge in those days when he worked as a sailor on a fishing vessel in his youth. So he writes about the schooner "Ghost":

"Ghost" is an eighty-ton schooner of excellent design. Its greatest width is twenty-three feet, and its length exceeds ninety. An unusually heavy lead false keel (its exact weight is unknown) gives it great stability and allows it to carry a huge area of ​​​​sails. From deck to topmast, the mainmast is more than a hundred feet, while the foremast, together with the topmast, is ten feet shorter.

Screen adaptations

• "Sea Wolf" US film (1941)
• "Sea Wolf" serial film of the USSR (1990).
• "Sea Wolf" US film (1993).
• "Sea Wolf", Germany (2009).
• "Sea Wolf" film, Canada, Germany (2009).

Notes

Works by Jack London
Novels and novels
Storybooks	Son of the Wolf (1900) · God of his fathers (1901) · Children of frost (1902) · male fidelity (1904) · moonface (1906) · Fishing Patrol Tales (1906) · Love of life (1907) · Lost face (1910) · South Sea Tales (1911) · When the gods laugh (1911) · temple of pride (1912) · Smoke Bellew (1912) · Son of the Sun (1912) · born in the night (1913) · The strength of the strong (1914) · Tasmanian turtles (1916)
Other works

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INTRODUCTION

This term paper is devoted to the work of one of the most famous American writers of the XX century Jack London (John Cheney) - the novel "The Sea Wolf" ("The Sea Wolf", 1904). Based on the writings of famous literary scholars and literary critics, I will try to deal with certain issues related to the novel. First of all, it is important to note that the work is extremely philosophical, and it is very important to see its ideological essence behind the external features of romance and adventure.

The relevance of this work is due to the popularity of the works of Jack London (the novel "The Sea Wolf" in particular) and the enduring themes raised in the work.

It is appropriate to talk about genre innovation and diversity in the literature of the United States at the beginning of the 20th century, since during this period the socio-psychological novel, the epic novel, the philosophical novel develop, the genre of social utopia becomes widespread, and the genre of the scientific novel is created. Reality is depicted as an object of psychological and philosophical understanding of human existence.

“The novel The Sea Wolf occupies a special place in the general structure of novels of the beginning of the century precisely because it is full of polemics with a number of such phenomena in American literature that are associated with the problem of naturalism in general and the problem of the novel as a genre in particular. In this work, London made an attempt to combine the genre of the "marine novel" common in American literature with the tasks of the philosophical novel, whimsically framed in the composition of an adventure story.

The object of my research is Jack London's novel "The Sea Wolf".

The purpose of the work is the ideological and artistic components of the image of Wolf Larsen and the work itself.

In this work, I will consider the novel from two sides: from the ideological side and from the artistic side. Thus, the objectives of this work are: firstly, to understand the prerequisites for writing the novel "The Sea Wolf" and creating the image of the main character, related to the ideological views of the author and his work in general, and, secondly, relying on the literature devoted to this question, to reveal what is the originality of the transfer of the image of Wolf Larsen, as well as the uniqueness and diversity of the artistic side of the novel itself.

The work includes an introduction, two chapters corresponding to the tasks of the work, a conclusion and a list of references.

FIRST CHAPTER

“The best representatives of critical realism in American literature at the beginning of the 20th century were associated with the socialist movement, which in these years begins to play an increasingly active role in the political life of the United States.<...>First of all it concerns London.<...>

Jack London - one of the greatest masters of world literature of the 20th century - played an outstanding role in the development of realistic literature both with his short stories and with his novels, depicting the clash of a strong, courageous, active person with the world of a purebred and possessive instincts, hated by the writer.

When the novel was published, it caused a sensation. Readers admired the image of the mighty Wolf Larsen, admired how skillfully and subtly the line between his cruelty and love of books and philosophy was drawn in the image of this character. The philosophic disputes between the antipode heroes - Captain Larsen and Humphrey Van Weyden - about life, its meaning, about the soul and immortality also attracted attention. Precisely because Larsen was always firm and unshakable in his convictions, his arguments and arguments sounded so convincing that "millions of people listened with delight to Larsen's self-justifications:" It is better to reign in the underworld than to be a slave in heaven "and" Law is in force ". That is why "millions of people" saw the praise of Nietzscheanism in the novel.

The power of the captain is not just huge, it is monstrous. With its help, he sows chaos and fear around him, but at the same time, involuntary submission and order reign on the ship: “Larsen, a destroyer by nature, sows evil around him. He can destroy and only destroy.” But, at the same time, characterizing Larsen as a “magnificent animal” [(1), p. 96], London awakens in the reader a feeling of sympathy for this character, which, along with curiosity, does not leave us until the very end of the work. Moreover, at the very beginning of the story, one cannot help but feel sympathy for the captain also because of the way he behaved during the rescue of Humphrey (“It was an accidental absent-minded look, an accidental turn of the head<...>He saw me. Jumping to the steering wheel, he pushed the helmsman away and quickly turned the wheel himself, shouting at the same time some kind of command. [(1), p. 12]) and at the funeral of his assistant: the ceremony was performed according to the "laws of the sea", the last honors were given to the deceased, the last word was said.

So, Larsen is strong. But he is alone and alone is forced to defend his views and position in life, in which the features of nihilism are easily traced. In this case, Wolf Larsen was undoubtedly perceived as a bright representative of Nietzscheism, preaching extreme individualism.

On this occasion, the following remark is important: “It seems that Jack did not deny individualism; on the contrary, during the writing and publication of The Sea Wolf, he defended free will and the belief in the superiority of the Anglo-Saxon race more actively than ever before. One cannot but agree with this statement: the object of admiration of the author, and, as a result, the reader, is not only the ardent, unpredictable temperament of Larsen, his unusual mindset, animal strength, but also external data: “I (Humphrey) was fascinated by the perfection of these lines , this, I would say, ferocious beauty. I saw sailors on the forecastle. Many of them struck with their mighty muscles, but all had some kind of drawback: one part of the body was too strongly developed, the other too weakly.<...>

But Wolf Larsen was the epitome of masculinity and was built almost like a god. When he walked or raised his arms, powerful muscles tensed and played under the satin skin. I forgot to say that only his face and neck were covered with a bronze tan. His skin was as white as a woman's, which reminded me of his Scandinavian origins. When he raised his hand to feel the wound on his head, the biceps, as if alive, went under this white cover.<...>I could not take my eyes off Larsen and stood as if nailed to the spot. [(1), p. 107]

Wolf Larsen is the central character of the book, and, undoubtedly, it is in his words that the main idea that London wanted to convey to the readership is laid.

Nevertheless, in addition to such strictly opposite feelings as admiration and censure that the image of Captain Larsen evoked, the thoughtful reader had a doubt why this character is sometimes so contradictory. And if we consider his image as an example of an indestructible and inhumanly cruel individualist, then the question arises why he "spare" Humphrey's sissy, even helped him become independent and was very happy with such changes in Humphrey? And for what purpose is this character introduced in the novel, who undoubtedly plays an important role in the book? According to Samarin Roman Mikhailovich, a Soviet literary critic, “in the novel, an important theme arises of a man capable of stubborn struggle in the name of high ideals, and not in the name of asserting his power and satisfying his instincts. This is an interesting, fruitful idea: London went in search of a hero who is strong, but humane, strong in the name of humanity. But at this stage - the beginning of the 900s<...>Van Weyden is outlined in the most general terms, he fades next to the colorful Larsen. That is why the image of an experienced captain is much brighter than the image of Humphrey Van Weyden's "bookworm", and, as a result, Wolf Larsen was enthusiastically received by the reader as a person capable of manipulating others, as the only owner on his ship - a tiny world, as a person , which we sometimes want to be ourselves - imperious, indestructible, powerful.

Considering the image of Wolf Larsen and the possible ideological origins of this character, it is important to take into account the fact “that, when starting work on The Sea Wolf, he [Jack London] did not yet know Nietzsche.<...>Acquaintance with him could have happened in the middle or at the end of 1904, some time after the completion of The Sea Wolf. Prior to this, he had heard Nietzsche Stron-Hamilton and others quoted, and he used expressions such as "blond beast", "superman", "living in danger" when he worked.

So, in order to finally understand who the Larsen wolf is, the object of the author's admiration or censure, and where the novel took its origins, it is worth referring to the following fact from the life of the writer: “In the early 1900s, Jack London, along with writing, gives a lot of effort social and political activities as a member of the socialist party.<...>He either leans towards the idea of ​​a violent revolution, or advocates a reformist path.<...>At the same time, the eclecticism of London took shape in the fact that Spencerianism, the idea of ​​the eternal struggle between the strong and the weak, was transferred from the biological field to the social sphere. It seems to me that this fact once again proves that the image of Wolf Larsen certainly "succeeded", and London was pleased with what character came out of his pen. He was pleased with him from the artistic side, not from the point of view of the ideology inherent in Larsen: Larsen is the quintessence of everything that the author sought to "debunk". London collected all the features hostile to him in the image of one character, and, as a result, such a “colorful” hero turned out that Larsen not only did not alienate the reader, but even aroused admiration. Let me remind you that when the book was just published, the reader "heard with delight" the words of the "enslaver and tormentor" (as he is described in the book) "The right is in force."

Jack London subsequently "insisted that the meaning of The Sea Wolf was deeper, that in it he was trying to debunk individualism rather than vice versa. In 1915 he wrote to Mary Austin: “A long time ago, at the beginning of my writing career, I challenged Nietzsche and his idea of ​​the superman. The "Sea Wolf" is dedicated to this. A lot of people read it, but no one understood the attacks on the superman's philosophy of superiority contained in the story.

According to Jack London's idea, Humphrey is stronger than Larsen. He is stronger spiritually and carries those unshakable values ​​that people remember when they are tired of cruelty, brute force, arbitrariness and their own insecurity: justice, self-control, morality, morality, love. It's not for nothing that he gets Miss Brewster. “According to the logic of Maud Brewster's character - a strong, intelligent, emotional, talented and ambitious woman - it would seem more natural to be carried away not by the refined Humphrey close to her, but to fall in love with the pure masculine principle - Larsen, an extraordinary and tragically lonely, to follow him, cherishing hope to guide him to the path of goodness. However, London gives this flower to Humphrey to emphasize the unattractiveness of Larsen. For the line of love, for the love triangle in the novel, the episode when Wolf Larsen tries to take possession of Maud Brewster is very indicative: “I saw Maud, my Maud, beating in the iron embrace of Wolf Larsen. She tried in vain to break free, her hands and head resting on his chest. I rushed to them. Wolf Larsen raised his head and I punched him in the face. But it was a weak blow. Roaring like a beast, Larsen pushed me away. With that push, with a slight wave of his monstrous hand, I was thrown aside with such force that I smashed into the door of Mugridge's former cabin, and it shattered into splinters. Crawling out from under the rubble with difficulty, I jumped up and, feeling no pain - nothing but a furious rage that took possession of me - again rushed at Larsen.

I was struck by this unexpected and strange change. Maud stood leaning against the bulkhead, holding on to it with her hand thrown to the side, and Wolf Larsen, staggering, covering his eyes with his left hand, with his right hesitantly, like a blind man, rummaged around him. [(1), p. 187] The reason for this strange seizure that seized Larsen is not clear not only to the heroes of the book, but also to the reader. One thing is clear: London did not accidentally choose just such a denouement for this episode. I assume that, from an ideological point of view, he thus increased the conflict between the characters, and, from the point of view of the plot, he wanted to “enable” Humphrey to emerge victorious in this fight, so that in Maud’s eyes he would become a brave defender, because otherwise the outcome would be would be a foregone conclusion: Humphrey could do nothing. Recall, for example, how several sailors tried to kill the captain in the cockpit, but even seven of them could not inflict serious injuries on him, and Larsen, after everything that had happened, only with the usual irony said to Humphrey: “Get to work, doctor! It looks like you have a lot of practice ahead of you on this swim. I don't know how Ghost would have managed without you. If I were capable of such noble feelings, I would say that his master is deeply grateful to you. [(1), C, 107]

From all of the above, it follows that "Nietzscheanism here (in the novel) serves as a backdrop against which he (Jack London) presents Wolf Larsen: it causes interesting debate, but is not the main theme." As already noted, the work "Sea Wolf" is a philosophical novel. It shows the clash of two radically opposite ideas and worldviews of completely different people who have absorbed the features and foundations of different strata of society. That is why there are so many disputes and discussions in the book: the communication between Wolf Larsen and Humphrey Van Weyden, as you can see, is presented exclusively in the form of disputes and reasoning. Even communication between Larsen and Maud Brewster is a constant attempt to prove the correctness of their worldview.

So, "London himself wrote about the anti-Nietzschean orientation of this book." He repeatedly emphasized that in order to understand both certain subtleties of the work, and for the ideological picture as a whole, it is important to take into account his political and ideological beliefs and views.

The most important thing is to realize that "they and Nietzsche followed different paths towards the idea of ​​the superman." Everyone has their own “superman”, and the main difference lies in where their worldviews “grow” from: Nietzsche’s irrational vitality, cynical disregard for spiritual values ​​​​and immorality were the result of a protest against morality and norms of behavior dictated by society. London, on the contrary, by creating its hero, a native of the working class, deprived him of a happy and carefree childhood. It was these deprivations that caused his isolation and loneliness and, as a result, gave rise to that same bestial cruelty in Larsen: “What else can I tell you? he said darkly and angrily. - About the hardships suffered in childhood? About a meager life when there is nothing to eat but fish? About how, having barely learned to crawl, I went out with the fishermen to the sea? About my brothers who, one by one, went to sea and never returned? About how I, not knowing how to read or write, as a ten-year-old cabin boy sailed on old coasters? About rough food and even rougher treatment, when kicks and beatings in the morning and for the coming sleep replace words, and fear, hatred and pain are the only thing that feeds the soul? I don't like to think about it! These memories still drive me crazy.” [(1), p. 78]

“Already at the end of his life, he (London) reminded his publisher: “I was, as you know, in the intellectual camp opposite to Nietzsche.” That is why Larsen is dying: London needed the quintessence of individualism and nihilism that was invested in his image to die with Larsen. This, in my opinion, is the strongest evidence that London, if at the time of the creation of the book was not yet an opponent of Nietzscheism, then he was definitely against "pure and possessive instincts." It also confirms the author's commitment to socialism.

wolf larsen london ideological

SECOND CHAPTER

“Artistically, The Sea Wolf is one of the finest maritime works in American literature. In it, the content is combined with the romance of the sea: wonderful pictures of severe storms and fogs are drawn, the romance of a person's struggle with the harsh sea elements is shown. As in the Northern stories, London is here the "action" writer.<...>The sea, like the northern nature, helps the writer to reveal the human psyche, to establish the strength of the material from which a person is made, to reveal his strength and fearlessness. The sea, like an indomitable, powerful force, is unpredictable and fraught with danger. Also unpredictable and ferocious is the captain of the Ghost ship.

Immediately after the publication of the book, the image of Wolf Larsen caused a heated controversy related to the ideological component of this character, and, as a result, the work itself. However, with regard to the artistic side of the novel, then, of course, most readers found it unsurpassed, while some critics spoke negatively about the work. Thus, the American writer and journalist Ambrose Bierce reviewed in a letter to George Sterling: “On the whole, the book is very unpleasant. And the style of London does not shine, and it lacks a sense of proportion. In essence, the narrative is built as a heap of unpleasant episodes. Two or three would be enough to show what kind of person Larsen is; the statements of the hero himself would complete the characterization.

I do not agree with this opinion, because I believe that London, creating the characters of the novel, firstly, proved to be an excellent psychologist, paying attention to everyone and drawing in detail their external and psychological portraits. Secondly, the author has never kept his attention on any one of the characters for a long time. He constantly moved from describing one character to another, thus filling the novel with a variety of psychological images and giving it a dynamic narrative.

If we talk about the captain of the fishing schooner, Wolf Larsen, then he, “undoubtedly, is the central image of the novel, and all the “spotlights and lamps” (in the terminology of G. James) are aimed at illuminating him. But for Jack London, he is important not in itself - as a type or a curious character, but as a means of popularizing his own philosophical worldview, obtained and built with such difficulty. I cannot but agree with this statement, since all the other heroes of the work really help to reveal the "colorful" image of Larsen, that is, "are aimed at lighting it up." I also share the opinion that the image of the captain for Jack London is not important in itself: it is not his rich, extensive and multifaceted knowledge and experience that is important, but how he applies them and seeks to convey them to others. After all, Humphrey Van Weyden fights with his cruel power, with his one-handedness. It is the "tool" for popularizing the life experience of Wolf Larsen that is opposed to Humphrey's gentlemen's code. Thus, rudeness, intransigence and voluntarism (Life "is like leaven that ferments for minutes, hours, years or centuries, but sooner or later stops fermenting. The big ones devour the small ones to support their fermentation. The strong devour the weak to maintain their strength" [(1), p. 42]) are opposed to patience, education and the ability to compromise. In this case, the ending of the book is very indicative: Humphrey does not kill Larsen even when there is nothing left to lose, and any human patience would have run out long ago, because even stricken with a serious illness, waiting for death to approach, Larsen does not change. First, he destroys the elaborate mast-lifting structure that Humphrey built alone. But this is not enough for him and, neglecting the labors and efforts of Humphrey, Larsen, being paralyzed, sets fire to the bed on which he lies: “The source of the smoke had to be looked for near Wolf Larsen - I was convinced of this and therefore went straight to his bed.<...>Through a crack in the boards of the upper bunk, Wolf Larsen set fire to the mattress lying on it - for this he still had enough control over his left hand. [(1), p. 263] London seems to be specially testing Humphrey “Larsen” again and again in order to convey to the reader his own, author’s position: “Humphrey becomes an active man without losing his human essence, acting as the bearer of the author’s ideal of masculinity not animal , selfish and aggressive, but humane and protective.” Humphrey himself says this about how he “got on his feet”: “I took a medicine called Wolf Larsen, and in fairly large doses. Before and after meals. [(1), p. 240]

It follows that "the main conflict is the clash of different psychologies and philosophies." First, Wolf Larsen explains to Humphrey that he, with his principles and the upbringing of a gentleman, will “have a hard time” on the ship: “You brought some high concepts<...>they have no place here." [(1), p. 154] Then Humphrey himself, having experienced the meaning of these words for himself, explains Maud Brewster that "spiritual courage is a useless virtue in this tiny floating world."

At this stage, it is important to once again turn to how the captain himself interpreted the reason for his cruelty and what he saw as its origins. “Hump, do you know the parable of the sower who went out into the field? "Another fell on rocky places, where there was little earth, and soon rose up, because the earth was shallow. When the sun rose, it burned it, and, having no root, it withered; another fell into thorns, and thorns grew and choked it ".<...>I was one of those seeds." [(1), p. 77] It seems to me that Larsen used a biblical text, a parable, trying to describe himself and his life in order to convey the heartache of loneliness and constant deprivation that he experienced in childhood and with which he still lives. He couldn't let anyone even think that he, Captain Wolf Larsen, had a weak spot, that he was vulnerable and vulnerable. But he could no longer endure this unbearable suffering, so he revealed himself to the only educated person with whom he could communicate on any topic and conduct philosophical conversations over the long years of sailing on this ship: “Do you know, Hump,” he began slowly and seriously with a barely perceptible sadness in his voice - that for the first time in my life I hear the word "ethics" from someone's lips? You and I are the only people on this ship who know the meaning of the word." [(1), p. 62] Humphrey is not only educated, he is very observant, intelligent and, above all, honest: he did not discuss with anyone what Wolf Larsen said, as cook Thomas Mugridge liked to do. Humphrey always only listened, observed and drew conclusions: “Sometimes Wolf Larsen seems to me just crazy or, in any case, not quite normal - he has so many oddities and wild quirks. Sometimes I see in him the makings of a great man, a genius, left in the bud. And finally, what I am absolutely convinced of is that he is the brightest type of primitive man, born a thousand years or generations late, a living anachronism in our age of high civilization. Undoubtedly, he is a complete individualist and, of course, very lonely. [(1), p. 59]

Summarizing the above, it is worth emphasizing that it was not the books that influenced the captain's worldview and personality, but his past. As Robert Balthrop correctly noted in his book on the biography of Jack London and his work: “Larsen could become what he is without any bookish influence; and indeed, there is a minor figure in the story of his brother, Death Larsen, in whom "is no less brutal than in me, but he can hardly read and write" and "never philosophizes about life."

It is appropriate to turn to the question associated with the name of the captain: why the "Wolf"? No one on the ship has ever heard his real name, and the reader will never know where it came from. However, the first way to explain its origin is the meaning of the word in "marine" lexicology: "an experienced, experienced sailor", that is, a person with extensive experience in sea voyages. The second option, how the origin of the name can be interpreted, is the meaning of the expression "sea wolf" in English, recorded in the 14th century: "pirate". And here it is impossible not to recall several significant episodes. The first was with Macedonia, when Volk Larsen, having deceived his brother, seized all the hunting boats by force and bribery: “The third boat was attacked by two of ours, the fourth by the other three, and the fifth, turning, went to the rescue of the neighboring one. The skirmish started from a long distance, and we could hear the incessant rattle of rifles” [(1), p. 173], “Won’t they run away like Wainwright? I asked. He chuckled. "They won't run away, because our old hunters won't let that happen." I've already promised them a dollar for each new hide. That's partly why they tried so hard today. Oh no, they won't let them escape!" [(1), S. 180]. The second - with the boat on which Maud Brewster was located, and with the fate of everyone in this boat: “After a heated skirmish with Wolf Larsen, the mechanic and three oilers were nevertheless distributed among the boats under the command of the hunters and assigned to watch on the schooner, for which they equipped in different junk, found in the warehouse. [(1), p. 141] The third - with a hunting boat from another ship, lost in the fog: “The boats were always lost, then found again; according to maritime customs, any schooner took them on board in order to return them to their owner later. But Wolf Larsen, who lacked one boat, did what was expected of him: he took possession of the first boat that had strayed from his schooner, forced her crew to hunt with ours and did not allow him to return to his schooner when she appeared in the distance. . I remember how the hunter and both sailors, having pointed their guns at them, were driven down when their schooner passed by and the captain inquired about them. [(1), p. 129] And the fourth - with Humphrey himself, why he stayed on the Ghost: “I would like to go ashore,” I said decisively, finally mastering myself. - I will pay you what you need for the trouble and delay on the way.<...>I have another suggestion - for your own good. My assistant has died and I will have to make some moves. One of the sailors will take the place of an assistant, the cabin boy will go to the forecastle - to the place of the sailor, and you will replace the cabin boy. Sign a condition for this flight - twenty dollars a month and grub.<...>Do you agree to take on the duties of a cabin boy? Or will I have to take care of you?

What was I to do? Let yourself be brutally beaten, maybe even killed - what good is that?<...>It so happened that, against my will, I fell into slavery to Wolf Larsen. He was stronger than me, that's all." [(1), S. 24, 28] But these are real pirate, even barbaric deeds. Moreover, Larsen himself calls himself a pirate in an appeal to Maud Brewster: “I like you more and more,” he said. - Mind, talent, courage! Not a bad combination! A blue stocking like you could be the wife of a pirate leader...” [(1), p. 174] Analyzing all of the above arguments, two options explaining the possible origin of the name "Wolf", we come to the conclusion that they are both fair in relation to this hero and his character. Such a name helps to reveal the image of the captain, helps the reader to understand certain traits inherent in him: as you know, the wolf in English folklore and literature is associated with a greedy, dangerous predator. This is due to the fact that they often attacked livestock, and in hungry winters, it happened to humans. But if in life wolves attack in a pack, then in this case the choice of a name is very paradoxical: Wolf Larsen acts as a lone wolf.

Indeed, “concentrating attention on Larsen, London all the time emphasizes his internal, “deep” inconsistency. Larsen's vulnerability is endless loneliness." This is like a payment for the inhuman power with which he is endowed. It is precisely because of his intellectual superiority and unsurpassed strength that Larsen is lonely: in his entire life he has not found an equal to himself and has not found a rational application of his skills. From childhood, he was accustomed to achieving his goal on his own, and everything that he has in life, including the rank of captain, Larsen achieved without anyone's help, “but such a struggle, such a victory, obtained by the exertion of all vital forces, developed into him cruelty and contempt for those who are unable to compete with him, who remained on a lower hierarchical step in society.

As already noted, only in Humphrey did the captain see a worthy interlocutor, but even against the background of such a well-read person, Larsen was indestructible by virtue of his undeniable arguments. Larsen's arguments are so irrefutable that neither Humphrey himself nor Maud Brewster can challenge them. Each time they only tried to defend the “right to exist” of their own convictions: “In vain did I deny and protest. He overwhelmed me with his arguments." [(1), C. 83]

So, repeatedly demonstrating his superiority, Larsen, obviously, in this way tried to hide his spiritual anguish deep in himself and keep secret from everyone his ailment - the headaches that tormented him. But he could not do otherwise: Larsen could not afford to relax for a second. Firstly, he is the captain, and the captain is the strongest person on the ship, a support and an example for the whole team. Secondly, the sailors were just waiting to kill the hated tyrant. Thirdly, Larsen was not allowed to do this by his reputation as an indestructible giant and pride. “It was a lonely soul” [(1), p. 41], Humphrey reasoned to himself. “Extreme individualism, Nietzschean philosophy erects a barrier between him and other people. It awakens in them a sense of fear and hatred. Enormous possibilities, indomitable force inherent in it, do not find the right application. Larsen is unhappy as a person. He is rarely satisfied. His philosophy makes you look at the world through the eyes of a wolf. More and more often he is overcome by black melancholy. London reveals not only Larsen's inner failure, but also reveals the destructive nature of all his activities.

It is worth noting that the novel begins and ends with death and salvation: at the beginning, the captain's assistant dies and Humphrey is rescued, at the end Wolf Larsen dies, and Humphrey and Maud Brewster are saved from a desert island. Thus, “already the beginning of the novel introduces us into an atmosphere of cruelty and suffering. It creates a mood of intense expectation, prepares for the onset of tragic events. The captain of the schooner “Ghost” Wulf Larsen created a special world on his ship, living according to its laws”: “Power, brute force, reigned on this vile ship”, [(1), p. 38] “among insane and bestial people”. [(1), C. 70].

The name of the fishing vessel is very symbolic in the novel - "Ghost". Since Jack London himself sailed a lot on ships, he was probably familiar with maritime beliefs and signs. The most famous of them is "as you call a ship, so it will sail." I suppose that in this case the choice of the name by the author is due to the fact that he wanted to emphasize the idea, the fact that people disappeared on it. Of course, they did not disappear, there was no mysticism. But a lot of people from the crew of the Ghost and other ships died or suffered at the hands of the captain. There is also a belief that a meeting with a ghost ship (that is, sailing, but devoid of a crew) promises a shipwreck. Obviously, when the Martinez collided with another ship - the Ghost was somewhere nearby, it simply was not visible in the fog. It can be argued that the ship was not far away because Humphrey was taken aboard from the icy water in time, otherwise he would have died of hypothermia. Also, in explaining the second belief that could have been the reason for the choice of the name of the ship, one can recall how the entire crew mutinied and left the Ghost, and he really went without a crew on board until he reached the Isle of Effort. Wolf Larsen was already morally depressed, his illness began to progress rapidly.

“Careful reading of the book,” F. Foner writes about The Sea Wolf, “allows one to discover, behind a fascinating outer shell, an idea that has eluded all its reviewers, the idea that, under the existing order of things, an individualist will inevitably end in self-destruction. Torn apart by internal contradictions, unable to solve his own problems, Wulf Larsen hardens, degrades, descends, turns into a monster, a sadist<...>he is broken, exhausted, bouts of desperate pain split his head, nothing remains of his athletic build and steel will. A shell of misanthropy and cruelty covered his weakness and fear.

As we saw in the first part, “London models his Larsen after the Nietzschean hero, but does it in his own way. Nietzsche affirms the superiority of the superman over bourgeois grayness, everyday life, depersonalization. The Nietzschean of London is an American hero, a self-made man who survived the struggle of life and, thanks to this, retained faith in himself, in his vitality, energy, vitality. His relationship with culture is far from thoughtless and very personal: he seemed to have received all the knowledge on his own and, as it were, passed through himself, therefore they are deeper and more original than the opinions and judgments of his interlocutors read from books. His opinion about something, his outlook on life were formed "in an isolated", "narrow" and "limited" space, "unidirectionally": Wolf Larsen's worldview was formed only in his head. Yes, he read books (“On the wall, at the head, hung a shelf with books<...>Shakespeare, Tennyson, Edgar Allan Poe and De Quincey, the works of Tyndall, Proctor and Darwin, and also books on astronomy and physics.<...>Bulfinch's Mythic Age, Shaw's History of English and American Literature, Johnson's Natural History in two large volumes, and several grammars by Metcalfe, Guide, and Kellogg. I couldn't help but smile when my copy of English for Preachers caught my eye. The presence of these books did not fit in with the appearance of their owner, and I could not help but doubt that he was able to read them. But, while making up my bunk, I found a volume of Browning under the covers...”), but he had no one to polymerize on various philosophical topics until Humphrey Van Weyden appeared on the ship. Only with him can Larsen conduct a dialogue, but, of course, no arguments and arguments from Humphrey can make Larsen reconsider his beliefs. He has acted according to “his own laws” for so long that he does not imagine any other possible way of existence, except for survival at the expense of the weak: “This captain of the hunting schooner knows only the primitive laws of the survival of the most predatory and cruel. This is really a wolf, not only in name and penetrating mind, but also in rough wolf grip. As we have already found out, Larsen's cruelty is nothing more than a natural consequence of a life in which there is no love and warmth. She also gave birth to cold and pain in Larsen's soul. But sometimes it seems to me that his pain is more like as if Larsen was simply offended by the whole world for being deprived of a happy childhood and a quiet life. He seems to envy Humphrey and the fact that he received a solid inheritance from his father, but pride does not allow Larsen to admit this even to himself, and, as a result, the captain begins to firmly believe in his views, taking them as the only correct ones. It is impossible not to admit that many of his thoughts (“I believe that life is an absurd vanity.<...>They (the sailors) are swarming,<...>live for their belly, and the belly keeps them alive. It's a vicious circle; moving along it, you will not get anywhere. That is what happens to them. Sooner or later the movement stops. They don't fumble anymore. They are dead." [(1), p. 42] “I am convinced that I act badly whenever I observe the interests of others. Can two particles of yeast offend each other when mutually devouring? The desire to devour and the desire not to let themselves be devoured is inherent in them by nature. [(1), p. 63] "You can disturb their soul most of all if you get into their pocket." [(1), p. 166] “In terms of supply and demand, life is the cheapest thing in the world. The amount of water, land and air is limited, but life that gives birth to life. Limitless. Nature is wasteful." [(1), p. 55]) are very interesting, although they are rude, somewhat selfish, but objectively fair. But, in the end, they have the right to exist. It is with his clear and iron logic, extraordinary mindset and train of thought that the tyrant Wolf Larsen wins the sympathy and even respect of the reader.

Of course, one cannot underestimate what, thanks to his philosophy, Wolf Larsen did for Humphrey. He showed the “bookworm”, “sissy Humphrey” a completely different side of life, where every man is for himself, even if at first glance it may seem that you are part of a team, part of the whole. As the American literary scholar Robert Spiller noted, “he brings the art lover Humphrey Van Weyden back to reality, which opens up an excellent topic for a great novel.” This is not to say that Wolf Larsen changed Humphrey. No. It is very difficult to change an adult person, with his formed worldview, and Larsen himself is the proof of this. A person can either be broken or "strengthened", as happened with Humphrey Van Weyden. Wolf Larsen discovered the second "I" of Humphrey, a strong, courageous, independent, responsible "I", ready to kill in defense of love: "Love made me a mighty giant. I wasn't afraid of anything.<...>Everything will be fine". [(1), C. 181] Humphrey gradually begins to understand Wolf Larsen's train of thought and begins to speak "in his language" - when no statement can be refuted. Humphrey is not afraid to challenge Larsen to an intellectual duel: “Look closely,” I said, “and you will notice a slight tremor. This means that I am afraid, my flesh is afraid. I am afraid of the mind, because I do not want to die. But my spirit overcomes trembling flesh and frightened consciousness. This is more than courage. This is courage. Your flesh is not afraid of anything, and you are not afraid of anything. So, it is not difficult for you to meet danger face to face. It even gives you pleasure, you revel in danger.

You may be fearless, Mr. Larsen, but you will agree that of the two of us, the truly brave is me. "You're right," he admitted immediately. - In this light, I have not imagined it yet. But then the opposite is also true. If you are braver than me, then I am more cowardly than you? We both laughed at this strange conclusion." [(1), C. 174]

“The main conflict between the rude Larsen and the gentleman Humphrey, as it were, illustrates the thesis about nature and civilization: nature is masculine, civilization is feminine,” “because for Nietzsche civilization has a feminine face.” Watching the conversation between Maud and Wolf Larsen, Humphrey “thought that they were at the extreme stages of the evolution of human society. Larsen embodied the primitive savagery. Maud Brewster - all the sophistication of modern civilization."

For Jack London, as for any other writer, it was very important to be understood and understood correctly. Thus, he wrote: “We must understand that nature has no feelings, no mercy, no gratitude; we are only puppets of great, causeless forces,<...>These forces produce altruism in a person...”, - this is from a letter to K. Jones. This remark also plays a significant role in understanding the image of Wolf Larsen. It is no coincidence that on the pages of the novel there are words that the mere thought of the upcoming battles with the storm, with the whole element, gave him great pleasure: “It seemed that he only breathed easily when he, risking his life, fought with a formidable enemy.” [(1), p. 129] Challenging nature itself, Larsen unconsciously proved his superiority over other people who, obeying a sense of fear and the instinct of self-preservation, were anxiously waiting for an unequal fight. “Life takes on a special poignancy,” he explained to me, “when it hangs by a thread. Man is a player by nature, and life is his biggest bet. The greater the risk, the greater the sensation.” [(1). S. 112]

The image of Larsen is ambiguous and complex, like the work itself. Nevertheless, both the hero and the novel, in my opinion, are full of artistic splendor. Understanding them requires thoughtful reading and attention to detail. It is the depth of transmission of each image and their diversity that make the novel a truly brilliant work.

CONCLUSION

The work of Jack London "The Sea Wolf" included the features of a psychological, philosophical, adventure and social novel. Returning to the question of its ideological component, it is important to reiterate that London pursued one single goal in writing it: "to debunk individualism." “The author's position in the novel is extremely clear. London, as a humanist, pronounces a guilty verdict on Larsen, as an exponent of the harmful essence of Nietzscheism, its hostility to man. In my opinion, the intention of Jack London is obvious. He created Wolf Larsen, firstly, to convey his negative attitude towards individualism, and to reveal the image of Humphrey Van Weyden. In other words, the author sought to show what, in his opinion, a person should and should not be.

Thanks to his literary skill, London, paying attention to the smallest details of the story, created a work rich in vivid, unique psychological images. "The dignity of the novel lies, therefore, not in the glorification of the "superman", but in his very strong artistic realistic depiction with all its inherent features: extreme individualism, cruelty, the destructive nature of activity."

List of fiction

1. London Jack, The Sea Wolf: A Novel; Journey on the "Dazzling": A Tale, Stories of a Fishing Patrol ", - M .: AST Publishing House LLC, 2001. 464 p. - (Adventure Library)

List of scientific literature

1. Robert Baltrop, "Jack London: man, writer, rebel", - 1st ed .. abbr. M.: Progress, 1981. - 208s.

2. Gilenson B.A., History of US Literature: Textbook for students. higher Proc. Zavedeniya, 2003, 704 p.

3. Zasursky Ya.N., "American literature of the XX century", 1984, 504 p.

4. Zasursky Ya. N., M.M. Koreneva, E.A. Stetsenko, History of US Literature. Literature of the beginning of the 20th century”, 2009

5. Samarin R.M., “Foreign literature: Proc. allowance for philol. specialist. universities”, 1987, 368 p.

6. Spiller R., Literary History of the United States of America, 1981, 645 pp.

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The action of the novel takes place in 1893 in the Pacific Ocean. Humphrey Van Weyden, a San Francisco resident and renowned literary critic, takes a ferry across the Golden Gate Bay to visit his friend and is shipwrecked along the way. He is picked up from the water by the captain of the fishing schooner Ghost, whom everyone on board calls Volk Larsen.

For the first time, having asked the sailor who brought him to consciousness about the captain, Van Weyden learns that he is “mad”. When Van Weyden, who has just come to his senses, goes on deck to talk with the captain, the assistant captain dies in front of his eyes. Then Wolf Larsen makes one of the sailors his assistant, and puts the cabin boy George Leach in the place of the sailor, he does not agree with such a movement and Wolf Larsen beats him. And Wolf Larsen makes the 35-year-old intellectual Van Weyden a cabin boy, giving him the cook Mugridge, a tramp from the London slums, a sycophant, an informer and a slob, as his immediate superiors. Mugridge, who had just been pleasing to the "gentleman" who got on board the ship, when he is under his command, begins to bully him.

Larsen, on a small schooner with a crew of 22, goes to harvest fur seal skins in the Pacific North and takes Van Weyden with him, despite his desperate protests.

The next day, Van Weyden discovers that the cook has robbed him. When Van Weyden tells the cook about this, the cook threatens him. Carrying out the duties of a cabin boy, Van Weyden cleans the captain's cabin and is surprised to find books on astronomy and physics, the works of Darwin, the writings of Shakespeare, Tennyson and Browning. Reassured by this, Van Weyden complains to the captain about the cook. Wolf Larsen mockingly tells Van Weyden that he himself is to blame for sinning and seducing the cook with money, and then he seriously sets out his own philosophy, according to which life is meaningless and like leaven, and "the strong devour the weak."

From the team, Van Weyden learns that Wolf Larsen is famous in the professional environment for reckless courage, but even more terrible cruelty, because of which he even has problems recruiting a team; there is murder on his conscience. The order on the ship rests entirely on the extraordinary physical strength and authority of Wolf Larsen. Guilty for any misconduct, the captain immediately severely punishes. Despite his extraordinary physical strength, Wolf Larsen has severe headache attacks.

Having drunk the coke, Wolf Larsen wins money from him, having found out that apart from this stolen money, the vagrant cook does not have a penny. Van Weyden recalls that the money belongs to him, but Wolf Larsen takes it for himself: he believes that "weakness is always to blame, strength is always right," and morality and any ideals are illusions.

Annoyed by the loss of money, the cook vents evil on Van Weyden and begins to threaten him with a knife. Upon learning of this, Wolf Larsen mockingly declares to Van Weyden, who had previously told Wolf Larsen that he believes in the immortality of the soul, that the cook cannot harm him, since he is immortal, and if he is reluctant to go to heaven, let him send the cook there, stabbing with his knife.

In desperation, Van Weyden gets an old cleaver and defiantly sharpens it, but the cowardly cook does not take any action and even begins to kowtow to him again.

An atmosphere of primal fear reigns on the ship as the captain acts in accordance with his belief that human life is the cheapest of all cheap things. However, the captain favors Van Weyden. Moreover, having started his journey on the ship with an assistant cook, “Hump” (a hint at the stoop of mental workers), as Larsen nicknamed him, makes a career to the position of senior assistant captain, although at first he does not understand anything in maritime affairs. The reason is that Van Weyden and Larsen, who came from the bottom and at one time led a life where “kicks and beatings in the morning and for the coming sleep replace words, and fear, hatred and pain are the only thing that fed the soul” find a common language in the field of literature and philosophy, which are not alien to the captain. He even has on board the small library where Van Weyden discovered Browning and Swinburne. In his free time, the captain enjoys mathematics and optimizes navigational instruments.

Cook, who previously enjoyed the captain's favor, is trying to return him by denouncing one of the sailors - Johnson, who dared to express dissatisfaction with the robe given to him. Johnson had previously been in bad standing with the captain, despite the fact that he worked properly, as he had a sense of his own dignity. In the cabin, Larsen and a new assistant savagely beat Johnson in front of Van Weyden, and then drag an unconscious Johnson to the deck. Here, unexpectedly, Wolf Larsen is denounced in front of everyone by the former cabin boy Lich. The Leach then beats up Mugridge. But to the surprise of Van Weyden and the others, Wolf Larsen does not touch the Lich.

One night, Van Weyden sees Wolf Larsen making his way over the side of the ship, all wet and with a bloody head. Together with Van Weyden, who does not understand what is happening, Wolf Larsen descends into the cockpit, here the sailors pounce on Wolf Larsen and try to kill him, but they are not armed, in addition, they are disturbed by darkness, large numbers (since they interfere with each other) and Wolf Larsen, using his extraordinary physical strength, makes his way up the ladder.

After that, Wolf Larsen calls Van Weyden, who remained in the cockpit, and appoints him as his assistant (the previous one, along with Larsen, was hit on the head and thrown overboard, but, unlike Wolf Larsen, he could not swim out and died) although he does not understand anything in navigation.

After the failed mutiny, the captain's treatment of the crew becomes even more brutal, especially for Leach and Johnson. Everyone, including Johnson and Lich themselves, are sure that Wolf Larsen will kill them. Volk Larsen himself says the same. The captain himself has increased headache attacks, now lasting for several days.

Johnson and Leach manage to escape on one of the boats. On the way to pursue the fugitives, the crew of the "Ghost" picks up another company of those in distress, including a woman - the poetess Maud Brewster. At first sight, Humphrey is attracted to Maud. A storm is starting. Beside himself over the fate of Leach and Johnson, Van Weyden announces to Wolf Larsen that he will kill him if he continues to mock Leach and Johnson. Wolf Larsen congratulates Van Weyden that he has finally become an independent person and gives his word that he will not touch Leach and Johnson with a finger. At the same time, mockery is visible in the eyes of Wolf Larsen. Soon Wolf Larsen catches up with Leach and Johnson. Wolf Larsen comes close to the lifeboat and never takes them on board, drowning Leach and Johnson. Van Weyden is stunned.

Wolf Larsen had earlier threatened the slovenly cook that if he did not change his shirt, he would ransom him. Once making sure that the cook has not changed his shirt, Wolf Larsen orders to dip him into the sea on a rope. As a result, the cook loses a foot bitten off by a shark. Maud becomes a witness to the scene.

The captain has a brother, nicknamed Death Larsen, a captain of a fishing steamer, in addition, as they said, he was engaged in the transport of weapons and opium, the slave trade and piracy. The brothers hate each other. One day, Wolf Larsen encounters Death Larsen and captures several members of his brother's team.

The wolf is also attracted to Maud, which ends with him attempting to rape her, but abandoning his attempt due to a severe headache attack. Van Weyden, who was present at the same time, even at first rushing at Larsen in a fit of indignation, for the first time saw Wolf Larsen truly frightened.

Immediately after this incident, Van Weyden and Maud decide to flee the Ghost while Wolf Larsen lies in his cabin with a headache. Capturing a boat with a small supply of food, they flee, and after several weeks of wandering the ocean, they find land and land on a small island, which Maud and Humphrey called Endeavor Island. They cannot leave the island and are preparing for a long winter.

After some time, a wrecked schooner washed up on the island. This is the Ghost with Wolf Larsen on board. He lost his sight (apparently, this happened during the seizure that prevented him from raping Maud). It turns out that two days after the escape of Van Weyden and Maude, the crew of the Ghost went over to the ship of Death Larsen, who boarded the Ghost and bribed the sea hunters. The cook took revenge on Wolf Larsen by sawing the masts.

The crippled Ghost, with broken masts, drifted in the ocean until it washed up on Effort Island. By the will of fate, it is on this island that Captain Larsen, blinded by a brain tumor, discovers a rookery of fur seals, which he has been looking for all his life.

Maude and Humphrey, at the cost of incredible effort, put the Ghost in order and take it to the open sea. Larsen, whose senses are consistently denied after vision, is paralyzed and dies. The moment Maude and Humphrey finally discover a rescue ship in the ocean, they confess their love for each other.