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Jack London - love of life. “Love of Life”, artistic analysis of the story by Jack London System of images in the story Love of Life

The story “Love of Life” by Jack London, a summary of which we are considering today, is an incredible story. She shows the reader that a person is able to endure everything in order to live on. And this life given to us must be appreciated.

Betrayal

Two people wander towards a large river. Their shoulders pull heavy bales. Their faces express tired resignation. One of the travelers fords the river. The second one stops at the water's edge. He feels like he sprained his ankle. He needs help. In desperation, he calls his friend. But Bill, that’s the name of our hero’s comrade, doesn’t turn around. As if he couldn’t hear his friend’s desperate cry, he wanders on. Here he is hiding behind a low hill, and the man is left alone.

They were heading to Lake Titchinnichili (translated from the native language, this name meant “Land of Small Sticks”). Before this, the partners washed several impressive bags of golden sand. The stream that flowed from the lake flowed into the Diz River, where the travelers had a cache of supplies. There were not only cartridges, but also small supplies of provisions. The little that was supposed to help survive. Now our hero is carrying a gun without cartridges, a knife and several blankets.

She and Bill have a plan. They will find a hiding place and go south to some trading post on Hudson Bay.

With great difficulty he passed the hill behind which Bill had disappeared. But behind this hill he was not there. The man suppressed his growing panic and clumsily walked on. No, he didn't get lost. He knows the way.

Lonely traveler

The man tries not to think about the fact that Bill abandoned him. He tries to convince himself that Bill is waiting for him in their shared hiding place. If this hope fades, all he can do is lie down and die.

The hero of Jack London's story "Love of Life" continues to move on. He mentally goes over the path he and Bill will take to Hudson Bay. Along the way, the man eats watery berries that come his way. He hasn't eaten for 2 days. And to the full - and even more.

At night, hitting his finger on a stone, he falls to the ground exhausted. And here I decided to take a break. He counted the remaining matches several times (there were exactly 67 of them) and hid them in the pockets of his clothes, which had turned into rags.

He slept like the dead. Woke up at dawn. The man gathered his supplies and stood thoughtfully over a bag of golden sand. He weighed 15 pounds. At first he decided to leave it. But he grabbed it again greedily. He can't throw gold.

Crazy Hunger

He's coming. But he was unbearably tormented by pain in his stomach and in his swollen leg. Because of this pain, he ceases to understand which way to go to the lake.

Suddenly he freezes - a flock of white partridges takes off in front of him. But he doesn’t have a gun, and you can hardly kill a bird with a knife. He throws a stone at the birds, but misses. One of them takes off right in front of his nose. A few feathers remain in his hand. He looks after the birds with hatred.

By evening, the feeling of hunger causes more and more suffering. The hero of Jack London's story "Love of Life", a summary of which we are considering, is ready for anything. He looks for frogs in the swamp, digs the ground in search of worms. But this living creature is not found so far in the north. And he knows it. But he no longer controls himself.

He sees a fish in a large puddle. He is soaked in dirty water up to his waist, but cannot reach it. Finally, having scooped up the entire puddle with a small bucket, he realizes that the fish escaped through a small crevice in the rocks.

Desperate, he sits on the ground and cries. His crying intensifies every minute, turning into a sob.

Sleep brought no relief. My leg burns like it’s on fire, my hunger won’t let me go. He feels cold and sick. The clothes have long since turned into rags, the moccasins are completely ruined. However, only one thought beats in the inflamed brain - eat! He doesn't think about the lake, he forgot about Bill. The man is going crazy from hunger.

When telling a summary of Jack London's "Love of Life", it is difficult to convey the obsession that takes possession of the hero.

He eats berries and roots, and looks for some small grass covered with snow.

The last wish is to live

Soon he finds a nest with newly hatched partridge chicks. He eats them alive without feeling full. He begins to hunt a partridge and damages its wing. In the heat of the chase for the poor bird, he finds human footprints. Probably Bill's tracks. But the partridge quickly eludes him, and he does not have the strength to return and examine whose traces he still saw. The man remains lying on the ground.

In the morning, he spends half of the blanket on wrappings for his wounded legs, and simply throws the other one away because he does not have the strength to drag it along with him. He also pours golden sand onto the ground. It no longer has value to him.

The man no longer feels hungry. He eats roots and small fish only because he understands that he must eat. His inflamed brain draws bizarre images before him.

Life or death?

Suddenly he sees a horse in front of him. But he realizes that this is a mirage and rubs his eyes from the thick fog that covers them. The horse turns out to be a bear. The animal looks at him unfriendly. The man remembers that he has a knife, he is ready to rush at the beast... But suddenly he is overcome by fear. He is so weak, what if a bear attacks him? Now he is starting to be afraid of being eaten.

In the evening he finds the bones of a fawn gnawed by wolves. He tells himself that dying is not scary, just falling asleep is enough. But the thirst for life makes him greedily pounce on the bones. He breaks his teeth on them and begins to crush them with a stone. He hits his fingers, but feels no pain.

Path to the ship

Days of wandering turn into delirium, shrouded in rain and snow. One morning he comes to his senses near some river unfamiliar to him. It meanders slowly, flowing into the brilliant white sea on the horizon. At first, the hero of the book “Love of Life” by Jack London seems to be delusional again. But the vision does not disappear - there is a ship in the distance.

Suddenly he hears some wheezing behind him. This is a sick wolf. He constantly sneezes and coughs, but follows on the heels of a potential victim.

His consciousness clears up, he realizes that he has reached the Coppermine River, which flows into the Arctic Ocean. The hero of the story “Love of Life” by Jack London, a summary of which we are considering, no longer feels pain, only weakness. A huge weakness that prevents him from rising. But he must get to the ship. The sick wolf follows him just as slowly.

The next day, the man and the wolf find human bones. These are probably Bill's bones. The man sees wolf paw marks all around. And a bag of gold. But he doesn't take it for himself. For several days he wanders towards the ship, then drops to all fours and crawls. A trail of blood trails behind him. But he doesn't want to die, doesn't want to be eaten by a wolf. His brain is again clouded by hallucinations. But during one of the clearings, he gathers his strength and strangles the wolf with the weight of his body. He eventually drinks his blood and falls asleep.

The crew of the whaling ship Bedford soon find something crawling across the land. They save him. But for a long time he, like a beggar, begs for crackers from the sailors, as if he is not fed during common meals. However, this stops before arriving at the port of San Francisco. He has fully recovered.

Conclusion

He fights for life against death - and wins this fight. His actions are amazing, but he is guided by instinct. The instinct of a hungry animal that does not want to die. Jack London's "Love of Life" pierces the reader's heart. Pity. Contempt. With admiration.

Essay-analysis on the topic: “Love of Life” by Jack London

The story of the American Jack London is dedicated to the story of one salvation. Its central theme is the struggle of a lone gold miner for survival among the harsh northern nature and love of life.

One of the main ideas of the story is that man is helpless and weak alone. What gives him strength is camaraderie and friendship with his own kind. A person succeeds in surviving and remaining human, preserving his mind and human appearance when there is mutual assistance and mutual assistance between people.

The author also touches on the theme of mercy, betrayal, the theme of human selfishness and loneliness. The hero of the story suffers from hunger and dangers among wild animals, is subject to visions, hallucinations - in complete solitude he has no one to even talk to, because his comrade Bill abandoned him, sick. He lifts his spirit by choosing not to see the betrayal and thinking: his comrade, of course, will wait for him at the hiding place.

In the finale, the nameless prospector is temporarily speechless, sees, hears and does not understand anything - how tortured he is and how unaccustomed he is to communicating with his own kind. “Their faces expressed patient humility,” the writer says about his characters - Bill and the nameless main character.

Even if Jack London had not indicated the place of events - where the main character wandered - it would be easy to determine from the descriptions of nature. Deer and wolves run around the hero, white partridges flutter, and a brown bear growls. He eats the swamp berries himself. There are no worms or frogs here - the ground is frozen, and this increases the protagonist's suffering from hunger. All this happens in the far north of the American continent, in the north of Canada adjacent to Alaska. In the finale, a nameless gold miner makes his way to the Arctic Ocean and is rescued by people. Descriptions of nature occupy a prominent place in London's story, but he gives them briefly and laconically, only in relation to some practical tasks of the hero, the events that happen to him.

The story is dominated by action, various verb forms are often found, but there are much fewer adjectives compared to verbs.

The hero is saved because his love for life does not allow him to lose heart and surrender to death just like that. It is amazing how much effort the sick person made to get stronger and live. He tried not to fall into the river from fatigue, kept track of where reality was and where it was a hallucination, and thus realized that the horse that seemed to him was actually a dangerous bear. The gold miner, when he just wanted to lie down, urged himself on, diligently remembered the map in order to navigate, did not disdain any food, even live chicks. Having lost his gun, his knife, and his hat, he did not forget to wind his watch! The idea that love for life, perseverance and discipline helps to overcome the most difficult situations is also one of the important ideas of the story.

Lesson type: combined using ICT.

Methodological techniques: analytical conversation, expressive reading, viewing slides, methods of critical thinking (clustering, reading with stops), mind map method.

The proposed lesson is the second lesson on Jack London. At the first, the biography of the writer, his life and creative path, and the history of the creation of stories were studied. A printout of the story “Love of Life” without title and ending is given at home.

The main emphasis in the lesson is on concepts such as life and death, betrayal and friendship, and the relativity of material values.

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Slide captions:

Topic: What is love of life? (Based on the story by Jack London "_"). Goal: using the example of D. London’s story, understand that a person must always remain human and continue to fight for life to the last. What is love of life?

Extreme situation: (from Latin extremus “extreme”) - a situation that is extremely tense, dangerous, requiring the highest level of mental and physical strength from a person.

worries overcomes the fear that Bill will leave him to be left without fire afraid to die a violent death betrayal of a friend hunger physical pain loneliness Hero of the story

Task No. 1: Continue the story about Bill. Work in groups:

realizes experiences overcomes fear that Bill will leave him to be left without fire afraid to die a violent death life is more important than gold betrayal of a friend hunger physical pain loneliness Hero of the story

Task #1: Continue the story about Bill. Task No. 2: Continue the story about the duel between the hero and the wolf. Work in groups:

realizes experiences possesses overcomes fear that Bill will leave him to be left without fire afraid to die a violent death life is more important than gold betrayal of a friend fortitude patience prudence endurance hunger physical pain loneliness Hero of the story

Strength of spirit is the inner fire that elevates a person to nobility, selfless and courageous actions.

realizes experiences possesses overcomes fear that Bill will leave him to be left without fire afraid to die a violent death life is more important than gold betrayal of a friend strength of spirit patience prudence endurance hunger physical pain loneliness Conclusion: love of life helps the hero survive. The hero of the story with the desire to survive the desire to live and the love of life The hero of the story

Task #1: Continue the story about Bill. Task No. 2: Continue the story about the duel between the hero and the wolf. Task No. 3: What is the name of Jack London's story? Group work: the desire to survive the desire to live the love of life

Conclusion: The author advocates friendship and mutual assistance. He condemns selfishness and selfishness. According to the author, a coward is in greater danger than a brave person. Conclusion: Jack London in his work tells us that man is capable of much, that no gold is worth the price of human life, and that the main character has preserved the most valuable thing - life. The strength of the human spirit knows no bounds. If he wants, he will conquer death. Love of life is stronger than the thirst for money, stronger than illness, loneliness, fear. The most precious thing a person has is life.

Topic: What is love of life? (Based on the story “Love of Life” by Jack London). Goal: using the example of D. London’s story, understand that a person must always remain human and continue to fight for life to the last. What is love of life? This is faith in the power of man, in his strength of spirit, in the desire to live, faith in camaraderie and friendship.

Task #1: Continue the story about Bill. Task No. 2: Continue the story about the duel between the hero and the wolf. Task No. 4: Make a plan for an essay - an argument on the topic: What is love for life? Task No. 3: What is the name of Jack London's story? Work in groups:

Essay - reasoning Plan I. Thesis (main idea). II. Arguments (evidence): 1. 2. 3. III. Conclusion.

Topic: What is love of life? Full name________________ Main idea – Evidence – Examples – Conclusion – Plan

Homework: make your own plan for an essay-reasoning on the topic: What is love for life?

Preview:

Subject: What is love of life?(Based on the story “Love of Life” by Jack London). Target: using the example of D. London's story, understand that a person must always remain a person and continue to fight for life to the last.

Teacher's opening speech.

The story you read at home, of course, has a title. Moreover, you were given a story without its ending. And today in class, analyzing what we read and reading the story to the end, you and I must independently come to the title of the story.

The topic of the lesson is “What is love of life?” How do you understand the topic of the lesson? What will the lesson be about?
What is the purpose of our lesson?
But in your concept, what is love of life? (after the children’s answers)- We will try to answer this question at the end of the lesson.

Conversation based on the story.

Why are there no descriptions of the main character’s appearance, character, or even his name?

It shows what a person can do in an extreme situation.

What is an emergency situation?

- (from Latin extremus “extreme”) An extreme situation is a situation that is extremely tense, dangerous, requiring the highest level of mental and physical strength from a person.

What is the main character of the story going through?- Betrayal of a friend, hunger, physical pain.
What mental quality can lead a hero to death?- Fear.
What was the hero afraid of? Give examples from the text.– 1) fear of loneliness; 2) fear that Bill will leave him; 3) fear of being left without fire; 4) was afraid of dying a violent death.
Does he manage to conquer his fears?
To stay alive, what sacrifices did the person make?- Threw away the gold.
Why did Bill leave his friend?- Bill leaves his comrade, afraid that he will be a burden for him, hoping that it is easier to save lives alone.
Do you think Bill achieved his goal?Work in groups:continue the story about Bill.Read about Bill's death in Jack London's story.
Why did Bill die? -He was greedy and cowardly.

Let's re-read the last lines “He turned away...”. Why does the hero think like that?“He survived because he was able to overcome fear and greed.
Why didn't the hero take Bill's gold?“He realized that life is more important than gold.
A man is trying to survive. But is it only a person? Who else is trying to survive in this harsh region? Find the description of the wolf (p.297).
The author shows a man and an animal (wolf) in the struggle for life side by side: who wins. What does the wolf symbolize? - This is a symbol of death , which drags after life, by all indications a person must perish, die. This is where she, death, will take him. But look, it’s not for nothing that death is given in the guise of a sick wolf: life is stronger than death.
Who do you think will win?Work in groups:continue the story about the duel between man and beast.

We see that man and wolf are sick, weak, but still man wins. What helped man to defeat the animal?- Fortitude, patience, prudence, endurance.
What is fortitude?
- Strength of mind - the inner fire that elevates a person to nobility, selfless and courageous actions.

The teacher reads the story to the end (pp. 302 – 303)

The hero survived. He survived thanks to fortitude, patience, and endurance. What feeling helped a person overcome the fear of death, survive the betrayal of a friend, and realize that life is more important than money? – The desire to survive, the desire to live, the love of life.
Here is the theme of the story, and the title, as you know, always reflects the theme.Work in groups:What is the name of Jack London's story?
Why is Jack London's story called "Love of Life"?

Conclusion: Jack London in his work tells us that a person is capable of much, that no gold is worth the price of human life, and that the main character has saved the most valuable thing - this is life. The strength of the human spirit knows no bounds. If he wants, he will conquer death. Love of life is stronger than the thirst for money, stronger than illness, loneliness, fear. The most precious thing a person has is life.

Let's try to answer again: What is love of life from the point of view of Jack London.Work in groups.- This is faith in the power of man, in his strength of spirit, desire to live, in camaraderie and friendship.

Preparing for an essay.Work in groups:drawing up a plan for an essay-reasoning. (Mind map method).

Essay topic: What is love of life?
Thesis. (Main thought)
Arguments (Proof). Facts (Examples)
Conclusion.

Homework:Make your own plan for an essay using the mind map method.

Extreme situation

Extreme situation- (from Latin extremus “extreme”) – a situation that is extremely tense, dangerous, requiring the highest level of mental and physical strength from a person.

Strength of mind

Strength of mind - an internal fire that elevates a person to nobility, selfless and courageous actions.

Conclusion: Jack London in his work tells us that man is capable of much, that no gold is worth the price of human life, and that the main character has preserved the most valuable thing - life. The strength of the human spirit knows no bounds. If he wants, he will conquer death. Love of life is stronger than the thirst for money, stronger than illness, loneliness, fear. The most precious thing a person has is life.

Preview:

Jack London.

Limping, they went down to the river, and once the one walking in front staggered, tripping in the middle of a scattering of stones. Both were tired and exhausted, and their faces expressed patient resignation - a trace of long hardships. Their shoulders were weighed down by heavy bales tied with straps. Each of them carried a gun. Both walked hunched over, with their heads bowed low and their eyes not raised.

It would be nice to have at least two cartridges from those that are in our cache,” said one.

The second one also entered the river after the first one. They did not take off their shoes, although the water was cold as ice - so cold that their feet and even their toes were numb from the cold. In places the water splashed over their knees, and both of them staggered, losing their support.

The second traveler slipped on a smooth boulder and almost fell, but stayed on his feet, screaming loudly in pain. He must have been dizzy; he staggered and waved his free hand, as if grasping for air. Having controlled himself, he stepped forward, but again staggered and almost fell. Then he stopped and looked at his companion: he was still walking ahead, without even looking back.

He stood motionless for a whole minute, as if thinking, then shouted:

Listen, Bill, I sprained my ankle!

Bill had already made it to the other side and was plodding on. The one standing in the middle of the river did not take his eyes off him. His lips trembled so much that the stiff red mustache above them moved. He licked his dry lips with the tip of his tongue.

Bill! - he shouted.

It was the desperate plea of a man in trouble, but Bill did not turn his head. His companion watched for a long time as he, with an awkward gait, limping and stumbling, climbed up the gentle slope to the wavy horizon line formed by the crest of a low hill. I watched until Bill disappeared from sight, crossing the ridge. Then he turned away and slowly looked around the circle of the universe in which he was left alone after Bill left.

The sun was shining dimly above the horizon, barely visible through the darkness and thick fog, which lay in a dense veil, without visible boundaries or outlines. Leaning on one leg with all his weight, the traveler took out his watch. It was already four. For the last two weeks he's lost count; since it was the end of July and the beginning of August, he knew that the sun should be in the northwest. He looked south, realizing that somewhere there, beyond those gloomy hills, lay the Great Bear Lake and that in the same direction the terrible path of the Arctic Circle ran across the Canadian plain. The river in the middle of which he stood was a tributary of the Coppermine River, and the Coppermine also flows north and flows into Coronation Bay, into the Arctic Ocean. He himself had never been there, but he saw these places on the map of the Hudson's Bay Company.

He again looked around the circle of the universe in which he was now alone. The picture was sad. Low hills closed the horizon with a monotonous wavy line. There were no trees, no bushes, no grass - nothing but a boundless and terrible desert - and an expression of fear appeared in his eyes.

Bill! - he whispered and repeated again: - Bill!

He squatted down in the middle of a muddy stream, as if the endless desert was suppressing him with its invincible strength, oppressing him with its terrible calm. He trembled as if in a fever, and his gun fell into the water with a splash. This made him come to his senses. He overcame his fear, gathered his courage and, lowering his hand into the water, fumbled for the gun, then moved the bale closer to his left shoulder so that the weight would put less pressure on his sore leg, and slowly and carefully walked to the shore, wincing in pain.

He walked without stopping. Ignoring the pain, with desperate determination, he hastily climbed to the top of the hill, behind the crest of which Bill had disappeared - and he himself seemed even more ridiculous and clumsy than the lame, barely hobbling Bill. But from the ridge he saw that there was no one in the shallow valley! Fear attacked him again, and, having overcome it again, he moved the bale even further to his left shoulder and, limping, began to go down.

The bottom of the valley was swampy, the water soaked the thick moss like a sponge. With every step, it splashed from under her feet, and the sole came off the wet moss with a squelch. Trying to follow in Bill's footsteps, the traveler moved from lake to lake, over stones sticking out in the moss like islands.

Left alone, he did not go astray. He knew that a little more - and he would come to the place where dry fir and spruce, low and stunted, surround the small lake Titchinnichili, which in the local language means: “Land of Little Sticks.” And a stream flows into the lake, and the water in it is not muddy. Reeds grow along the banks of the stream - he remembered this well - but there are no trees there, and it will go up the stream to the watershed itself. From the divide begins another stream flowing west; he will go down it to the Diz River and there he will find his hiding place under an overturned shuttle, littered with stones. The cache contains cartridges, hooks and lines for fishing rods and a small net - everything you need to get your own food. And there is also flour - though not much - and a piece of brisket and beans.

Bill would wait for him there, and the two of them would go down the Dease River to Great Bear Lake, and then they would cross the lake and go south, all south, and the winter would catch up with them, and the rapids in the river would be covered with ice, and the days would become colder, - to the south, to some trading post on Hudson Bay, where tall, powerful trees grow and where you can have as much food as you want.

This is what the traveler was thinking about as he made his way forward with difficulty. But no matter how difficult it was for him to walk, it was even more difficult to convince himself that Bill had not abandoned him, that Bill, of course, was waiting for him at the hiding place. He had to think so, otherwise there was no point in fighting further - all that was left was to lie on the ground and die. And while the dim disk of the sun was slowly disappearing in the northwest, he managed to calculate - and more than once - every step of the path that he and Bill would have to take, moving south from the coming winter. Again and again he mentally went through the food supplies in his hiding place and the supplies in the Hudson's Bay Company warehouse. He had not eaten anything for two days, but he had not eaten his fill for even longer. Every now and then he bent down, picked pale swamp berries, put them in his mouth, chewed and swallowed. The berries were watery and quickly melted in the mouth - only the bitter, hard seed remained. He knew that he could not get enough of them, but still he chewed patiently, because hope does not want to reckon with experience.

At nine o'clock he stubbed his big toe on a stone, staggered and fell from weakness and fatigue. For quite a long time he lay on his side without moving; then he freed himself from the straps, awkwardly rose and sat down. It was not yet dark, and in the twilight light he began to rummage among the stones, collecting scraps of dry moss. Having collected a whole armful, he lit a fire - a smoldering, smoky fire - and put a pot of water on it.

He unpacked the bundle and first of all counted how many matches he had. There were sixty-seven of them. To avoid mistakes, he counted three times. He divided them into three piles and wrapped each one in parchment; He put one bundle in an empty pouch, another in the lining of his worn-out hat, and the third in his bosom. When he had done all this, he suddenly became afraid; he unwrapped all three parcels and counted them again. There were still sixty-seven matches.

He dried his wet shoes by the fire. All that was left of his moccasins were rags, the socks he had made from a blanket were leaking through, and his feet were worn until they bled. His ankle hurt badly, and he examined it: it was swollen, almost as thick as his knee. He tore a long strip from one blanket and tightly bandaged his ankle, tore off several more strips and wrapped them around his legs, replacing his socks and moccasins, then drank boiling water, wound up his watch and lay down, covering himself with a blanket.

He slept like the dead. By midnight it got dark, but not for long. The sun rose in the northeast - or rather, it began to dawn in that direction, because the sun was hidden behind gray clouds. At six o'clock he woke up, lying on his back. He looked up at the gray sky and felt hungry. Turning and raising himself on his elbow, he heard a loud snort and saw a large deer, which was wary and

looked at him with curiosity. The deer stood no more than fifty paces from him, and he immediately imagined the supply and taste of venison sizzling in a frying pan. He involuntarily grabbed the unloaded gun, took aim and pulled the trigger. The deer snorted and rushed away, hooves clattering on the stones. He swore, threw the gun away, and groaned as he tried to get to his feet. He succeeded with great difficulty and not quickly. His joints seemed to be rusty, and bending or straightening up required a great effort of will each time. When he finally rose to his feet, it took him another full minute to straighten up and stand upright, as a man should.

He climbed up a small hill and looked around. No trees, no bushes - nothing but a gray sea of mosses, where only occasionally gray boulders, gray lakes and gray streams could be seen. The sky was also gray. Not a ray of sunshine, not a glimpse of the sun! He had lost track of where north was and had forgotten which direction he came from last night. But he did not lose his way. He knew that. Soon he will come to the Land of Little Sticks. He knew that she was somewhere to the left, not far from here - perhaps over the next gentle hill.

He returned to pack his bundle for the road; he checked whether his three bundles of matches were intact, but did not count them. However, he paused in thought over a flat, tightly stuffed deerskin bag. The bag was small, it could fit between the palms of his hands, but it weighed fifteen pounds - the same as everything else - and that worried him. Finally, he put the bag aside and began to roll up the bale; then he looked at the bag, quickly grabbed it and looked around defiantly, as if the desert wanted to take the gold from him. And when he rose to his feet and trudged on, the bag lay in a bale behind his back.

He turned left and walked, stopping from time to time and picking swamp berries. His leg became stiff and he began to limp more heavily, but this pain was nothing compared to the pain in his stomach. Hunger tormented him unbearably. The pain gnawed and gnawed at him, and he no longer understood which way he had to go to get to the land of Little Sticks. The berries did not quench the gnawing pain; they only stung the tongue and palate.

When he reached a small hollow, white partridges rose from the stones and hummocks to meet him, rustling their wings and shouting: “Kr-kr-kr...”. He threw a stone at them, but missed. Then, putting the bale on the ground, he began to creep up on them, like a cat creeps up on sparrows. His pants were torn on sharp stones, a bloody trail stretched from his knees, but he did not feel this pain - hunger drowned him out. He crawled on the wet moss; His clothes were wet, his body was cold, but he did not notice anything, his hunger tormented him so much. And the white partridges kept fluttering around him, and finally this “kr-kr” began to seem like a mockery to him; he scolded the partridges and began to loudly imitate their cry.

Once he almost stumbled upon a partridge, which must have been sleeping. He did not see her until she flew right into his face from her hiding place among the stones. No matter how quickly the partridge fluttered, he managed to grab it with the same quick movement - and he was left with three tail feathers in his hand. Watching the partridge fly away, he felt such hatred for it, as if it had caused him terrible harm. Then he returned to his bale and hefted it onto his back.

By midday he reached a swamp, where there was more game. As if teasing him, a herd of deer passed by, about twenty head strong, so close that they could have been shot with a gun. He was seized by a wild desire to run after them, he was sure that he would catch up with the herd. He came across a black-brown fox with a partridge in its teeth. He screamed. The scream was terrible, but the fox, jumping back in fear, still did not release its prey.

In the evening he walked along the bank of a stream, muddy with lime, overgrown with sparse reeds. Firmly grasping the stem of the reed at the very root, he pulled out something like an onion, no larger than a wallpaper nail. The onion turned out to be soft and crunched appetizingly in the teeth. But the fibers were tough, as watery as berries, and did not satiate. He threw off his luggage and crawled on all fours into the reeds, crunching and chomping like a ruminant.

He was very tired, and was often tempted to lie down on the ground and sleep; but the desire to reach the Land of Little Sticks, and even more hunger, did not give him peace. He looked for frogs in lakes, dug the ground with his hands in the hope of finding worms, although he knew that there were neither worms nor frogs so far in the North.

He looked into every puddle and finally, with the onset of dusk, he saw in such a puddle a single fish the size of a minnow. He lowered his right hand into the water up to his shoulder, but the fish eluded him. Then he began to catch it with both hands and picked up all the dirt from the bottom. Out of excitement, he stumbled, fell into the water and got wet to the waist. He muddied the water so much that the fish could not be seen, and he had to wait until the mud settled to the bottom.

He started fishing again and fished until the water became cloudy again. He couldn't wait any longer. Untying the tin bucket, he began to bail out the water. At first he scooped up furiously, got wet all over and splashed the water so close to the puddle that it flowed back. Then he began to draw more carefully, trying to be calm, although his heart was beating strongly and his hands were shaking. After half an hour there was almost no water left in the puddle. It was no longer possible to scoop anything up from the bottom. But the fish disappeared. He saw an inconspicuous crevice among the stones, through which the fish slipped into a neighboring puddle, so large that it could not be scooped out even in a day. If he had noticed this gap earlier, he would have blocked it with a stone from the very beginning, and the fish would have gone to him.

In despair, he sank to the wet ground and cried. At first he cried quietly, then he began to sob loudly, waking up the merciless desert that surrounded him; and cried for a long time without tears, shaking with sobs.

He lit a fire and warmed himself up by drinking a lot of boiling water, then settled down for the night on a rocky ledge, just like the previous night. Before going to bed, he checked that the matches were not wet and wound up his watch. The blankets were damp and cold to the touch. The whole leg burned with pain, as if on fire. But he felt only hunger, and at night he dreamed of feasts, dinner parties and tables laden with food.

He woke up cold and sick. There was no sun. The gray colors of the earth and sky became darker and deeper. A sharp wind blew, and the first snowfall whitened the hills. The air seemed to thicken and turn white as he built a fire and boiled water. It was wet snow falling in large wet flakes. At first they melted as soon as they touched the ground, but the snow fell thicker and thicker, covering the ground, and finally all the moss he had collected became damp, and the fire went out.

This was his signal to put the bale on his back again and wander forward to God knows where. He no longer thought about the Land of Little Sticks, or about Bill, or about the hiding place by the River Dease. He was possessed by only one desire: to eat! He went crazy from hunger. He didn't care where to go, as long as he walked on level ground. Under the wet snow, he groped for watery berries and pulled out reed stems with roots. But all this was bland and did not satisfy. Then he came across some kind of sour-tasting grass, and he ate as much as he could find, but it was very little, because the grass spread along the ground and was not easy to find under the snow.

That night he had neither a fire nor hot water, and he crawled under the covers and fell into a sleep disturbed by hunger. The snow turned into cold rain. He woke up every now and then, feeling the rain wet his face. The day came - a gray day without sun. Rain stopped. Now the traveler’s feeling of hunger has dulled. There was a dull, aching pain in his stomach, but it didn’t bother him much. His thoughts cleared, and he again thought about the Land of Little Sticks and about his hiding place near the River Dez.

He tore the rest of one blanket into strips and wrapped it around his sore, raw legs, then bandaged his sore leg and prepared for the day's march. When it came to the bale, he looked for a long time at the deerskin bag, but in the end he grabbed that too.

The rain melted the snow, and only the tops of the hills remained white. The sun appeared, and the traveler managed to determine the countries of the world, although now he knew that he had lost his way. He must have wandered too far to the left in his wanderings these last few days. Now he turned right to get on the right path.

The pangs of hunger had already subsided, but he felt that he was weakened. He had to stop and rest often, collecting swamp berries and reed bulbs. His tongue was swollen, dry and scratchy, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth. And what bothered him most was his heart. After a few minutes of travel, it began to knock mercilessly, and then seemed to jump and tremble painfully, leading him to suffocation and dizziness, almost to the point of fainting.

Around noon he saw two minnows in a large puddle. It was impossible to bail out the water, but now he became calmer and managed to catch them with a tin bucket. They were about the length of a little finger, no more, but he didn’t particularly feel like eating. The pain in the stomach weakened and became less acute, as if the stomach was dozing. He ate the fish raw, chewing them carefully, and this was a purely rational action. He didn't want to eat, but he knew that he needed it to stay alive.

In the evening he caught three more minnows, ate two, and left the third for breakfast. The sun dried the occasional patches of moss, and he warmed up by boiling some water for himself. That day he walked no more than ten miles, and the next, moving only when his heart allowed, no more than five. But the pain in his stomach no longer bothered him; my stomach seemed to have fallen asleep. The area was now unfamiliar to him, deer came across more and more often and wolves too. Very often their howls reached him from the deserted distance, and once he saw three wolves sneaking across the road.

One more night, and the next morning, having finally come to his senses, he untied the strap holding the leather pouch together. Large golden sand and nuggets fell from it in a yellow stream. He divided the gold in half, hid one half on a rock ledge visible from afar, wrapped in a piece of blanket, and put the other half back into the bag. He also used his last blanket to wrap his legs. But he still did not throw away the gun, because there were cartridges in a hiding place near the Diz River.

...It's foggy again. He spent half the blanket on windings. He couldn't find any trace of Bill, but that didn't matter now. Hunger stubbornly drove him forward. But what if... Bill got lost too? By noon he was completely exhausted. He divided the gold again, this time simply pouring half of it onto the ground. By evening he threw away the other half, leaving himself only a scrap of blanket, a tin bucket and a gun.

Obsessive thoughts began to torment him. For some reason, he was sure that he had one cartridge left - the gun was loaded, he just didn’t notice it. And at the same time, he knew that there was no cartridge in the magazine. This thought haunted him relentlessly. He struggled with it for hours, then examined the magazine and made sure that there was no cartridge in it. The disappointment was as strong as if he had actually expected to find a cartridge there.

About half an hour passed, then the obsessive thought returned to him again. He struggled with it and could not overcome it, and in order to somehow help himself, he examined the gun again. At times his mind became clouded, and he continued to wander on unconsciously, like an automaton; strange thoughts and absurd ideas gnawed at his brain like worms. But he quickly regained consciousness - the pangs of hunger constantly brought him back to reality. One day he was brought to his senses by a sight from which he almost fell unconscious. He swayed and staggered like a drunk, trying to stay on his feet. A horse stood in front of him. Horse! He couldn't believe his eyes. They were shrouded in a thick fog, pierced by bright points of light. He began to furiously rub his eyes and, when his vision cleared, he saw in front of him not a horse, but a large brown bear. The beast looked at him with unfriendly curiosity. He had already raised his gun, but quickly came to his senses. Lowering his gun, he pulled a hunting knife from its beaded sheath. Before him was meat and life. He ran his thumb along the blade of the knife. The blade was sharp, and the tip was also sharp. Now he will rush at the bear and kill it. But the heart began to pound, as if warning: knock, knock, knock - then it jumped up madly and began to tremble little by little; His forehead was pressed as if by an iron hoop, and his vision darkened.

Desperate courage was washed away by a wave of fear. He is so weak - what will happen if a bear attacks him? He straightened up to his full height as impressively as possible, pulled out a knife and looked the bear straight in the eyes. The beast clumsily stepped forward, reared up and growled. If a man started running, the bear would chase him. But the man did not move, emboldened by fear; he, too, growled, fiercely, like a wild animal, thereby expressing the fear that is inextricably linked with life and is closely intertwined with its deepest roots.

The bear stepped aside, growling menacingly, in fear of this mysterious creature, which stood straight and was not afraid of him. But the man still did not move. He stood rooted to the spot until the danger had passed, and then, trembling, he fell onto the wet moss.

Gathering his strength, he moved on, tormented by new fear. It was no longer the fear of starvation: now he was afraid of dying a violent death before the last desire to preserve life died out in him from hunger. There were wolves all around. Their howls could be heard from all sides in this desert, and the very air around them breathed menace so persistently that he involuntarily raised his hands, pushing this threat aside, like the flap of a tent tossed by the wind.

Wolves in twos and threes kept crossing his path. But they didn't come close. There weren't many of them; Moreover, they were accustomed to hunt deer that did not resist them, and this strange animal walked on two legs, and must have scratched and bitten.

Towards evening he came across bones scattered where the wolves had overtaken their prey. An hour ago it was a live fawn, it ran briskly and mooed. The man looked at the bones, gnawed clean, shiny and pink, because the life in their cells had not yet died out. Maybe by the end of the day there will be no more left of him? After all, such is life, vain and fleeting. Only life makes you suffer. It doesn't hurt to die. To die is to fall asleep. Death means the end, peace. Why then does he not want to die?

But he didn't think long. Soon he was squatting, holding the bone in his teeth and sucking out of it the last particles of life that still colored it pink. The sweet taste of meat, barely audible, elusive, like a memory, drove him crazy. He clenched his teeth tighter and began to chew. Sometimes a bone broke, sometimes his teeth. Then he began to crush the bones with a stone, grinding them into porridge, and swallowing them greedily. In his haste, he hit his fingers, and yet, despite his haste, he found time to wonder why he did not feel pain from the blows.

Terrible days of rain and snow have arrived. He no longer remembered when he stopped for the night and when he set off again. He walked without discerning time, both night and day, resting where he fell, and trudged forward when the life that was fading in him flared up and flared up brighter. He no longer struggled as people struggle. It was the life itself that did not want to die and drove him forward. He suffered no more. His nerves became dull, as if numb, and strange visions and rosy dreams crowded into his brain.

He, without ceasing, sucked and chewed the crushed bones, which he picked up to the last crumb and took with him. He no longer climbed hills or crossed watersheds, but wandered along the sloping bank of a large river that flowed through a wide valley. There were only visions before his eyes. His soul and body walked side by side and yet separately - the thread connecting them became so thin.

He regained consciousness one morning while lying on a flat stone. The sun was shining brightly and warmly. From a distance he could hear the mooing of the fawns. He vaguely remembered rain, wind and snow, but how long the bad weather followed him - two days or two weeks - he did not know.

For a long time he lay motionless, and the generous sun poured its rays on him, saturating his pitiful body with warmth. “It’s a good day,” he thought. Perhaps he will be able to determine the direction by the sun. With a painful effort, he turned onto his side. There, below, flowed a wide, slow river. She was unfamiliar to him, and this surprised him. He slowly followed its course, watched as it meandered among the bare, gloomy hills, even gloomier and lower than those he had seen before. Slowly, indifferently, without any interest, he followed the course of the unfamiliar river almost to the horizon and saw that it was flowing into the bright shining sea. And yet it didn't bother him. “Very strange,” he thought, “this is either a mirage or a vision, the fruit of a disordered imagination.” He was even more convinced of this when he saw a ship anchored in the middle of the shining sea. He closed his eyes for a second and opened them again. It's strange that the vision does not disappear! However, there is nothing strange. He knew that in

the heart of this barren land has neither sea nor ships, just as there are no cartridges in his unloaded gun.

He heard some snoring behind him - either a sigh or a cough. Very slowly, overcoming extreme weakness and numbness, he turned over to the other side. He saw nothing nearby and began to wait patiently. Again he heard sniffling and coughing, and between two pointed stones, no more than twenty steps away, he saw the gray head of a wolf. The ears did not stick up, as he had seen in other wolves, the eyes were clouded and bloodshot, the head hung helplessly. The wolf was probably sick: he was sneezing and coughing all the time.

“At least it doesn’t seem like it,” he thought and again turned on the other side to see the real world, not now obscured by the haze of visions. But the sea still sparkled in the distance, and the ship was clearly visible. Perhaps that’s all -is it real? He closed his eyes and began to think - and in the end he realized what it was. He walked northeast, moving away from the Dease River, and ended up in the valley of the Coppermine River. This wide, slow river was the Coppermine. This the shining sea is the Arctic Ocean. This ship is a whaling ship sailing far east of the mouth of the Mackenzie River, it is anchored in Coronation Bay. He remembered the map of the Hudson's Bay Company that he had seen once, and everything became clear and understandable.

He sat down and began to think about the most urgent matters. The wrappings of the blanket were completely worn out, and his legs were stripped to living flesh. The last blanket was used up. He lost his gun and knife. The hat was also missing, but the matches in the pouch behind his bosom, wrapped in parchment, remained intact and not damp. He looked at his watch. They were still walking and showed eleven o'clock. He must have remembered to wind them up.

He was calm and fully conscious. Despite the terrible weakness, he did not feel any pain. He didn't want to eat. The thought of food was even unpleasant to him, and everything he did was done at the behest of his reason. He tore off his trouser legs to the knees and tied them around his feet. For some reason he did not throw the bucket: he would have to drink boiling water before starting the path to the ship - a very difficult one, as he foresaw.

All his movements were slow. He trembled as if in paralysis. He wanted to pick up dry moss, but could not get to his feet. He tried to get up several times and eventually crawled on all fours. One time he crawled very close to a sick wolf. The beast reluctantly moved aside and licked its muzzle, forcefully moving its tongue. The man noticed that the tongue was not a healthy red color, but yellowish-brown, covered with half-dried mucus.

After drinking boiling water, he felt that he could get to his feet and even walk, although his strength was almost gone. He had to rest almost every minute. He walked with weak, unsteady steps, and the wolf trailed behind him with the same weak, unsteady steps. And that night, when the shining sea disappeared into darkness, the man realized that he had approached it no more than four miles.

At night he always heard the cough of a sick wolf, and sometimes the cries of fawns. There was life around, but life full of strength and health, and he understood that a sick wolf was trailing in the footsteps of a sick man in the hope that this man would die first. In the morning, opening his eyes, he saw that the wolf was looking at him sadly and greedily. The beast, looking like a tired, sad dog, stood with its head bowed and its tail between its legs. He shivered in the cold wind and bared his teeth sullenly when the man spoke to him in a voice that had dropped to a hoarse whisper.Main thought -

Proof -

Examples –

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Story "Love of life" was written by Jack London in 1905. In it, the author showed the strength of the human spirit, which does not retreat from anything on the path to life. Main character works - an unknown man (we do not know his name, occupation, or even age), wandering through the deserted Canadian lands towards Hudson Bay. Abandoned by his friend Bill in the middle of the river, as soon as he twists his ankle and turns into a burden, the man, exhausted by long-term fasting, is left alone with the outside world - not yet hostile, but not much help in overcoming difficult road miles.

The main task of the hero is to reach a cache with ammunition, fishing gear and a small supply of food in order to be able to reach an area with a large amount of food, complicated by the betrayal of a friend, a leg injury and physical exhaustion. Survival in the wild requires a person to realize all his internal (physiological and moral) forces, which form the basis of any personality and have no special relation to the social status of their bearer.

The main character of “Love of Life” can be both a bandit (thief, robber, murderer) and an ordinary adventurer. The only thing that connects him with the world of people is a bag of gold that weighs like all his luggage. The author does not talk about how it was obtained (righteously or not), but throughout the entire narrative he shows the internal struggle between the hero’s desire for life and his reluctance to enter this life as a beggar. The traveler tries several times to part with the gold, realizing that it is an additional obstacle on his path to life, but only strong weakness forces him to make this decision.

The first attempt to leave the bag is made by the hero as soon as he finds himself alone: counting the matches three times and placing them in three different places, the traveler already sees an incredible treasure in them, but does not yet understand this, and therefore drags heavy gold with him. The second attempt to part with the money occurs against the backdrop of severe hunger, driving the hero to a semi-fainting state, when he decides to hide half of his treasures in a noticeable rocky ledge. The third (final) attempt to throw off a life-threatening burden is carried out at the moment of greatest despair (the traveler sees the traces of his friend who betrayed him) and the complete dulling of any feelings except hunger (the hero eats the newly hatched partridge chicks alive, and then spends half the day in a fruitless pursuit of their stricken mother). At this stage of the journey, the man no longer regrets or hides anything (he does not have the strength to do this): he throws the gold on the ground and moves on.

A deserted land does not give the traveler the opportunity to ask people for help, the lack of ammunition does not allow him to hunt, and the lack of fishing gear does not allow him to fish. Severe physical exhaustion deprives dexterity (the hero cannot catch not so mobile partridges), internal (the character is not able to fight a bear that comes out to meet him) and external strength (neither a fox carrying caught prey in its teeth, nor a sick wolf is afraid of a weak person , for which a healthy person poses a mortal danger). The only way to get enough - swamp berries and reed bulbs - do not provide even a hundredth of what a person needs to maintain strength. Hunger drives the hero crazy - it puts thoughts about a non-existent cartridge in his head, deprives him of the fear of violent death. The traveler sees food in every living creature. The latter becomes for him the only opportunity to maintain life within himself.

At first, the main character feeds himself with hopes - for a new meeting with Bill, who is waiting for him at the cache with cartridges and provisions, for a trip to the Land of Little Sticks, from where he can get to an area abounding in tall trees and numerous living creatures. Then the traveler has nothing left except the natural desire to be satisfied. Trying to solve the problem of hunger, the hero stops at nothing: day after day he eats plant food that comes his way, looks for frogs in the swamp, earthworms in the ground, spends a huge amount of time catching small minnows and eats alive everything he comes across. into his hands - fish, chicks, the remains of meat on the bones of a lamb killed by wolves, and even the bones themselves. The only thing the man does not dare to do is eat the remains of his friend, which he stumbles upon at the most tragic moment of his life.

A ship on the horizon and a sick wolf as a guardian companion become the last, defining battle in the struggle for existence: the hero gathers his last strength, pretends to be dead and strangles the wolf, whose warm blood saturates him to such an extent that he may not walk, but at least crawl towards the ship. Having turned into a big fat worm (this is how scientists from the Bedford whaling ship see the character), a man, having found himself in his natural habitat, cannot come to his senses for a long time: he greedily absorbs food all the way to San Francisco, looking with hatred how other people eat, and constantly begs the sailors for crackers to fill his bed with.

The love of life is shown in the story through simple (gathering, hunting, saving energy, lighting a fire, bandaging feet, the inflexibility of the human spirit in the fight against hunger, cold and one’s own weakness) and terrible (injuries, pain, sleeping in the rain, loss of orientation in space , spending a huge amount of energy on obtaining constantly elusive food, man’s absorption of living beings) things. At the beginning of the work, the main character is a man who has a friend and gold; in the end - just a helpless worm, desperately fighting for its life, but still retaining the remnants of human dignity, manifested in its reluctance to eat the bones of a dead friend.

John Griffith Cheney (better known to the world as Jack London) wrote quite a lot during his not very long life. The themes of all his works are very similar: he wrote about life and love for it.

In this article we will talk about the famous story of the great writer Jack London - “Love of Life”. A brief summary of the work, information about the history of its writing, as well as the topics covered in it, can be found in the article.

Biography of the writer

John Griffith was born in San Francisco in 1876. He received the surname, which the whole world now knows about, thanks to his mother, who married farmer John London when little John was not yet a year old.

Young John's life was not easy: while still in school, he began working, distributing morning newspapers. And at the age of 14 he got a job at a canning factory. After working there for a while, Jack London soon goes to sea and becomes an oyster catcher. It is known that at this time the writer heavily abused alcohol, and his employees believed that he would not last long with this lifestyle.

Fateful voyage

In 1893, a significant event occurred in Cheney’s life, thanks to which the whole world now knows about such a writer as Jack London. The love of life and all kinds of romantic adventures led him to the schooner, which was supposed to go fishing for fur seals. This voyage greatly impressed London and, in fact, became the impetus for the development of his creativity, which was based on marine themes. The essay he wrote then, “Typhoon off the Coast of Japan,” not only brought London the first prize, but also became the start of his literary career.

This was followed by other stories, short stories, novels and novellas, which turned an ordinary sailor into a great prose writer. About two dozen novels and stories, over 200 short stories - this is the result of Jack London's writing activity.

In the last years of his short life, Jack London suffered from kidney disease. One evening, to escape a severe attack of pain, John took an overdose of sleeping pills. This is how the great writer Jack London died, whose love for life was boundless. It happened on November 22, 1916.

"Love of life"

This work was written by London in 1905. The story is very short, only ten pages, and you can read it very quickly. Thanks to his travels, Jack London was well versed in geography. In all his works one can find fascinating and detailed geographical descriptions. In particular, in this story the main character makes a long journey from the Bolshoi to the confluence of the Canadian Coppermine River in

The story “Love of Life” was positively assessed by many critics and famous personalities. Thus, the leader of the world proletariat Vladimir Lenin loved this work, calling it “a very powerful thing.” It is known that Nadezhda Krupskaya read this very story to Lenin two days before his death.

"Love of Life": summary

It is worth remembering once again that the story itself is not long, so it may be more advisable to read it directly and not waste time reading its summary. Nevertheless, we invite you to familiarize yourself with the retelling of the work “Love of Life”.

Betrayal of a comrade and the fight against hunger

The main character is left alone and continues on his way. With every kilometer he traveled, he thought more and more about food. On the way he met deer, but he did not have the ammunition to kill even one of them. Once he almost caught a partridge, but it escaped from his hands at the last moment. It seemed that he had no chance to survive, but something pushed him to move on. This was precisely the same love for life. A brief clouding of reason was again replaced by a burning desire to survive, and new strength was found.

The hero of the story eats everything he comes across along the way: berries, plant bulbs... Soon he has only one desire left - to eat! And it overshadowed all other thoughts in my head.

And one day he met a bear on the way. Gathering his last strength, he rose to his feet, took out a knife and looked the bear straight in the eyes. Much to the surprise, the animal did not touch the man.

Confrontation with the wolf

The most amazing pages of the story begin from the moment when the main character meets a wolf - as weak and exhausted as himself. The confrontation between man and wolf lasts quite a long time. Neither one nor the other no longer had the strength to attack the enemy. And the wolf simply crawled nearby, waiting for the traveler to die so that he could be eaten. But the main character does not give up, and besides, he was disgusted to think that his body could be eaten by this vile, almost dead animal.

As a result, the main character pretended to be dead and waited for the animal to approach him. When this happened, he crushed the wolf with the weight of his body. He did not have the strength to strangle the wolf, and he pressed his teeth to its neck. The most terrible and unimaginable episode of the story is the one when a man kills a wolf with his teeth, drinking its blood in order to survive.

In the end, the hero goes to the sea, where he is noticed by sailors on a whaling ship. Moreover, they were not sure that it was a person. He was so battered and exhausted by the struggle for life.

The main characters of the story

The struggle for existence, survival - this is precisely what lies at the heart of the story “Love of Life”, the heroes of which fight for this very life to the last. Yes, exactly the heroes. After all, the wolf waged this struggle in the same way as a man.

In the work we see two human characters: the main character (whose name is not mentioned by the author) and Bill, his partner. The latter decided to abandon his comrade in trouble, but he did not say goodbye to the bag of his gold. Bill's further fate is unknown to us. But the main character, on the contrary, very quickly realizes that gold will not save him and easily parts with it.

Apparently, it is no coincidence that Jack London leaves his main character without a name, because this is completely unimportant in this context. He is left alone with his hunger and near death, fighting for life.

The main idea of the work

In fact, the main idea of the work is contained in its title - this is the love of life. The content of the story helps us understand this issue in more detail.

More specifically, the main idea of this story is the struggle of man with nature for the right to exist. And he, thanks to courage and perseverance (and, perhaps, precisely because he is a man), manages to emerge victorious from this battle. Thus, it is the strength and superiority of Man over Nature that Jack London is trying to show here.

And if you dig even deeper, you can safely assume that the writer in his next work is looking for an answer to the eternal question: “What is the meaning of life?” This philosophical problem runs like a red thread through all of his work.

The main character of the story, having overcome fear and hunger, forgetting about the trauma, confidently entered the battle for his own life with the harsh and uncompromising nature. And he won. This cannot but evoke respect for the hero of the work and for the person in general. Despite everything, he managed to survive. Thus, Jack London tried to show his reader that a person is capable of overcoming the most terrible trials in order to survive, and that life is worth fighting for it like this.

One of the most famous works in world literature of the twentieth century is the story of John Griffith of London "Love of Life". A summary, of course, will allow you to get a general idea about it. However, in order to better feel and understand this story, it is better to read the work in the original.