In class, we’ve already discussed the most notable concepts
from “To Build A Fire,” so I’ll leave those alone even though the instinct vs.
intelligence dichotomy is probably the most intriguing aspect of the story. Digging
for a topic for an eight blog post, I started to think about the ending a
little more closely. Specifically, I’d like to talk about the man’s decision to
accept his death. It may not have been Jack London’s intention—I have trouble
reading too much into writers who claim they write solely for money—but it
seems to allude to the clichéd generalization “it is better to have tried and
failed than to have never tried at all,” which is, of course, an adaptation of Alfred
Lord Tennyson's poem “In Memoriam” that originally used “loved and lost” in
place of “tried and failed.”
Back on topic, if we read that allusion into the story, it’s
interesting to note how it plays out. The man has the opposite mindset—he likens
what he was doing (trying and failing) to “running around like a chicken with
its head cut off.” (638) Instead, he settles down to die in peace. He was “bound
to freeze anyway, and he might as well take it decently.” (638) As his life
fades away, he treats himself to a little flight of fancy, making his last
moments enjoyable rather than the terror we’d expect.
So what is London trying to say? The man decides it is in
fact better to not try at all, and instead dies in peace rather than terror.
From that perspective, it seems that London is rejecting the notion that it is
better to try and fail. Yet, the man isn’t just trying and failing to dunk a
basketball or some such inconsequential thing, it’s his life that’s at stake.
The result of not trying was death. Perhaps London is implying that if you
never try, your life is meaningless anyway—you might as well be dead. I think
you could realistically interpret it either way, which I suppose might possibly
detract from the value presented by whichever interpretation you do choose.
Or, the ending could just be part of the story, simple as
that. That’s the problem with trying to analyze writers who claim they write
solely for money—you always have to second-guess your interpretations and wonder
if the author intended to impart wisdom or is merely telling a story, not that
there’s anything wrong with telling a story for the sake of storytelling. So
maybe I’m reaching by trying to interpret any deeper meaning from the man’s
decision, but hey, it’s better to have tried and failed than to have never
tried at all, right?
One thing I have to think about, though left out by the author, is the issue of an afterlife. London certainly writes with his naturalist perspective, but for a Christian, for any religious who believes in an afterlife, the decision to let death come could really be a decision to live. Of course, that statement runs the risk of carrying a lot of baggage. When it comes down to it, I just wonder if it is better to try and fail to save your life in a temporary world or is it better to surrender all efforts of this prolonged salvation and enter into a new life?
ReplyDeleteOh definitely, the issue is infinitely more complicated when you bring religion into it! It completely reverses the perception of the decision. Without the Christian context, the majority of us would call a person embracing their death without trying to save themselves dumb (plenty blog posts did.) But for a person believing in an afterlife, to relinquish your earthly ties is the ultimate goal of our time on this earth, and from that perspective the man's decision can seem more honorable and righteous. Had London shared that perspective, we can imagine that the story and its tone would have definitely been changed, and that we readers would be left with a different impression after reading than the scorn most had for the man. Of course, the author doesn't have to have that perspective for us to read it that way anyway!
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