Jack London love of life theme. Russian Literature Lesson "Jack London"

Type of lesson: combined with the use of ICT.

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

The suggested lesson is the second lesson from Jack London. At the first stage, the biography of the writer, his life and creative path, the history of the creation of stories were studied. A printout of the story "Love of Life" without a title and ending is given to the house.

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

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Topic: What is the love of life? (According to the story of Jack London "_"). Purpose: using the example of D. London's story, to understand that a person must always remain a person and continue to fight for life to the last. What is the love of life?

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

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

Task number 1: Continue the story about Bill. Group work:

realizes worries overcomes the fear that Bill will leave him about being without fire was 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 number 1: Continue the story about Bill. Task number 2: Continue the story about the fight between the hero and the wolf. Group work:

realizes worries possesses conquers the fear that Bill will leave him about being without fire was afraid to die a violent death life is more important than gold betrayal of a friend from the mud of the spirit patience prudence endurance hunger physical pain loneliness The hero of the story

The strength of the spirit is an inner fire that elevates a person to nobility, selfless and courageous deeds.

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

Task number 1: Continue the story about Bill. Task number 2: Continue the story about the fight between the hero and the wolf. Task number 3: What is the name of Jack London's story? Group work: desire to survive desire to live 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 man. Conclusion: Jack London in his work tells us that a person is capable of much, that no gold is worth the price of a human life, and that the main character has retained the most valuable thing - life. The strength of the human spirit knows no bounds. If he wants, he will conquer death. Love for life is stronger than the thirst for money, stronger than illness, loneliness, fear. The most precious thing for a person is life.

Topic: What is the love of life? (According to Jack London's story "Love of Life"). Purpose: using the example of D. London's story, to understand that a person must always remain a person and continue to fight for life to the last. What is the love of life? This is faith in the power of man, in his strength of mind, in the desire to live, faith in camaraderie and friendship.

Task number 1: Continue the story about Bill. Task number 2: Continue the story about the fight between the hero and the wolf. Task number 4: Make a plan for an essay - reasoning on the topic: What is love for life? Task number 3: What is the name of Jack London's story? Group work:

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

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

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

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

Introduction by the teacher.

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

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

Storytelling conversation.

Why are there no descriptions of the appearance, character of the protagonist, not even his name?

It shows how a person can act in an extreme situation.

What is an emergency situation?

- (from Lat. extremus “extreme”) An extreme situation is a situation that is extremely tense, dangerous, requiring the highest rise in 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 spiritual 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 to die a violent death.
Can he overcome his fears?
To stay alive, what sacrifices did a person make?- Dropped 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 a life alone.
Do you think Bill reached his goal?Group work: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 reread the last lines "He turned away ...". Why is the hero thinking like this?“He survived because he was able to overcome his fear and greed.
Why didn't the hero take Bill's gold?He realized that life is more important than gold.
The man is trying to survive. Is it only a human? Who else is trying to survive in this harsh land? 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? - It's a symbol of death , which drags after life, by all indications a person must perish, die. Then 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?Group work:continue the story of the duel between man and beast.

We see that the man and the wolf are sick, weak, but still the man wins. What helped man to win over animals?- Fortitude, patience, prudence, endurance.
What is the power of the spirit?
- Strength of mind - inner fire that elevates a person to nobility, selfless and courageous deeds.

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

The hero survived. He survived thanks to fortitude, patience, endurance. And what feeling helped a person overcome the fear of death, survive the betrayal of a friend, 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.Group work:What is the name of Jack London's story?
Why is Jack London's story called "The 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 a human life, and that the main character has preserved the most valuable thing - this is life. The strength of the human spirit knows no bounds. If he wants, he will conquer death. Love for life is stronger than the thirst for money, stronger than illness, loneliness, fear. The most precious thing for a person is life.

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

Preparation for writing.Group work:drawing up a plan for an essay-reasoning. (Method of intellect map).

Essay topic: What is love for 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 lat. extremus "extreme") - a situation that is extremely tense, dangerous, requiring from a person the highest rise in mental and physical strength.

Strength of mind

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

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

Preview:

Jack London.

Limping, they went down to the river, and once the one in front staggered, stumbling in the middle of the stone placer. Both were tired and exhausted, and their faces expressed patient resignation - a trace of long hardships. Their shoulders were weighed down by heavy packs tied with straps. Each of them carried a gun. Both walked hunched over, bowing their heads low and not raising their eyes.

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

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

The second traveler slipped on a smooth boulder and almost fell, but kept on his feet, crying out loudly in pain. He must have felt dizzy.” He staggered and waved his free hand as if he were grasping for air. When he had regained his composure, he took a step forward, but staggered again and almost fell. Then he stopped and looked at his companion: he was still walking ahead, not even looking back.

For a full minute he stood motionless, as if thinking, then he shouted:

Listen, Bill, I sprained my leg!

Bill had already climbed to the other side and trudged on. The one who stood in the middle of the river did not take his eyes off him. His lips trembled so violently that the stiff red mustache above them moved. He licked dry lips with the tip of his tongue.

Bill! he shouted.

It was a desperate plea from a man in distress, but Bill didn't turn his head. His comrade watched for a long time as he clumsily, limping and stumbling, climbed the gentle slope to the undulating horizon line formed by the crest of a low hill. He followed until Bill was out of sight, over the ridge. Then he turned away and slowly looked around at the circle of the universe in which he was left alone after the departure of Bill.

Above the very horizon, the sun shone dimly, barely visible through the darkness and thick fog, which lay in a dense veil, without visible boundaries and 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 has lost count; since it was the end of July and the beginning of August, he knew that the sun must be in the northwest. He looked to the south, realizing that somewhere 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 stream in the midst of which he stood was a tributary of the Coppermine, and the Coppermine also flows north and empties into Coronation Bay, into the Arctic Ocean. He himself had never been there, but he had seen these places on a map of the Hudson's Bay Company.

He looked again at that circle of the universe, in which he was now alone. The picture was unhappy. Low hills closed the horizon in a monotonous wavy line. 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 boundless desert overwhelmed him with its invincible strength, oppressed him with its terrible calmness. He trembled as if in a fever, and his gun splashed into the water. This made him come to his senses. He overcame his fear, gathered his courage and, dipping his hand into the water, groped for a gun, then moved the bale closer to his left shoulder so that the weight would put less pressure on his injured leg, and slowly and carefully walked towards the shore, wincing in pain.

He walked without stopping. Ignoring the pain, with desperate determination, he hurriedly climbed to the top of the hill, behind the crest of which Bill disappeared - and he himself seemed even more ridiculous and awkward than the lame, barely hobbled Bill. But from the ridge he saw that there was no one in the shallow valley! Fear attacked him again, and, again overcoming it, 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. At every step, she splashed from under her feet, and the sole with a squelch came off the wet moss. Trying to follow in the footsteps of Bill, 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 firs and firs, low and stunted, surround the small lake Titchinnicili, which in the local language means: "Land of Little Sticks." 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 he will go up the stream to the very watershed. From the watershed another stream begins, flowing to the west; he will go down it to the river Dees and there he will find his hiding place under an overturned canoe, littered with stones. The cache contains cartridges, hooks and fishing lines for fishing rods and a small net - everything you need in order to get your own food. And there is also flour - though a little, and a piece of brisket, and beans.

Bill will wait for him there, and the two of them will go down the Deese to the Great Bear Lake, and then they will cross the lake and go south, all south, and the winter will catch up with them, and the rapids in the river will freeze over, and the days will become colder, - south, to some Hudson's Bay trading post, where tall, powerful trees grow and where you can eat as much as you want.

That's what the traveler was thinking with difficulty making his way forward. But hard as 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 it would make no sense to fight on - all that remained was to lie down on the ground and die. And as the dim disk of the sun slowly hid in the northwest, he had time 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. He went over and over in his mind the stock of food in his hiding place and the stock in the warehouse of the Hudson's Bay Company. He had not eaten anything for two days, but he did not eat his fill for even longer. Every now and then he bent down, picked the pale marsh berries, put them in his mouth, chewed them and swallowed them. The berries were watery and quickly melted in the mouth, leaving only the bitter hard seed. He knew that one would not get enough of them, but nevertheless he chewed patiently, because hope does not want to reckon with experience.

At nine o'clock he bruised his big toe on a stone, staggered and fell from weakness and fatigue. For a long time he lay on his side without moving; then he freed himself from the straps, awkwardly got up and sat down. It was not yet dark, and in the twilight light he began to rummage among the stones, picking up patches 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 bale and first of all counted how many matches he had. There were sixty-seven of them. In order not to make a mistake, he counted three times. He divided them into three piles and wrapped each in parchment; he put one bundle in an empty pouch, another in the lining of a worn cap, and a third in his bosom. When he had done all this, he suddenly became afraid; he unfolded all three bundles and counted again. There were still sixty-seven matches.

He dried his wet shoes by the fire. The moccasins were all tattered, the socks sewn from the blanket were worn through, and his feet were worn to the blood. The ankle was in great pain, and he examined it: it was swollen, almost as thick as the knee. He tore off a long strip from one of the blankets and tightly bandaged his ankle, tore off several more strips and wrapped them around his legs, replacing socks and moccasins with this, then he drank boiling water, started his watch and lay down, hiding himself with a blanket.

He slept like the dead. By midnight it was dark, but not for long. The sun rose in the northeast - or rather, it began to get light in that direction, because the sun was hiding 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 propping himself up on his elbow, he heard a loud snort and saw a large deer, which was wary and

looked at him curiously. 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 an unloaded gun, took aim and pulled the trigger. The deer snorted and ran away, hooves clattering on the rocks. He cursed, threw the gun away, and with a groan tried to get to his feet. He succeeded with great difficulty and slowly. His joints seemed to have rusted, and it took a great effort of will each time to bend or straighten. When he finally got to his feet, it took him another full minute to straighten up and stand straight, as a man should.

He climbed up a small mound and looked around. No trees, no bushes - nothing but a gray sea of moss, where only occasionally were gray boulders, gray lakes and gray streams. The sky was gray too. Not a ray of sunshine, not a glimpse of the sun! He has lost the idea of where north is and has forgotten which direction he came from last night. But he didn't go astray. This he knew. Soon he will come to the Land of Small Sticks. He knew that she was somewhere to the left, not far from here - perhaps over the next gentle hill.

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

He turned left and went on, stopping from time to time and picking marsh berries. His leg became stiff and his limp became worse, but the pain meant nothing compared to the pain in his stomach. Hunger tormented him unbearably. The pain gnawed and gnawed at him, and he no longer understood in which direction he had to go in order to get to the country of the Little Sticks. The berries did not satisfy the gnawing pain, they only stung the tongue and palate.

When he reached a small hollow, white partridges rose up to meet him from stones and bumps, 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 to them, crawling like a cat creeps up to 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 through 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 fluttered all around him, and finally, this "cr - cr" began to seem to him a mockery; he scolded the partridges and began to mimic their cry loudly.

Once he almost ran into a partridge, which must have been asleep. He didn't see her until she fluttered right into his face from her hiding place among the rocks. No matter how quickly the partridge fluttered, he managed to grab it with the same quick movement - and in his hand he had three tail feathers. Watching the partridge fly away, he felt such hatred for her, as if she had done him terrible harm. Then he went back to his pack and put it on his back.

By the middle of the day he reached the marsh, where there were more game. As if teasing him, a herd of deer passed by, twenty heads, so close that they could be shot with a gun. He was seized with a wild desire to run after them, he was sure that he would catch up with the herd. Towards him came across a black-brown fox with a partridge in his teeth. He screamed. The cry was terrible, but the fox, jumping back in fright, still did not release the prey.

In the evening he walked along the bank of a stream muddy with lime, overgrown with rare reeds. Firmly grasping a stalk of reeds at the very root, he pulled out something like an onion, no larger than a wallpaper nail. The bulb turned out to be soft and appetizingly crunched on the teeth. But the fibers were tough, as watery as berries, and did not saturate. He dropped his load 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 Small Sticks, and even more hunger, did not give him rest. He looked for frogs in the lakes, dug the earth 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 peered into every puddle, and finally, at dusk, he saw in such a puddle a single fish the size of a gudgeon. He put 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 lifted all the mud from the bottom. From excitement, he stumbled, fell into the water and was soaked to the waist. He muddied the water so much that the fish could not be seen, and he had to wait until the mud settles to the bottom.

He again set to fishing and fished until the water again became muddy. He couldn't wait any longer. Untying the tin bucket, he began to bail out water. At first he bailed out furiously, drenched himself all over and splashed 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 trembling. Half an hour later, there was almost no water left in the puddle. Nothing could be scooped up from the bottom. But the fish is gone. He saw an imperceptible crevice among the stones, through which a fish slipped into a nearby puddle, so large that it could not be dredged out 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 desperation, he sank to the wet ground and wept. At first he wept quietly, then he began to weep loudly, awakening the merciless desert that surrounded him; and wept for a long time without tears, shaking with sobs.

He built a fire and warmed himself by drinking a lot of boiling water, then arranged for himself to spend the night on a rocky ledge, just as he had done the previous night. Before going to bed, he checked the matches for dampness and wound up the clock. The blankets were damp and cold to the touch. The whole leg burned with pain, like on fire. But he felt only hunger, and at night he dreamed of feasts, dinner parties and tables filled 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 was blowing, and the first snowfall whitened the hills. The air seemed to thicken and turn white as he lit a fire and boiled water. It brought down the wet snow 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 the signal for him to put the pack on his back again and trudge forward, no one knows where. He no longer thought of the Land of Little Sticks, or of Bill, or of the cache by the River Dees. They had only one desire: to eat! He went mad with hunger. He didn't care where he went, as long as he walked on level ground. Under the wet snow, he groped for watery berries, pulled out the stalks of reeds with roots. But it was all insipid and not satiating. Then he came across some kind of sour-tasting grass, and he ate as much as he could find, but this 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 the sun. Rain stopped. Now the traveler's hunger has blunted. There was a dull, aching pain in the stomach, but it did not really torment him. His mind cleared, and he thought again of the Land of the Little Sticks and his hiding place by the River Dez.

He tore the rest of one of the blankets into strips and wrapped his bleeding legs around him, then bandaged his bad leg and prepared for the day's march. When it came to the bale, he looked for a long time at the buckskin pouch, but in the end he grabbed that too.

The rain had melted the snow, leaving only the tops of the hills white. The sun came out, and the traveler managed to determine the cardinal points, although now he knew that he had lost his way. He must have veered too far to the left in his wanderings in these last days. Now he turned to the right to get on the right track.

The pangs of hunger had already dulled, but he felt himself weakened. He often had to stop and rest, picking marsh berries and reed bulbs. His tongue was swollen, became dry, as if rough, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth. And most of all, his heart bothered him. After a few minutes of travel, it began to knock mercilessly, and then seemed to jump up and tremble painfully, bringing him to suffocation and dizziness, almost to fainting.

Around noon he saw two minnows in a large puddle. Bailing out the water was unthinkable, but now he was calmer and managed to catch them with a tin pail. They were about the length of a little finger, no more, but he was not particularly hungry. The pain in the stomach was getting weaker, becoming less and less acute, as if the stomach was dozing. He ate the fish raw, carefully chewing them, and this was a purely rational act. He did not want to eat, but he knew that it was necessary to stay alive.

In the evening he caught three more minnows, ate two, and left the third for breakfast. The sun had dried up the occasional patches of moss, and he warmed himself by boiling 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 pains in his stomach no longer bothered him; the stomach seemed to fall asleep. The area was now unfamiliar to him, deer came across more and more often and wolves too. Very often their howl reached him from the desert distance, and once he saw three wolves, which, stealthily, crossed the road.

Another night, and the next morning, having finally come to his senses, he untied the strap that tightened the leather pouch. Coarse gold sand and nuggets rained down 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 poured the other back into the bag. He also used his last blanket to wrap his legs. But he still did not throw the gun away, because there were cartridges in a cache near the Dees River.

… Fog again. He used up half of the blanket for 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 on the ground. By evening, he threw away the other half, leaving himself only a piece of blanket, a tin bucket and a gun.

He began to suffer obsessive thoughts. For some reason, he was sure that he had one cartridge left - the gun was loaded, he just did not notice it. And at the same time, he knew that there was no cartridge in the magazine. This thought haunted him. He fought with it for hours, then looked around the magazine and made sure that there was no cartridge in it. The disappointment was so strong, as if he really 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 help himself in any way, he again examined the gun. At times his mind was confused, and he continued to wander on unconsciously, like an automaton; strange thoughts and absurd notions whetted 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 spectacle, from which he immediately almost fainted. He swayed and staggered like a drunk, trying to stay on his feet. There was a horse in front of him. Horse! He didn't believe his eyes. They were covered in a thick fog pierced by bright points of light. He rubbed his eyes furiously, and when his vision cleared, he saw before him not a horse, but a large brown bear. The beast regarded him with unfriendly curiosity. He had already raised his gun, but quickly came to his senses. Lowering his gun, he drew a hunting knife from its beaded scabbard. 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 him. But the heart pounded, as if warning: knock, knock, knock - then it jumped wildly upwards and trembled fractionally; forehead squeezed, as if with an iron hoop, and darkened in the eyes.

Desperate courage was washed away by a wave of fear. He is so weak - what will happen if the bear attacks him? He drew himself up to his full height as imposingly as possible, drew his knife and looked the bear straight in the eyes. The beast lumbered forward, reared up and growled. If a man started to run, the bear would chase him. But the man did not move from his place, emboldened by fear; he, too, snarled, savagely like a wild animal, expressing the fear that is inextricably linked with life and is intimately intertwined with its deepest roots.

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

Gathering his strength, he went on, tormented by a new fear. It was no longer the fear of starvation: now he was afraid to die a violent death before the last desire to preserve life died out in him from hunger. There were wolves all around. From all sides in this desert came their howl, and the very air around him breathed threat so relentlessly that he involuntarily raised his hands, pushing away this threat, like the flag of a tent swayed by the wind.

Wolves in twos and threes now and then crossed his path. But they didn't come close. There weren't many of them; besides, they were accustomed to hunting deer, which did not resist them, and this strange animal walked on two legs, and must have scratched and bitten.

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

But he didn't talk long. Soon he was squatting, holding the bone in his teeth and sucking out of it the last bits of life that still stained it pink. The sweet taste of meat, barely audible, elusive, like a memory, drove him to madness. 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 swallow 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 blows.

Terrible days of rain and snow came. He no longer remembered when he stopped for the night and when he set off again. He walked, without understanding the time, night and day, rested where he fell, and dragged forward when the life that was fading in him flared up and flared up brighter. He no longer fought the way people fight. It was the very life in him that did not want to perish and drove him forward. He didn't suffer anymore. His nerves were blunted, as if numb, strange visions crowded in his brain, rosy dreams.

He constantly sucked and chewed on the crushed bones, which he picked up to the last crumb and took with him. He no longer climbed the hills, did not cross the watersheds, but wandered along the sloping bank of a large river that flowed through a wide valley. Before his eyes were only visions. His soul and body walked side by side and yet apart - the thread that connected them became so thin.

He regained consciousness one morning while lying on a flat stone. The sun shone brightly and warmed. From a distance he could hear the mooing of deer. He vaguely remembered rain, wind and snow, but how long the bad weather had pursued 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 miserable body with warmth. Good day, he thought. Perhaps he will be able to determine the direction of the sun. With a painful effort, he rolled onto his side. Down there, a wide, sluggish river flowed. She was a stranger to him, and that surprised him. He slowly followed its course, watched it meander through bare, gloomy hills, even gloomier and lower than those he had seen so far. Slowly, indifferently, without any interest, he followed the course of an unfamiliar river almost to the very horizon and saw that it was pouring into a bright, shining sea. And yet it did not excite him. "Very strange," he thought, "this is either a mirage or a vision, the product of a frustrated imagination." He was even more convinced of this when he saw a ship anchored in the midst of a glittering sea. He closed his eyes for a second and opened them again. It is strange that the vision does not disappear! And yet, 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 its unloaded gun.

He heard some sniffling behind him - not a sigh, not a cough. Very slowly, overcoming extreme weakness and stupor, he turned on his other side. Nearby, he saw nothing and began to wait patiently. Again he heard sniffling and coughing, and between two pointed stones, no more than twenty paces away from him, he saw the gray head of a wolf. The ears did not stick up, as he had seen in other wolves, his eyes became cloudy and bloodshot, his head drooped helplessly. The wolf must have been sick: he was sneezing and coughing all the time.

“At least it doesn’t seem like it,” he thought, and again turned on his other side to see the real world, now not shrouded in a 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 finally understood what it was. He went northeast, moving away from the River Dees, and got into the valley of the Coppermine. This wide, slow river was the Coppermine. This the glittering sea is the Arctic Ocean.This ship is a whaling ship that has sailed far east of the mouth of the Mackenzie River and is anchored in Coronation Bay.He remembered a map of the Hudson's Bay Company he had seen once, and everything became clear and understandable.

He sat down and began to think about the most pressing matters. The wrappings from the blanket were completely worn out, and his legs were torn to living meat. The last blanket was used up. He lost his gun and knife. The hat was also gone, but the matches in the pouch in the bosom, wrapped in parchment, remained intact and not damp. He looked at his watch. They were still walking and showing 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 did not want to eat. The thought of food was even unpleasant to him, and everything he did was done by him at the behest of reason. He tore off his trousers to the knees and tied them around his feet. For some reason he did not leave the bucket: he would have to drink boiling water before starting the journey to the ship - very difficult, as he foresaw.

All his movements were slow. He trembled as if paralyzed. He wanted to pick up some dry moss, but he couldn't get to his feet. Several times he tried to get up and eventually crawled on all fours. Once he crawled very close to a sick wolf. The beast reluctantly stepped aside and licked its muzzle, forcibly moving its tongue. The man noticed that the tongue was not healthy, red, but yellowish-brown, covered with semi-dried mucus.

After drinking boiling water, he felt that he could rise to his feet and even walk, although his strength was almost running out. He had to rest almost every minute. He walked with weak, unsteady steps, and the wolf trailed after him with the same weak, unsteady steps. And that night, when the glittering sea hid in darkness, the man realized that he had come no closer than four miles to him.

At night, he heard the cough of a sick wolf all the time, and sometimes the cries of deer. 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 person in the hope that this person 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, despondent dog, stood with its head bowed and its tail between its legs. He shivered in the cold wind and bared his teeth grimly as the man spoke to him in a voice that dropped to a hoarse whisper.Main thought -

Proof -

Examples -

Conclusion -

The story "Love of Life" by Jack London, a summary of which we are considering today, is an incredible story. It 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 are walking towards a big river. Their shoulders are pulled by heavy bales. Their faces express tired humility. One of the travelers ford the river. The second one stops at the water's edge. He feels like he twisted his leg. 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 not hearing the desperate cry of a friend, he wanders on. Here he is hiding behind a low hill, and the person is left alone.

They were heading to Lake Titchinnicili (translated from the language of the natives, this name meant "Land of small sticks"). Before that, the partners washed up several impressive bags of golden sand. The stream that flowed from the lake flowed into the River Dees, where the travelers had a cache of supplies. There were not only cartridges, but also small supplies of provisions. The little that should have helped to survive. Now our hero is carrying a gun without cartridges, a knife and some blankets.

She and Bill have a plan. They'd find a hiding place and head south to some trading post in Hudson's Bay.

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

lonely traveler

The man tries not to think about Bill leaving him. He tries to convince himself that Bill is waiting for him in their shared hiding place. If this hope is extinguished, all that will be left for him is to 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 he meets on the way. He hasn't eaten in 2 days. And satiety - and even more.

At night, hitting his finger on a stone, he falls to the ground without strength. And here I decided to make a halt. He counted the remaining matches several times (there were exactly 67 of them) and hid them in the pockets of his clothes, which turned into tatters.

He slept like the dead. Woke up at dawn. The man gathered his supplies and stood in thought over the bag of golden sand. He weighed 15 pounds. At first he decided to leave it. But again eagerly grabbed. 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. From 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 does not have a gun, and a knife can hardly kill a bird. He throws a stone at the birds, but misses. One of them takes off right in front of his nose. Several feathers remain in his hand. He looks with hatred after the birds.

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 is looking 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 about it. But no longer in control.

In a large puddle he sees a fish. Gets wet in dirty water up to the waist, but cannot reach it. Finally, having scooped up the entire puddle with a small bucket, he realizes that the fish has escaped through a small crevice in the stones.

Desperate, he sits on the ground and cries. His crying grows stronger every minute, turns into a sob.

Sleep brought no relief. The leg burns, as if on fire, the hunger does not let go. He feels cold and sick. Clothes have long turned into rags, moccasins are completely ruined. However, only one thought beats in the inflamed brain - there is! He doesn't think about the lake, he forgot about Bill. The man is going crazy with hunger.

Telling a summary of "Love of Life" by Jack London, it is difficult to convey the obsession that takes possession of the hero.

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

Last wish is to live

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

In the morning, he spends half of the blanket on windings for his injured 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 is no longer of value to him.

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

Life or death?

Suddenly he sees a horse in front of him. But he understands that this is a mirage, he rubs his eyes from the thick fog that envelops 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 throw himself at the beast... But suddenly fear seizes him. He is so weak, what if a bear attacks him? Now he is beginning to fear being eaten.

In the evening he finds deer bones gnawed by wolves. He tells himself that dying is not scary, just sleep is enough. But the thirst for life makes him greedily pounce on the bones. He breaks his teeth about them, begins to crush them with a stone. Gets on his fingers, but does not feel pain.

Path to the ship

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

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

His consciousness clears up, he realizes that he has come to the Coppermine River, which flows into the Arctic Ocean. The hero of the story "Love of Life" by Jack London, the summary of which we are considering, no longer feels pain, only weakness. A huge weakness that does not allow him to rise. 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. It's probably Bill's bones. The man sees traces of wolf paws around. And a bag of gold. But he doesn't take it for himself. For several days he wanders to the ship, then falls to all fours and crawls. A trail of blood trails behind him. But he does not want to die, does not want to be eaten by a wolf. His mind is again clouded by hallucinations. But during one of the clarifications, he gathers his strength and strangles the wolf with the weight of his body. He eventually drinks his blood and falls asleep.

Crew members of the whaling ship Bedford soon find something crawling on dry land. They save him. But for a long time he, like a beggar, begged for crackers from the sailors, as if he was not fed during common meals. However, before arriving at the port of San Francisco, this stops. He fully recovered.

Conclusion

He fights for life with death - and wins this duel. His actions are amazing, but he is driven 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. Admiration.

John Griffith Cheney (better known to the world as Jack London) wrote quite a lot in his short life. The themes of all his works are very similar: he wrote about life and love for it.

This article will focus on the famous story of the great writer Jack London - "Love of Life". A summary of the work, information about the history of its writing, as well as the topics covered in it, you can find in the article.

Biography of the writer

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

The life of young John was not easy: even in his school years, he began to work, 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 with this way of life he would not last long.

Fateful voyage

In 1893, a momentous 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 to catch fur seals. This voyage impressed London very much and, in fact, became the impetus for the development of his work, which was based on the marine theme. The essay "Typhoon off the coast of Japan" written by him then 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 stories, which turned an ordinary sailor into a great prose writer. About two dozen novels and short 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, in order to save himself from a severe attack of pain, John took an overdose of sleeping pills. Thus died the great writer Jack London, 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 quite short, only ten pages, and it can be read very quickly. Through 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" has been positively evaluated by many critics and famous personalities. So, the leader of the world proletariat, Vladimir Lenin, loved this work, calling it "a very strong thing." It is known that Nadezhda Krupskaya read exactly this story to Lenin two days before his death.

"Love of life": a summary

It is worth recalling once again that the story itself is not long, therefore, it may be more advisable to read it directly and no longer waste time reading its summary. Nevertheless, we suggest that you familiarize yourself with the retelling of the work "Love of Life".

The 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 cartridges to kill at least 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 go further. It was just that love of life. A brief clouding of reason was again replaced by a burning desire to survive, and new forces were found.

The hero of the story feeds on everything that comes his 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 got to his feet, took out a knife and looked the bear straight in the eyes. Much to my 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 protagonist meets a wolf - as weak and exhausted as he is. The confrontation between man and wolf lasts long enough. Neither one nor the other had the strength to attack the enemy. And the wolf just crawled along, waiting for the traveler to die, and it would be possible to eat him. But the main character does not give up, besides, he was disgusted to think that this vile, almost already dead animal could eat his body.

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 against his neck. The most terrible and unimaginable episode of the story is the one when a man kills a wolf with his teeth, drinking his blood in order to survive.

In the end, the hero goes to the sea, where he is noticed by sailors on a whaling ship. And they were not sure that it was a person. The struggle for life had worn him out so badly and exhausted him.

The main characters of the story

The struggle for existence, survival - this is what underlies the story "Love for Life", the heroes of which fight to the last for this very life. Yes, it's the heroes. After all, the wolf fought this fight in the same way as the man.

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

Apparently, it is no coincidence that Jack London leaves his main character without a name, because it does not matter at all 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 lies in its title - it is the love of life. The content of the story helps us to understand this issue in more detail.

More specifically, the main idea of this story is the struggle of man with nature for the right of his existence. And he, thanks to courage and perseverance (and, perhaps, just because he is a man), manages to emerge victorious from this fight. 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 age-old question: "What is the meaning of life?" This philosophical problem runs like a red thread through all his work.

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

One of the most famous works in world literature of the twentieth century is the story of John Griffith London "Love of Life". A brief summary, of course, will allow you to get a general idea of \u200b\u200bit. However, in order to better feel, understand this story, it is better to read the work in the original.

History of the creation of the story

The story "Love of Life" was written by the American writer Jack London in 1905, published in a collection of stories about the adventures of gold diggers in 1907. It seems possible that the story has a share of autobiography, at least it has a real basis, since the writer gained considerable life and writing experience, sailing as a sailor on schooners and taking part in the conquest of the North during the days of the "gold rush". Life provided him with a lot of impressions, which he expressed in his works.

Adds true reality and the geographical detail with which the author depicts the path of his hero - from the Great Bear Lake to the mouth of the Coppermine River, which flows into the Arctic Ocean.

Plot, characters, story idea

The end of the 19th century was marked by a whole chain of "gold rushes" - people in search of gold massively explored California, Klondike, Alaska. A typical picture is also presented in the story "Love for Life". Two friends traveling in search of gold (and having obtained a decent amount) did not calculate their strength for the return trip. There are no provisions, no cartridges, no elementary mental and physical resources - all actions are performed automatically, as if in a fog. The hero, crossing the stream, stumbles and injures his leg. A comrade named Bill, without the slightest thought, leaves him and leaves without even turning around.

The main character is left to fight. He cannot get animal food, the fish escapes from a small lake, despite the fact that he manually scoops out all the water from the reservoir. Gold had to be abandoned due to its weight. Bill's fate turned out to be sad - the nameless hero came across a bunch of pink bones, tattered clothes and a bag of gold.

The culmination of the story is an encounter with a wolf, too sick and weak to attack a man, but clearly hoping to feast on the corpse of a man when he dies of exhaustion and exhaustion. The hero and the wolf guard each other, because he is on an equal footing and in each of them speaks the instinct of survival - the blind and strongest love of life in the world.

The protagonist pretends to be dead, waiting for the wolf to attack, and when he attacks, the man does not even strangle him - he crushes him with his weight and gnaws the wolf's neck.

Near the sea, the crew of a whaler notices a ridiculous swarming creature on the shore, crawling to the water's edge. The hero is accepted on the ship and soon they notice his strangeness - he does not eat the bread served for dinner, but hides it under the mattress. Such insanity developed because of the long, insatiable hunger that he had to experience. However, it soon passed.

The story is built on the opposition first of Bill and the nameless hero, then - the nameless hero and the wolf. Moreover, Bill loses in this comparison, since he is compared taking into account moral criteria and is defeated, and the wolf remains on an equal footing with the hero, since nature does not know pity, like a man brought to the last line.

The main idea of the story is the idea that the struggle of man with nature for the right to exist is merciless, despite the fact that man is also armed with reason. In critical situations, we are guided by instinct or love of life, and practice shows that the strongest survive. Nature does not know pity and indulgence for the weak, equalizing the rights of predators and herbivores. From the point of view of natural survival, Bill considered himself right in getting rid of the ballast in the form of an injured friend. But it is more important to remain human to the end.

Having stumbled upon the remains of his dead comrade in the tundra, he does not gloat and takes his gold for himself. He does not rush to the remains out of hunger (although the day before we see how he ate live chicks), and this becomes the last, extreme manifestation of human dignity.

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 before 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 desert Canadian lands towards Hudson Bay. Abandoned by his friend Bill in the middle of the river, as soon as he twists his leg and turns into a burden, the man, exhausted by prolonged starvation, 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 the cache with cartridges, fishing tackle and a small supply of food in order to be able to go to the area with more food, which is 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 little to do with the social status of their carrier.

The protagonist of "Love of Life" can be 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 story he shows the internal struggle between the hero's desire for life and his unwillingness 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 a strong weakness makes him make this decision.

The first attempt to leave the bag is made by the hero as soon as he is 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 takes place against the backdrop of severe hunger, bringing the hero to a semi-conscious state, when he decides to hide half of his treasures in a noticeable rock ledge. The third (final) attempt to throw off a life-threatening burden is carried out at the moment of the highest despair (the traveler sees the traces of a friend who betrayed him) and the complete dulling of any feelings except hunger (the hero eats alive the newly hatched partridge chicks, and then spends half a day in a fruitless pursuit of their knocked-out mother). At this stage of the journey, the man no longer regrets and does not hide (he does not have the strength to do this): he throws the gold on the ground and moves on.

The deserted land does not give the traveler the opportunity to ask for help from people, the lack of cartridges - to hunt, the lack of fishing tackle - to fish. Strong physical exhaustion deprives dexterity (the hero cannot catch not so mobile partridges), internal (the character is not able to fight the bear that came out to meet him) and external strength (neither a fox carrying caught prey in his teeth, nor a sick wolf is afraid of a weak person , for which a healthy person is a mortal danger). The only way to get enough - marsh berries and bulbs of reeds - do not give even a hundredth of what a person needs to maintain strength. Hunger drives the hero crazy - puts into his head thoughts about a non-existent patron, deprives him of fear of violent death. The traveler sees food in every living being. The latter becomes for him the only way to maintain life in himself.

At first, the main character feeds himself with hopes - for a new meeting with Bill, who is waiting for him at the cache of ammunition and provisions, for a trip to the Land of Small Sticks, from where you can get to an area abounding in tall trees and numerous living creatures. Then the traveler is left with nothing but the natural desire to be satisfied. Trying to solve the problem of hunger, the hero stops at nothing: day after day he eats plant foods that come 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 that gets into his hands - fish, chicks, the remains of meat on the bones of a lamb gnawed by wolves, and even the bones themselves. The only thing a man does not dare to do is eat the remains of a 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, decisive 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 even go, 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 person, once in his natural habitat, cannot recover for a long time: he greedily absorbs food all the way to San Francisco, looks with hatred on how other people eat, and constantly begging the sailors for crackers to fill his berth with them.

The love of life is shown in the story through simple (gathering, hunting, saving strength, kindling a fire, bandaging legs, the inflexibility of the human spirit in the fight against hunger, cold and own weakness) and terrible (injuries, pain, sleeping in the rain, loss of orientation in space). , spending a huge amount of energy on the extraction of constantly elusive food, the absorption of living beings by a person) 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 his life, but still retaining the remnants of human dignity, manifested in unwillingness to eat the bones of a deceased friend.

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Jack London love of life theme. Russian Literature Lesson "Jack London"

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Betrayal

lonely traveler

Crazy Hunger

Last wish is to live

Life or death?

Path to the ship

Conclusion

Biography of the writer

Fateful voyage

"Love of life"

"Love of life": a summary

The betrayal of a comrade and the fight against hunger

Confrontation with the wolf

The main characters of the story

The main idea of ​​the work

Plot, characters, story idea

The main idea of the work