patriarchal order in the Northland. In its ambitious anatomizing of the regulatory function of the State, the story also harkens back to Londonâs earliest public role as âBoy Socialist of Oaklandâ (in 1895-96), as well as looking forward to his powerful depiction of class warfare in The Iron Heel (1908). No wonder London himself once deemed âThe League of the Old Menâ his favorite story.
After âThe Leagueâ London would continue to publish other tales set in the Klondike, including âLove of Lifeâ (1905) and his most famous short story of all, âTo Build a Fireâ (1908). In addition to these well-known tales of survival, this present edition reprints âThe Sun-Dog Trailâ (first published in 1905)âa brilliant, austere narrative that again takes up the question of writing/ reading in its depiction of an obsessive pursuit through ice and snow with no apparent object. By way of such Northland trailing, London explores the relationship between artistic production and interpretation; although the story would seem to have little to do with race, it is noteworthy that this quest narrative is told by Sitka Charley, appearing for the final time in Londonâs fiction. The âwhiteâ nativeâs role as an illiterate mailman and trail guideâan entrepreneur for hireâsignificantly sheds light on Londonâs self-perception as a writer engaged in his own strenuous pursuit of signs.
The pointed illiteracy of the Indians Imber and Charley also gives us a crucial clue as to what would subsequently become of the question of race in Londonâs Northland. Early in Imberâs mythic account of the white manâs invasion of his tribeâs land, he remarks that the first Wolf brought with him an equally strange hairless dog, who begins breeding with the Indiansâ own wolf-like dogs to produce a new stock of dog, âbig-headed, thick-jawed, and short-haired, and helplessâ in the wilderness. The miscegenation between âWolfâ and âRavenâ clans is thus matched by an analogous miscegenation of their animals, whose offspring bears a striking resemblance to Londonâs most famous creation of all: Buck in The Call of the Wild (1903), which London began composing two months after Children of the Frost was published. As a mail carrier in the wild, learning how to deliver letters without being able to read them, Londonâs animal protagonist closely follows in the footsteps of Imber and carries on the hard work of Charley. The dogâs link to Northland natives is reinforced by his very name; showing up in a number of these tales, including âWhere the Trail Forksâ (which ends with a passage about animal interbreeding), the word âbuckâ at the turn of the century was common slang for an Indian male. As an intelligent beast, not a noble savage, Buck further enables London to treat racial crossing in terms of a naturalist parable of survival. Transforming concepts of race into the concept of species, London at once naturalizes the cultural categories of âwhiteâ and âredâ at the same time that he literalizes his quest for the status of âWolf.â By the end of The Call of the Wild, Buck has actually turned into a wolfâthe very creature that Londonâs men in the Northland could only approximate through totemic identification. Working like a dog, Buck lets his author Jack completely realize the âWolfâ in him: to become in effect his own self-sufficient father.
The Call of the Wild remains Londonâs most enduring fiction. Readers over the years have attributed the narrativeâs power to its lyrical mythopoetic structureâa universal quest-romance celebrating a heroâs initiation, courage, education, survival, and eventual apotheosis. Yet situating the novel in relation to Londonâs first three collections of Northland tales, seeing it as a logical
Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child