(Call of the Wild Essay) Turning Wild: Development or Retrogression?

Turning Wild: 



Development or Regression?

But to live digging deep



. . .



is to catch the scent 



of a wolf, and turn wild.



-Arthur Sze

    In Call of the Wild by Jack London, Buck, the lead character, lived a life in the tempest.  Thrown violently through time, he found brief purchase on many masters, and he learned quickly.  The hurricane of fate that brought him to Yukon brought many boons, and many hardships.  To start one’s life in a world of sun-kissed ease, a pet, only find that life gone in the blink of an eye and replaced with the arctic chill and the adversity of the north is doubtless difficult, and at many times death-defying, but with toil and hardship comes strength.  For Buck, who survived against all odds, we ask a difficult question.  Was his deliverance into the wild the crippling cruelty of circumstance that left him degraded to nothing but a wild beast, or was it a salvation from the gluttonous sloth of a life without meaning in California leisure?

    To turn away from all that is natural and look instead to the world of comfort presented by modern life is to turn away from one’s self.  When Buck lived in Judge's Miller's place, he was complacent, and he existed without purpose nor meaning.  “During the four years since his puppyhood he had lived the life of a sated aristocrat; he had a fine pride in himself, was even a trifle egotistical, as country gentlemen sometimes become because of their insular situation” (London 1).  He lived a life of self-indulgence, and he was ignorant of everything around him.  In the transition of becoming wild, Buck is strengthened.  His power grows, his will grows, his joy grows, and after a long transformation, it is entirely his own choice to join the pack.  Buck, when presented with absolute freedom, decides to turn wild, and never turns back. 

    But is this a loss or a gain? After ages long past, it is evolution that has delivered Buck to this point.  One-hundred and fifty pounds of muscle, hand in hand with man, he is at the apex.  The world that he lives in no longer needs to be difficult,  this is what his forefathers suffered for.  When a life presents itself in which work is optional, and we can instead pursue our true passions, and develop into ourselves without any delay or setbacks, it would be foolish not to accept whole-heartedly.  When Buck lazed at Judge Miller’s place, he was free, not constricted by the need to survive, as that was taken care of. When he was independent from these nonessential tasks, he was a dog, and he was happy.  From this vantage point, the thought that one must be physically strong and dominant in order to become content is foolish. Buck would be better off staying at Judge Miller’s place to awaken in abundance and amity.

Nonetheless, when Buck returned to the wild, a restoration happened within him. To live sustainably, to live independently, and to live honestly is more passionate and pure than a life of luxury could be. Living without any difficulty is a setback in and of itself. 



It may be true that one does not need power to be happy, but there is so much  that Buck achieves by the end of the book beyond dominance. 



He achieves liberation from the dependance on man.

It was the call, the many-noted call, sounding more luringly and compellingly than ever before. And as never before, he was ready to obey. John Thornton was dead. The last tie was broken. Man and the claims of man no longer bound him. (7)

He achieves legacy. 

But more remarkable than this, the Yeehats tell of a Ghost Dog that runs at the head of the pack. They are afraid of this Ghost Dog, for it has cunning greater than they, stealing from their camps in fierce winters, robbing their traps, slaying their dogs, and defying their bravest hunters. 



(7)

He achieves connection.

This over, he came out of his angle and the pack crowded around him, sniffing in half-friendly, half-savage manner. The leaders lifted the yelp of the pack and sprang away into the woods. The wolves swung in behind, yelping in chorus. And Buck ran with them, side by side with the wild brother, yelping as he ran. (7 ) 

And, more than anything, Meaning.

When the long winter nights come on and the wolves follow their meat into the lower valleys, he may be seen running at the head of the pack through the pale moonlight or glimmering borealis, leaping gigantic above his fellows, his great throat a-bellow as he sings a song of the younger world, which is the song of the pack. (7)

The metaphor used in this book is all about returning to wolf-hood, to the natural state of wild and free.  That metaphor was originally used as an argument against the industrial revolution, but has become even more relevant in our new age of a digital revolution with IPhones, computers, and all manner of smart-tech.  To become so disconnected from our natural state, and to become so disconnected from effort, from the earth, and from each other, though endlessly advertised as an amazing feat of man, is nothing more than a betrayal to ourselves.  Endless evidence suggests that constant consumption hurts our minds, bodies, and souls more than an age before industrialization ever could.  We have regressed into an egotistical tyranny, believing ourselves above the laughable common ways of being. 

    In his transformation, Buck developed, he did not regress.  He became the most true to himself that he could be.  He lived the rest of his life in his natural state, and when one allows themself to be free in that sense, there is nothing holding them back.  Buck lived digging deep, and most importantly, he lived, he did not merely drift.  He sucked the marrow out of life, and with that, his time in the enchanting Alaskan forests was never ill-spent. Dancing in step with the rhythm of our Mother the Earth’s heartbeat, cutting out the chains that confine us to our wretched boxes and customs in favor of the flavor of life itself, and deciding to find enlightenment under the fig tree, will never, and can never be regression.  There is but one question left. Will we parade on without any hope for redemption, or will we heed the call? Will we catch the scent of the wolf, and turn wild?