These days, I am seldom left jobless at home. Some or the other work gets me started every day. I have been learning to drive not since very long. Today, I had to go to the ophthalmologist and the dentist for routine check-ups (by the way, I am no 80 years old… just 19) and could hardly give up the chance to drive. I started wheeling through the mild traffic while the driver sat beside guiding me. Feet and hands at work, it was ethereal moving on the road into the orange crimson light of the dim dying sun. With slight jerks as if the car had pangs and short stretches of smooth movement, I drove towards my nearby destination. When all on the road were happily descending to their homes tired from work, I had energy running through every vein and nerve of my body! At that moment, life felt calm, free from the troubling baggage it comes with and passions were lulled to sleep, while the car levitated through the scattered vehicles around, in motion consonant with mine!
The Call of the Wild written by Jack London is a book published in 1903 that garnered great respect in literary, social, and psychological and many artistic fields for depiction of allegorical experience. Among so many novels of similar kind like My Dogs of Northland and Orianda Animals, The Call of the Wild stands out to be a remarkable literary work of fiction by itself.
The book is about a dog named Buck, which is kidnapped from a comfortable house where it lived as pet and is mistreated by numerous people who own it later. Averting one such mistreatment, John Thornton, takes the physically and mentally feeble Buck under his wing and nourishes it with all the love he could give which Buck does not fail to return.
In the end, when a few Indians, primitive as they are, cause the death of Thornton and his other dogs, Buck, who survives by roaming around in the woods at the time of killing, takes revenge by fatally wounding the Indians. It then involuntarily recollects the days it spent in the forest in a primordial manner, fighting and killing other dogs, etc. It answers this call by joining a pack of wolves in the woods and returns in solitude to mourn over Thornton’s death every year.
The story is emotionally surreal and its beauty lies in its thematic haziness. The theme of the story or the message the story tries to deliver are so hazy that anyone would be able to find his own special interest in it. It is a short book of only 103 pages and is recommended for every one of all age groups. Though the language is half cooked and may not be as splendid as everything else in and about the book, The Call of the Wild certainly stands unmatched by any other in its allegory and its construction of the story.