Take a photo of a barcode or cover
paul_cornelius 's review for:
The Cruise of the Snark
by Jack London
I actually finished with Martin Johnson's book, Through the South Seas with Jack London, about the same voyage, before reading London's The Cruise of the Snark. And it's interesting to contrast the two. Of course, London's is the more literary of the two, although Johnson has a somewhat gifted, albeit exaggerated, style of his own. But the odd thing is that if you want a detailed, even more accurate description of the Snark as it sailed from San Francisco to Hawaii and then on to other South Seas locations, then Johnson's is the better book.
Yet London's book is the more memorable. His imagery, his ability to capture the moment, and his skill at stepping outside himself make for a more psychologically complete picture. That is not to say it doesn't have its more disappointing parts. The long discussion on the physics of waves and the chapter devoted to learning navigation are tedious--although they give insight into how London's mind works and his doggedness in pursuing and solving problems. A similar chapter on London's acquisition of certain medical skills, on the other hand, is humorous and reads through at a snap.
And that brings us to the tone of The Cruise of the Snark, which often is, well, snarky. London says he christened his vessel the Snark because he was inspired by Lewis Carroll's imaginary animal that provided an elusive goal. That did prove the case, here, as London was unable to complete his trip due to serious illness among all the crew. But London is well and truly snarky, in the informal sense of the word, throughout. I'm not sure when the word gained its current usage, but London mocks himself, his crew, his wife, many of the people he encounters, as well as his boat. Especially his boat, because, as it turns out, the Snark was a lemon. Just about everything that could go wrong, did go wrong with it. All the promises made in construction turned out to be lies or pipe dreams, and London paid far above and beyond anything resembling a fair price in the purchase. And never does a man skewer himself with such snarkiness for his naivete than does London.
There are also some dreamlike moments, the greatest of which comes when the Snark visits the valley of Typee on Nuku Hiva in the Marquesas, where Herman Melville's novel and real life experiences took place and from which subsequent readers became so enamored of the South Seas. Melville was there in 1842. London arrived sixty-five years later, just in time to see the very last remnants of the world Melville found disappearing into a sort of twilight memory among the very few survivors of the Typee. It is probably the strongest chapter in the book.
Don't let the tone of the book deceive you, however. This was a dangerous journey. The Americans, Japanese, and Tahitians who undertook it with London were from a generation used to privation and difficulties. They were different. They could set sail in a small ketch and cross the Pacific without detailed knowledge of the means to achieve their goals. They could do so even learning navigation while on the job so to speak. The journey of the Snark was a brave adventure. Don't mistake it for an early twentieth century version of today's fake TV survival/adventure shows. It isn't. It was the real thing.
Yet London's book is the more memorable. His imagery, his ability to capture the moment, and his skill at stepping outside himself make for a more psychologically complete picture. That is not to say it doesn't have its more disappointing parts. The long discussion on the physics of waves and the chapter devoted to learning navigation are tedious--although they give insight into how London's mind works and his doggedness in pursuing and solving problems. A similar chapter on London's acquisition of certain medical skills, on the other hand, is humorous and reads through at a snap.
And that brings us to the tone of The Cruise of the Snark, which often is, well, snarky. London says he christened his vessel the Snark because he was inspired by Lewis Carroll's imaginary animal that provided an elusive goal. That did prove the case, here, as London was unable to complete his trip due to serious illness among all the crew. But London is well and truly snarky, in the informal sense of the word, throughout. I'm not sure when the word gained its current usage, but London mocks himself, his crew, his wife, many of the people he encounters, as well as his boat. Especially his boat, because, as it turns out, the Snark was a lemon. Just about everything that could go wrong, did go wrong with it. All the promises made in construction turned out to be lies or pipe dreams, and London paid far above and beyond anything resembling a fair price in the purchase. And never does a man skewer himself with such snarkiness for his naivete than does London.
There are also some dreamlike moments, the greatest of which comes when the Snark visits the valley of Typee on Nuku Hiva in the Marquesas, where Herman Melville's novel and real life experiences took place and from which subsequent readers became so enamored of the South Seas. Melville was there in 1842. London arrived sixty-five years later, just in time to see the very last remnants of the world Melville found disappearing into a sort of twilight memory among the very few survivors of the Typee. It is probably the strongest chapter in the book.
Don't let the tone of the book deceive you, however. This was a dangerous journey. The Americans, Japanese, and Tahitians who undertook it with London were from a generation used to privation and difficulties. They were different. They could set sail in a small ketch and cross the Pacific without detailed knowledge of the means to achieve their goals. They could do so even learning navigation while on the job so to speak. The journey of the Snark was a brave adventure. Don't mistake it for an early twentieth century version of today's fake TV survival/adventure shows. It isn't. It was the real thing.