Jack London's "To Build a Fire": literary analysis I

Source: Popular Writing in America: The Interaction of Style and Audience

Jack London lived a life of real adventure. The adventures he had provided a strong foundation for the stories he would write. He was a man who traveled the same Yukon Territory his stories were set in. The result of these experiences were two of his best-known novels, Call of The Wild and White Fang, which provide their readers with rich, contextual images of life on the trails. However, it is his knack for short story that is the focus of this stylistic analysis.

London’s “To Build a Fire” is regarded as his best short work. The rigorous, calculated structure of London’s story provides a lesson to those who dare set out against the unknown. London uses many devices in his story to reflect nature’s often-formidable quality which the man’s thoughts and actions are in conflict with. These devices include: long paragraphs, repetition, and the literary device known as the “rule of three.” Each of these devices works together, within the other, to move the plot forward.

The paragraphs of the story stay roughly the same length throughout the story, averaging fourteen sentences. The paragraphs are used to convey a sense of what the landscape is like. For example, in the exposition, the second paragraph is described in such a way that also lets the reader know the Yukon is uncharted territory: “It was all pure white, rolling in gentle undulations […] North and South, as far as the eye could see, it was unbroken white […] This dark hairline was the trail—the main trail—that led five hundred miles to the Chilcoot Pass […]” (561). These few clauses allude to the structuring of the paragraphs, and describe the landscape setting. The entire second paragraph is this description. Therefore, the uncharted paths of adventure are much like the unread paragraphs of a narrative—unchanging. But the Yukon is more than uncharted territory; it is a place that demands respect and wisdom from the weary traveler, a place that unwillingly destroys the mind and body of any weak man who lacks the knowledge and preparation. The reader knows and understands this concept, but the man does not.

Obviously, a purpose of London’s repetition is to describe nature as a formidable opponent that eventually impairs the man’s thoughts. For instance, the thought “It certainly was cold” appears approximately four times throughout the story. Other times the narrator notes that there is “no mistake” of the temperature, or says the temperature is “seventy-five below zero” (561-564). However, the temperature itself does not intend to kill the man; the temperature is a characteristic of nature that happens to be there. This means the man’s struggle lies within, and nature, being a formidable force, just happens to stand in the way. Another way the man fights nature is through his actions.  

The man also repeatedly struggles physically against nature throughout the story. The man constantly has to thresh his arms, strike his hands to revive them: “He did not put the mitten on, but, instead, struck the fingers a dozen sharp smashes against his leg”; “He struck the fingers repeatedly and returned them to the mitten”; “He strode up and down, stamping his feet and threshing his arms, until reassured by the returning warmth” (555-556). Note the repetition of these clauses. London repeats the words “struck” and “thresh” to paint an image of the man’s physically desperate attempts to thwart the chilling grasp. The man simply did not know what he was up against, and refused to stop and comprehend. When one does not comprehend what is happening around them, or fails to attain certain results—failing to build a fire—they become frustrated and panic. Such panic happens in a series of repeated events throughout the story.

The “rule of three” serves to formulate events that eventually lead to certain, inevitable outcomes, whether a comedic punch line or tragic event. This method of building tension lends itself to repetition in London’s story but follows the “set up,” “escalation,” and “pay off” structure. Take for instance the third paragraph on page 566, where we are given the set up to the man’s death: “And all the time, in his consciousness, was the knowledge that each instant his feet were freezing. This thought tended to put him in a panic, but he fought against it and kept calm.” Eventually, in a futile effort, the man attempts to kill the dog to save himself. But the man cannot conquer nature (the Yukon, dog) and soon finds himself facing death in the escalation: “A certain fear of death, dull and oppressive, came to him […] This threw him into a panic” (568). Then, finally, in the pay off, the man has one final realization: “he was aware of the panicky feeling that it caused, and he was afraid of the panic. But the thought asserted itself, and persisted […] this was too much, and he made another wild run along the trail” (569). London repeats, again and again, the man’s panic using the rule of three, which escalates the tension and thus leads to the man’s death. The reader knew all along what would happen to the man. The man was too self-assured and ill-prepared, and faced a formidable opponent that unknowingly destroyed his will. Suddenly, in the end, the man not only found beauty in what had once brought panic, but feared and respected nature in death when it was too late. If only he had known.

Jack London knew the terrain the un-named man was struggling in, and certainly knew how to depict life in that setting. With paragraphing, repetition, the rule of three, London flawlessly captured the struggle between man and nature, both mentally and physically. These elements are cyclical, always working within the other, always building, always repeating, but always escalating the plot’s tension. For these reasons, Jack London’s “To Build a Fire” is a wonderful short story and is by far a favorite of mine.