A review by mmefish
Martin Eden by Jack London

reflective sad slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? No
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

1.0

I gave this book 5 stars when I read it for the first time at the age of 19. Most likely I was thinking something like "He is just like me... A misunderstood genius, someone DIFFERENT, someone DEEP.... Not like everyone else... I'm too smart for my own good. Ah, the woe is me!" Now, though, I am much closer to the age Jack London was when he wrote "Martin Eden" (33), and all I have to say is damn... what a pompous cock.

You see, Martin Eden is REALLY not like other men. All women want him (the whole book had only one woman not swooned by him—and even she changed her opinion in the end) and all men fear/respect him (or they're just jealous and dumb). He's strong, (really strong), he's healthy (does not get sick, no sir), he can outdrink and outwork anyone. He's generous, he's popular, he's a great dancer. And oh boy, can he write! He's good at poetry, short stories, jokes, full length novels, articles, essays, white prose; philosophy, sociology, politics, biology—he knows it all, and better than anyone. Oh yeah, and music. He's just that good, and everyone else sucks.

At first I thought maybe J. London was making fun of this man, but no. It's a self-insertion. A self-jerk, if you will. Martin Eden is Jack London, and he has showed you (us, small people) all! Now everyone knows how great he really is (ESPECIALLY that girl who has rejected him).

Insufferable quotes from this insufferable book:

She could not follow the flights of his mind, and when his brain got beyond her, she deemed him erratic. Nobody else’s brain ever got beyond her. She could always follow her father and mother, her brothers and Olney; wherefore, when she could not follow Martin, she believed the fault lay with him. It was the old tragedy of insularity trying to serve as mentor to the universal.

But even his [Martin's] earliest efforts were not marked with the clumsiness of mediocrity. What characterized them was the clumsiness of too great strength [...]

He was disappointed in his goal, in the persons he had climbed to be with. On the other hand, he was encouraged with his success. The climb had been easier than he expected. He was superior to the climb, and (he did not, with false modesty, hide it from himself) he was superior to the beings among whom he had climbed.

"I swear that I learn more each month than the average college man learns in a year. [...] Your brothers, to-day, are ignorant barbarians compared with me and the knowledge I have wrung from the books in the hours they were sleeping."

First he had attacked the literature of mysticism, and had done it exceeding well; and, next, he had successfully supplied the very literature he had exposited, thus proving himself to be that rare genius, a critic and a creator in one.

[Martin presents his first published book to his landowner] He was not bragging, not showing off. His sole motive was to make her happy, to make her proud of him, to justify her long faith in him. She put the book in the front room on top of the family Bible.

[Doctor examining M. Eden] "...Positively nothing the matter with you. You are in the pink of condition. Candidly, I envy you your health. It is superb. Look at that chest. There, and in your stomach, lies the secret of your remarkable constitution. Physically, you are a man in a thousand—in ten thousand.”
^ may I add that Martin Eden has been sleeping maximum 5h/night and smoking for at least a year before doctor made this conclusion? Yeah. 

[By a girl who has met Martin Eden maybe 3 times in her life] “My God!” she sobbed. “I could die for you. I could die for you.”
 
A bonus: Jack London about homelessness

“You’re looking good,” Martin said admiringly, “and you’ve put on weight.”
“I sure have.” Joe’s face was beaming. “I never knew what it was to live till I hit hoboin’. I’m thirty pounds heavier an’ feel tiptop all the time. Why, I was worked to skin an’ bone in them old days. Hoboin’ sure agrees with me.”
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