When Humphrey first boards the Ghost in Chapter 2, London uses imagery—in this case, imagery relating to the sense of touch—to demonstrate the contrast between Humphrey’s previously comfortable lifestyle and the daily physical discomfort experienced by the Ghost’s crew:
The terrific gong was a frying-pan, hanging on the wall, that rattled and clattered with each leap of the ship [...] Clutching the woodwork of the galley for support,—and I confess the grease with which it was scummed put my teeth on edge,—I reached across the hot cooking range to the offending utensil, unhooked it, and wedged it securely into the coal-box.
Here, the texture of grease on the kitchen wall puts Humphrey’s “teeth on edge,” suggesting that he is having an involuntary response to a new and uncomfortable physical sensation. Humphrey, as an upper-class man, has at this point in the novel never had to work in a kitchen before. He is used to having his food served to him; the textures he is accustomed to aren’t those of a ship’s galley, but rather of the soft fabrics and richly upholstered furniture of an upper-class home in the early twentieth-century United States.
Later in Chapter 2, Humphrey feels the rough hand of Johnson, one of the seal hunters on board the Ghost. Again, London uses imagery to evoke the sense of touch:
He held up his palm for inspection. It was remarkably calloused. I passed my hand over the horny projections, and my teeth went on edge from the horrible rasping sensation produced.
Humphrey’s teeth are set “on edge” again when he clasps Johnson’s hand, reminding the reader of his sensitivity to rough textures stemming from his upper-class upbringing. Rough hands are also traditionally a symbol of hard work, while soft hands (like Humphrey’s) represent a life spent in comfort and leisure.
Throughout the novel, Humphrey mentions the transformation of his hands. In Chapter 6, after working in the ship’s kitchen for a period of time, he describes how painful they are:
My hands bothered me a great deal, unused as they were to work. The nails were discolored and black, while the skin was already grained with dirt even a scrubbing-brush could not remove. Then blisters came, in a painful and never-ending procession.
Here, visual imagery of his hands being permanently “grained with dirt” demonstrate how he has already been forever changed by his short time aboard the Ghost, while the pain of his blisters suggests that he needs to go through a time of painful change before emerging stronger on the other side. By the end of the novel, Humphrey’s hands are as hard and calloused as Johnson’s, representing not only his newfound physical strength and capacity for manual labor, but also an inner strength borne from the ordeals he’s gone through on the Ghost.
At the beginning of Chapter 2, Humphrey uses heightened imagery to describe what he sees during his near-death experience. He nearly drowns after the sinking of the Martinez, but the crew of the Ghost brings him aboard and revives him:
I seemed swinging in a mighty rhythm through orbit vastness. Sparkling points of light spluttered and shot past me. They were stars, I knew, and flaring comets, that peopled my flight among the suns. As I reached the limit of my swing and prepared to rush back on the counter swing, a great gong struck and thundered. For an immeasurable period, lapped in the rippling of placid centuries, I enjoyed and pondered my tremendous flight.
But a change grew over the face of the dream, for a dream I told myself it must be […] I gasped, caught my breath painfully, and opened my eyes.
Humphrey’s near-death experience represents the death of his old, intellectual, sedentary self and the birth of a new version of Humphrey who is self-reliant and in touch with his physical body. He feels himself to be floating amongst the cosmos while he is dead, seeing stars, comets, and suns glittering in the endless black sky.
The alliteration of the "s" sound in the second sentence—“sparkling points of light spluttered and shot past me”—adds to the sparkling, star-spattered imagery of the scene and gives the passage a steady, rhythmic quality, adding to the “mighty rhythm” that Humphrey feels himself to be a part of while dead. This rhythm could be the rhythm of life itself, or the heartbeat of the universe, revealing that Humphrey feels connected to all other living things in this moment, and to his own life force as well. The rhythmic, heartbeat-like quality of the passage could also represent a return to the womb, with Humphrey as a baby listening to his mother's heartbeat. When Humphrey is abruptly brought back by the crew, he catches his breath painfully and opens his eyes, a sudden discomfort reminiscent of a baby experiencing the harsh lights and sounds of the world outside his mother for the first time.
It is also significant that Humphrey feels as though he is floating in space for “an immeasurable period, lapped in the rippling of placid centuries.” This suggests that he has not only been reborn as a new man but he has also returned to the dawn of the universe at the beginning of time. This connects with the novel’s themes of “primordial” and “primal” humanity, as well as evolution and the origins of life. By returning to the dawn of the universe, Humphrey has, in a sense, returned to humanity’s original, primal state. This represents the transformation he makes on board the Ghost toward connecting with his primal self and animal nature.
In Chapter 3, the story draws a parallel between Wolf Larsen and the sea by using vivid imagery to describe his eyes:
[Wolf Larsen's] eyes […] were of that baffling protean gray which is never twice the same; which runs through many shades and colorings like intershot silk in sunshine; which is gray, dark and light, and greenish gray, sometimes of the clear azure of the deep sea. They were eyes that masked the soul with a thousand guises, and that sometimes opened, at rare moments, and allowed it to rush up as though it were about to fare forth nakedly into the world on some wonderful adventure,—eyes that could brood with the hopeless sombreness of leaden skies; that could snap and crackle points of fire like those which sparkle from a whirling sword.
Like the sea, Wolf Larsen’s eyes are described as “protean,” ever-shifting and never the same color twice, changing depending on the way the light hits them. The shifting colors of his eyes—from “gray” to “greenish gray” to “clear azure”—represent both the complexity of his personality and the volatility of his emotions. Like the sea, Wolf Larsen acts for his own reasons; he may fly into a rage at one moment and earnestly ask one’s opinions on philosophy the next. This is similar to the sea, which throughout The Sea-Wolf moves from calm to tumultuous.
The sailors on board the Ghost are also entirely at the mercy of the sea. They rely on clear skies and wind to get them to their destination, and if there is a storm, the sea could easily sweep them overboard and kill them. By highlighting the parallels between Wolf Larsen and the sea, the novel reveals that the sailors are similarly at the mercy of Wolf Larsen. Because of his tremendous physical strength, he has control over them, because they are afraid he might kill them at any moment. As the sea around them might sweep them away to their death with a single cresting wave, so Wolf Larsen might kill them with the strength of his bare hands. Like the sea, Wolf is also capricious; the crew never knows when he might lose his temper and strike them down with a wave of anger.
When Humphrey first boards the Ghost in Chapter 2, London uses imagery—in this case, imagery relating to the sense of touch—to demonstrate the contrast between Humphrey’s previously comfortable lifestyle and the daily physical discomfort experienced by the Ghost’s crew:
The terrific gong was a frying-pan, hanging on the wall, that rattled and clattered with each leap of the ship [...] Clutching the woodwork of the galley for support,—and I confess the grease with which it was scummed put my teeth on edge,—I reached across the hot cooking range to the offending utensil, unhooked it, and wedged it securely into the coal-box.
Here, the texture of grease on the kitchen wall puts Humphrey’s “teeth on edge,” suggesting that he is having an involuntary response to a new and uncomfortable physical sensation. Humphrey, as an upper-class man, has at this point in the novel never had to work in a kitchen before. He is used to having his food served to him; the textures he is accustomed to aren’t those of a ship’s galley, but rather of the soft fabrics and richly upholstered furniture of an upper-class home in the early twentieth-century United States.
Later in Chapter 2, Humphrey feels the rough hand of Johnson, one of the seal hunters on board the Ghost. Again, London uses imagery to evoke the sense of touch:
He held up his palm for inspection. It was remarkably calloused. I passed my hand over the horny projections, and my teeth went on edge from the horrible rasping sensation produced.
Humphrey’s teeth are set “on edge” again when he clasps Johnson’s hand, reminding the reader of his sensitivity to rough textures stemming from his upper-class upbringing. Rough hands are also traditionally a symbol of hard work, while soft hands (like Humphrey’s) represent a life spent in comfort and leisure.
Throughout the novel, Humphrey mentions the transformation of his hands. In Chapter 6, after working in the ship’s kitchen for a period of time, he describes how painful they are:
My hands bothered me a great deal, unused as they were to work. The nails were discolored and black, while the skin was already grained with dirt even a scrubbing-brush could not remove. Then blisters came, in a painful and never-ending procession.
Here, visual imagery of his hands being permanently “grained with dirt” demonstrate how he has already been forever changed by his short time aboard the Ghost, while the pain of his blisters suggests that he needs to go through a time of painful change before emerging stronger on the other side. By the end of the novel, Humphrey’s hands are as hard and calloused as Johnson’s, representing not only his newfound physical strength and capacity for manual labor, but also an inner strength borne from the ordeals he’s gone through on the Ghost.