American Crossroads: London, McCarthy, and Apocalyptic Naturalism

In her short entry “Jack London and Science Fiction” on Sonoma State University’s Jack London Online Collection, Clarice Stasz clearly identifies reasons for igniting new and important conversation centering on London’s more speculative fiction. As Stasz notes, “Thirteen of his 188 stories and four of his twenty-two novels fall readily into the category” of science fiction, and yet there remains little academic investigation of these works. Further, Stasz highlights the influence of earlier writers of the fantastic on London’s own work in the genre, but she ends her discussion commenting that “[y]et to be studied are the possible influences London’s writing had upon later fantasts.” Stasz’s call for academic discussion of London’s fantast works and their influence on current writers of this genre leads one to examine London’s oft-neglected The Scarlet Plague, a prime example of how London’s dismissed fantast writing not only fits within his naturalist oeuvre but also continues to influence contemporary fantast/naturalist authors.

Originally serialized in London Magazine in 1912, The Scarlet Plague was published in book form in 1915 by Macmillan to, as David Raney notes, mixed reviews. The original reviews swing like a pendulum from those that find the novel’s style and purpose fit the tenor of London’s earlier works to those that believe the novel is either superficial or demonstrates London’s lack of interest in the work (Raney 398–99). One of the more influential responses to the novel comes from H. L. Mencken, who comments that London “sold himself into slavery to the publishers,” often putting out works at such a quick pace that “he simply could not make them perfect at such a gait” (26). Mencken calls particular attention to The Scarlet Plague as one of these imperfect works and describes it as “little more than garrulous notes” for a book (26). Because of the contradictory reviews, or Mencken’s strong dismissal of the work, or readers’ fascination with London’s more realist works, any academic discussion of The Scarlet Plague quickly entered a moratorium that has lasted nearly one-hundred years with few moments of interruption.¹

While the potential reasons for this academic silence remain varied and numerous, one of the more likely concerns the issue of genre. There is no question that London’s prominence as a writer is more often earned by his naturalist and adventure writings of the Klondike and the South Seas. And, as such texts and subjects dominate his large canon, the dismissal of his fantastic writings for breaking from his narrative wheelhouse would seem quite logical. However, a dismissal based on such a surface reaction eliminates the potential value found in his works of science fiction as well as their influence on more contemporary authors of naturalist and fantastic American fiction. For example, one point of entry for a reinvestigation of London while also recognizing his literary influence is to turn one’s attention to the reception of and genre discussion surrounding Cormac McCarthy’s The Road (2006).

McCarthy’s novel, to a certain degree, displays a generic break from much of his previous work. Unlike the case with London, though, The Road is a critically successful novel, having been awarded the Pulitzer Prize and serving as the foci for a great deal of academic conversation. One such conversation, regarding The Road and McCarthy’s other works, centers on McCarthy’s implementation of naturalist sensibilities (whether this be philosophical or stylistic).² However, these conversations make almost no connection of McCarthy to London, with the exception of Michael Chabon’s “Dark Adventure: On Cormac McCarthy’s The Road.” In discussing The Road, Chabon comments on the novel’s naturalist elements, but he finds it more suitable to refer to the work as either embodying or suggesting “[a]ll the elements of a science-fiction novel of the post-apocalypse” (103) and argues that it is an “adventure story” following a model traced from Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe to George R. Stewart’s Earth Abides (104–05). What is most interesting, though, is that in referring...