This, in my opinion, is among the greatest sociological books existing. Unlike any other book you have read: there is no jealousy in this book, no bickering, no envy, no greed, no pettiness -- there is only life and the struggle for life. That life is good. That living is good. That making it through the day, or the hour, is good.
The book pounds the reader through the confines of the frozen north, where two men attempt to transport a decedent in his coffin. On the way, hungry wolves pursue the trail -- we can't blame them -- "their muscles are strings" -- the wolves are literally starving to death. The men understand this, but also that they have a job to do.
Later, one of these wolves delivers a few pups, and the pups struggle to live within their den while the mother attempts to find food that is virtually nonexistent. One of these wolves is White Fang -- in his struggle for survival, he must rise above his fears and his teachings, and in so doing, discovers that living is essential, that living is good.
Through trials and tribulations, White Fang understands that love is the highest pinnacle of existence, and that order is the highest essential of Life.
Crammed with so many wonderful scenes, so many poigant and solemn images of life, the struggle for life, the very act of living -- impossible to put down, impossible to ignore.
If you have doubts about your world, your doubts will be shaken if you read this book.