Reason vs Instinct, a “Most Dangerous” Assumption

As members of society, it is safe to say that we believe there is a clear distinction between instinct and reason. One can be impulsive, almost natural, as if it was buried deep inside us centuries ago, while the other requires logic, thought, and analysis. In trend with modern times, we substantially favor reason over instinct. In an age surrounded by numbers and stats, we trust research and probability over our “gut instincts.” After all, the word “instinct” sounds primitive, raw, and uncut. It makes us think of our evolutionary ancestors or beasts of the wilderness. However, in Richard Connell’s, “The Most Dangerous Game,” our beliefs about the distinction between instinct and reason, and even human versus animal, are quickly disproved. We see that the differences between instinct and reason are not as exclusive of each other as we believe them to be.

The Most Dangerous Game was written and published in the mid 1920’s. Known as the “Roaring Twenties,” it was a time of great prosperity and advancement for the world. However, the U.S. was just coming out of a war, WWI, where destruction and violence took place on a scale unbeknownst to the world. Author Richard Connell was a soldier in that war. He fought in France, which was host to some of the most barbaric battles of the conflict. This no doubt inspired him to draw upon the relationship of human versus animal, and instinct versus reason. 

One of the most intriguing aspects of the piece are the settings that Connell chose for the story to take place in. Connell bases the story on an island, where a large jungle is present. The author states that, “an unbroken front of snarled and ragged jungle fringed the shore.” The jungle, as characterized by many, is a place that is wild, ungovernable, and dangerous due to the uncertainty it presents. 

The jungle mirrors the personality of one of the characters in the story, General Zaroff, who is equally as unpredictable and abides by no law but that of his own. Readers soon find out that he hunts captured humans in this jungle, as it is the only thing that he finds pleasure in. He is able to control the hunt and the chase, something he could not do in the real world as a Cossack (a Russian mercenary, until the empire collapsed.) The jungle impedes all influence of civilization, and there, General Zaroff lives as he desires. Ironically enough, General Zaroff is described as a well mannered man, who dresses in his military uniform and lives in a large castle. Yet, despite his notions that he is a man of class, he hunts his own species for enjoyment. This further emphasizes the claim that man and animal are not as different as we assume. What once was thought as a wide difference, really is more of a fine line. 

Furthermore, by selecting an island as the larger setting for the piece, Connell’s characters can emulate the literal conflict of an island’s location. For instance, it is known that islands are secluded, small, and surrounded on all sides by water. A large percent of islands are uncharted, so naturally human influence and interaction are not present. Therefore, just like the jungle, the island is uncontrollable and a realm of the wild. 

This similarly characterizes Rainsford, the hunter that General Zaroff has challenged. Rainsford, who washed up on the island after his boat was sunk, is also a hunter. Before he washed up on the island, Rainsford was making fun of how his partner claimed that the animals had emotion, specifically fear. Upon hearing this, Rainsford stated that animals “have no understanding [of fear.]” However, he soon realizes that his partner is correct, as Rainsford becomes the hunted, not the hunter. As General Zaroff is chasing him across the island, Rainsford feels this very fear that he once denied. This not only embodies the idea that the island characterizes fear, but shows the internal conflict that explains how humans are no different than the animals that they claim they are above. Both experience fear, and the preconceived notion that humans are superior due to their ability to reason is destroyed. 

Overall, Richard Connell’s “Most Dangerous Game” draws on the differences between instinct versus reason to show how humans and animals are not as emotionally and intellectually separated as previously assumed. While society originally associates instinct with the wildness of animals, the same instinct can consume humans as well. Reason does not propel humans to a higher moral code, as evident with General Zaroff and Rainsford’s actions. Just as easily as we distinguish ourselves from the primitive instinct of animals, we too can just as easily become prey.

A Year’s Worth of Penguins

As a little kid, my first dive into the realm of literature can be characterized by one word: penguins. 365 of them, to be exact. 365 Penguins is all but a normal children’s book. Gone are the characters who interact, quarrel, and preserve in order to teach kids a lesson, and in come 365 penguins, each to their own. Some are stuck in trash cans, some are flying, and some dress up as batman (batpenguin, actually). This book can best be interpreted by my father, who would stray away from the words on the page, making up new voices for each penguin. It brought a sense of excitement beyond just what the author had written. It made me burst into my parent’s bedroom with the oversized 16×12 inch book in hand, and plead with my Dad to read it just one more time before bed. This was the start to my literary journey. 

As time went on, my excitement towards literature dissipated. Many people like to blame the education system, teachers, or parents for their loss of passion towards reading. They claim that mandated reading takes the joy out of scouring through a book, and texts chosen by educators often make students less inclined to truly ‘lose themselves’ in a story. 

While I see how this can be true, I don’t think that the blame falls entirely on a structured system of reading for a grade or for completion. In fact, I think the blame falls on ourselves. Simply put, we don’t make, or have, time to lose ourselves in a book anymore. (If you do make time, I commend you for it, because it is something I can’t do.) Life has so many variables: events, activities, cell phones, and a range of priorities that simply don’t allow many people the time to sit down and read daily. We are rushed. We focus more on texting our friends and not diving into a story. Consequently, we forget the benefits and importance of literature. Things like these contribute to my generation’s general distaste for novels and types of literature. 

Most of my daily literature intake consists of the New York Times Morning Briefing. It is informative, but most importantly, short. It takes two minutes to read while I make my morning coffee. It also is practical and of interest to me, unlike long-winding novels and stories. Could I find time to branch out into books or longer texts? Sure, I know I could. Is it high enough up on my list of priorities, as a senior with AP classes, college applications, ACT tutoring, and a varsity sport? No, and I have no one to blame but myself for that. It’s a reality that I’ve become comfortable with, and it’s been that way since I entered high school. It’s a reality that I’m ashamed of. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever find my love for reading again, or have the same excitement I once had as a seven year old reading a silly book about penguins. It’s sad to think about. Quite frankly, I can’t see myself moving on to the next stages of my life prioritizing reading literature if it isn’t required of me. Life only gets more complicated, right? Maybe that makes me ignorant. Maybe it makes me naive. Maybe it makes me a liar. Only time will tell where I go on my literary journey.