Сердца трех

УДК 
372.8
ББК 
81.2 Англ
 
Л 76

ISBN 978-5-9925-0719-5

Лондон Дж.
Л 76 Сердца трех: Книга для чтения на английском 
языке. — СПб.: КАРО, 2011. — 448 с. — (Серия 
“Classical Literature”)

ISBN 978-5-9925-0719-5

«Сердца трех» — последний роман знаменитого американского писателя Джека Лондона (1876–1916), вышедший в свет уже после смерти автора.
В предлагаемой вниманию читателей книге представлен неадаптированный текст романа, снабженный комментариями и словарем.

УДК 372.8
ББК 81.2 Англ

© КАРО, 2011

ОБ АВТОРЕ

Знаменитый американский писатель Джек Лондон родился 12 января 1876 года в Сан-Франциско. Родители разошлись до рождения мальчика. Позже его мать Флора 
Чейни вышла замуж повторно за овдовевшего фермера 
Джона Лондона. Денег в семье было мало, и Джек, не доучившись в школе, начал с ранних лет зарабатывать себе 
на жизнь. Чем только он ни занимался — продавал газеты, 
трудился на джутовой и консервной фабриках, зарабатывал 
в качестве «устричного пирата» — нелегального сборщика 
устриц в бухте Сан-Франциско, матроса, позже охотился 
на морских котиков в Тихом океане у берегов Японии, побывал на Аляске в качестве золотоискателя, был гладильщиком и кочегаром. Весь этот огромный жизненный опыт 
позднее нашел отражение в его литературном творчестве.
Джек Лондон — человек, сделавший себя сам. Не получив систематического образования, он с детства очень 
много читал — как художественную литературу, так и философские и социологические труды. Самостоятельно подготовился и поступил в Калифорнийский университет, 
но из-за отсутствия средств вынужден был оставить учебу после третьего семестра. Умелец, моряк, впоследствии 
фермер, познавший тяжесть физического труда, Лондон 
всю жизнь жадно поглощал знания и уже в ранние годы 
загорелся мечтой стать писателем, благо ему было что сказать читателям.
Он был очень плодовит, работал по 15–17 часов в день. 
Из-под его пера вышло более 200 рассказов, первый из 
них, «За тех, кто в пути», увидел свет в 1899 году, после 

ОБ АВТОРЕ

возвращения Лондона с Клондайка. Сборники рассказов 
«Сын волка», «Бог его отцов», «Дети мороза» и др., героями 
которых стали волевые, мужественные люди, осуждающие 
трусов и предателей, принесли ему широчайшую известность.
Дальнейшая литературная карьера Джека Лондона сложилась удачно, он получал безумные по тем временам гонорары — до пятидесяти тысяч долларов за книгу. Однако 
это не помешало ему продолжать писать в «социалистическом» духе, обличая социальную несправедливость.
Джек Лондон рано ушел из жизни — ему было всего сорок лет, отравившись прописанным ему морфием (он страдал тяжелым почечным заболеванием). Некоторые исследователи полагают, что это было самоубийство, что, впрочем, 
ничем не подтверждено, так как он не оставил предсмертной записки. Но, безусловно, мысли о самоубийстве у него 
были — достаточно вспомнить Мартина Идена, альтер эго 
писателя. Его герой сознательно покончил с собой, разочаровавшись в ценностях своего собственного круга и буржуазного мира, в котором, даже разбогатев и прославившись, 
он не смог жить.

***
Предлагаемый вниманию читателей роман «Сердца 
трех» — последнее произведение писателя, его пятидесятая 
книга. Роман был опубликован 1919–1920 годах в газете 
«Нью-Йорк джорнэл». Молодой потомок пирата Моргана 
отправляется на поиски сокровищ своего предка. В пути 
он знакомится со своим дальним родственником Генри 
Морганом. Героев ждут опасные приключения, неведомые 
земли и любовь…

FOREWORD

I HOPE the reader will forgive me for beginning this 
foreword with a brag. In truth, this yarn is a celebration. By 
its completion I celebrate my fortieth birthday, my fi ft ieth 
book, my sixteenth year in the writing game, and a new 
 departure. “Hearts of Th ree” is a new departure. I have 
certainly never done anything like it before; I am pretty 
certain never to do anything like it again. And I haven’t the 
least bit of reticence in proclaiming my pride in having done 
it. And now, for the reader who likes action, I advise him 
to skip the rest of this brag and foreword, and plunge into 
the narrative1, and tell me if it just doesn’t read along2.
For the more curious let me explain a bit further. With 
the rise of moving pictures into the overwhelmingly most 
popular form of amusement in the entire world, the stock 
of plots and stories in the world’s fi ction fund began rapidly 
to be exhausted. In a year a single producing company, with 
a score of directors, is capable of fi lming the entire literary 
output of the entire lives of Shakespeare, Balzac, Dickens, 
Scott, Zola, Tolstoy, and of dozens of less voluminous 
writers. And since there are hundreds of moving pictures 
producing companies, it can be readily grasped how quickly 
they found themselves face to face with a shortage of the 
raw material of which moving pictures are fashioned.
Th e fi lm rights in all novels, short stories, and plays 
that were still covered by copyright, were bought or 
contracted for, while all similar raw material on which 

1 plunge into the narrative — (устар.) погрузиться в повествование
2 if it just doesn’t read along — (разг.) читабельно это или 
нет

FOREWORD

copyright had expired was being screened as swift ly as 
sailors on a placer beach would pick up nuggets. Th ousands 
of scena rio writers — literally tens of thousands, for no man, 
nor woman, nor child was too mean not to write scenarios — tens of thousands of scenario writers pirated 
through all literature (copyright or otherwise), and snatched 
the maga zines hot from the press to steal any new scene or 
plot or story hit upon by their writing brethren1.
In passing, it is only fair to point out that, though only 
the other day, it was in the days ere scenario writers became 
respectable, in the days when they worked overtime for 
rough-neck directors for fifteen and twenty a week or 
freelanced their wares for from ten to twenty dollars per 
scenario and half the time were beaten out of the due 
payment, or had their stolen goods stolen from them by 
their equally graceless and shameless fellows who slaved by 
the week2. But to-day, which is only a day since the other 
day, I know scenario writers who keep their three machines, 
their two chauffeurs, send their children to the most 
exclusive prep schools, and maintain an unwavering 
solvency.
It was largely because of the shortage in raw material 
that scenario writers appreciated in value and esteem. Th ey 
found themselves in demand, treated with respect, better 
remunerated, and, in return, expected to deliver a higher 
grade of commodity. One phase of this new quest for 
 material was the attempt to enlist known authors in the 
work. But because a man had written a score of novels was 

1 writing brethren — (ирон.) пишущая братия; собратья 
по перу
2 slaved by the week — (ирон.) неделями трудились, как 
рабы на галере

FOREWORD

no guarantee that he could write a good scenario. Quite to 
the contrary, it was quickly discovered that the surest 
guarantee of failure was a previous record of success in 
novelwriting.
But the moving pictures producers were not to be 
denied. Division of labor was the thing. Allying themselves 
with powerful newspaper organisations, or, in the case of 
“Hearts of Th ree,” the very reverse, they had highly-skilled 
writers of scenario (who couldn’t write novels to save themselves1) make scenarios, which, in turn, were translated 
into novels by novel-writers (who couldn’t, to save themselves, write scenarios).
Comes now Mr. Charles Goddard to one, Jack London, 
saying: “Th e time, the place, and the men are met; the 
moving pictures producers, the newspapers, and the capital, 
are ready: let us get together.” And we got. Result: “Hearts 
of Three.” When I state that Mr. Goddard has been 
responsible for “Th e Perils of Pauline,” “Th e Exploits of 
Elaine,” “Th e Goddess,” the “Get Rich Quick Wallingford” 
series, etc., no question of his skilled fi tness can be raised. 
Also, the name of the present heroine, Leoncia, is of his own 
devising.
On the ranch, in the Valley of the Moon, he wrote his 
fi rst several episodes. But he wrote faster than I, and was 
done with his fi ft een episodes weeks ahead of me. Do not 
be misled by the word “episode.” Th e fi rst episode covers 
three thousand feet of film. The succeeding fourteen 
episodes cover each two thousand feet of fi lm. And each 
episode contains about ninety scenes, which makes a total 

1 to save themselves — (разг.) даже для спасения собственной жизни

FOREWORD

of some thirteen hundred scenes. Nevertheless, we worked 
simultaneously at our respective tasks. I could not build for 
what was going to happen next or a dozen chapters away, 
because I did not know. Neither did Mr. Goddard know. 
Th e inevitable result was that “Hearts of Th ree” may not be 
very vertebrate, although it is certainly consecutive1.
Imagine my surprise, down here in Hawaii and toiling at the novelization of the tenth episode, to receive by 
mail from Mr. Goddard in New York the scenario of the 
fourteenth episode, and glancing therein, to fi nd my hero 
married to the wrong woman! and with only one more 
episode in which to get rid of the wrong woman and duly tie 
my hero up with the right and only woman. For all of wilich 
please see last chapter of fi ft eenth episode. Trust Mr. Goddard to show me how.
For Mr. Goddard is the master of action and lord of 
speed. Action doesn’t bother him at all. “Register,” he calmly 
says in a fi lm direction to the moving picture actor. Evidently 
the actor registers, for Mr. Goddard goes right on with more 
action. “Register grief,” he commands, or “sorrow,” or “anger,” 
or “melting sympathy,” or “homicidal intent,” or “suicidal 
tendency.” Th at’s all. It has to be all, or how else would he 
ever accomplish the whole thirteen hundred scenes?
But imagine the poor devil of a me, who can’t utter the 
talismanic “register” but who must describe, and at some 
length inevitably, these moods and modes so airily created 
in passing2 by Mr. Goddard! Why, Dickens thought nothing 

1 may not be very vertebrate, although it is certainly consecutive — (разг.) (повествование) не отличается особой последовательностью, хотя, безусловно, не лишено логики
2 created in passing — (разг.) созданы между делом, одним 
росчерком пера

FOREWORD

9

of consuming a thousand words or so in describing and 
subtly characterizing the particular grief of a particular 
person. But Mr. Goddard says, “Register,” and the slaves of 
the camera obey.
And action! I have written some novels of adventure 
in my time, but never, in all of the many of them, have I 
perpetrated a totality of action equal to what is contained 
in “Hearts of Th ree.”
But I know, now, why moving pictures are popular. I 
know, now, why Messrs. “Barnes of New York” and “Potter 
of Texas” sold by the millions of copies. I know, now, why 
one stump speech of high-falutin1’ is a more effi  cient votegetter than a fi nest and highest act or thought of statesmanship. It has been an interesting experience, this novelization by me of Mr. Goddard’s scenario; and it has been 
instructive. It has given me high lights, foundation lines, 
cross-bearings, and illumination on my anciently founded 
sociological generalizations. I have come, by this adventure 
in writing, to understand the mass mind of the people more 
thoroughly than I thought I had understood it before, and 
to realize, more fully than ever, the graphic entertainment 
delivered by the demagogue who wins the vote of the 
mass out of his mastery of its mind. I should be surprised 
if this book does not have a large sale. (“Register surprise,” 
Mr. Goddard would say; or “Register large sale”.)
If this adventure of “Hearts of Th ree” be collaboration, 
I am transported by it. But alack! I fear me Mr. Goddard 
must then be the one collaborator in a million. We have 
never had a word, an argument, nor a discussion. But then, 

1 one stump speech of high-falutin — (разг.) какая-нибудь 
напыщенная агитационная речь

FOREWORD

I must be a jewel of a collaborator myself. Have I not, without 
whisper or whimper of complaint, let him “register” through 
fi ft een episodes of scenario, through thirteen hundred 
scenes and thirty-one thousand feet of fi lm, through one 
hundred and eleven thousand words of novelization? Just 
the same, having completed the task, I wish I’d never written 
it for the reason that I’d like to read it myself to see if it reads 
along. I am curious to know. I am curious to know.

JACK LONDON.
Waikiki, Hawaii,
March 23, 1916.

Back to Back Against 
the Mainmast

Do ye seek for fun and fortune?
Listen, rovers, now to me!
Look ye for them on the ocean:
Ye shall fi nd them on the sea.
CHORUS:
Roaring wind and deep blue water!
We’re the jolly devils who,
Back to back against the mainmast,
Held at bay1 the entire crew.
Bring the dagger, bring the pistols!
We will have our own to-day!
Let the cannon smash the bulwarks!
Let the cutlass clear the way!

1 Held at bay — (разг.) Держали в страхе