Adventures of Huckleberry Finn pdf or as it is known in more recent editions, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, is a novel by American author Mark Twain, which was first published in the United Kingdom in December 1884 and in the United States in February 1885. Commonly named among the Great American Novels, the work is among the first in major American literature to be written throughout in vernacular English, characterized by local color regionalism. It is told in the first person by Huckleberry “Huck” Finn, the narrator of two other Twain novels (Tom Sawyer Abroad and Tom Sawyer, Detective) and a friend of Tom Sawyer. It is a direct sequel to The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. The book is noted for “changing the course of children’s literature” in the United States for the “deeply felt portrayal of boyhood”. It is also known for its colorful description of people and places along the Mississippi River. Set in a Southern antebellum society that had ceased to exist over 20 years before the work was published, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is an often scathing satire on entrenched attitudes, particularly racism. In this article you will be able to download The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by mark twain as well do the following:
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Summary of the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn pdf by Mark Twain
Of all the contenders for the title of The Great American Novel, none has a better claim than The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Intended at first as a simple story of a boy’s adventures in the Mississippi Valley—a sequel to Tom Sawyer—the book grew and matured under Twain’s hand into a work of immeasurable richness and complexity. More than a century after its publication, the critical debate over the symbolic significance of Huck’s and Jim’s voyage is still fresh, and it remains a major work that can be enjoyed at many levels: as an incomparable adventure story and as a classic of American humor.
in order to escape his abusive father, Huckleberry Finn fakes his own death. He meets up with the runaway slave Jim, and the two begin a new, carefree life on a raft traversing the Mississippi River. Despite their travels bringing them more trouble than expected and the fear of being returned to their old lives, Huck Finn and Jim form a bond that helps protect them from the judgments of a hypocritical society that claims to value civilization even as it benefits from the horror of slavery. Many readers see Adventures of Huckleberry Finn as a children’s book because Huck is a boy. However, the book’s moral themes and metaphors are relevant for almost any age and situation. Huck rejects his Aunt Sally’s attempts to protect him in favor of entering the unknown wild. He simply values his own personal freedom and sense above all else—a quintessential American trait.
About the Author of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn pdf- Mark Twain
Mark Twain is the pseudonym of Samuel Langhorne Clemens (1835 – 1910). He was born and brought up in the American state of Missouri and, because of his father’s death, he left school to earn his living when he was only twelve. He was a great adventurer and travelled round America as a printer; prospected for gold and set off for South America to earn his fortune. He returned to become a steam-boat pilot on the Mississippi River, close to where he had grown up. The Civil War put an end to steam-boating and Clemens briefly joined the Confederate army – although the rest of his family were Unionists! He had already tried his hand at newspaper reporting and now became a successful journalist. He started to use the alias Mark Twain during the Civil War and it was under this pen name that he became a famous travel writer. He took the name from his steam-boat days – it was the river pilots’ cry to let their men know that the water was two fathoms deep.
Mark Twain was always nostalgic about his childhood and in 1876 The Adventures of Tom Sawyer was published, based on his own experiences. The book was soon recognised as a work of genius and eight years later the sequel, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, was published. The great writer Ernest Hemingway claimed that ‘All modern literature stems from this one book.’ Mark Twain was soon famous all over the world. He made a fortune from writing and lost it on a typesetter he invented. He then made another fortune and lost it on a bad investment. He was an impulsive, hot-tempered man but was also quite sentimental and superstitious. He was born when Halley’s Comet was passing the Earth and always believed he would die when it returned – this is exactly what happened.
Information About the book (Amazon)
- Publisher : Chartwell Books (December 7, 2021)
- Language : English
- Hardcover : 328 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0785839909
- ISBN-13 : 978-0785839903
- Reading age : 8 – 12 years
- Grade level : 3 – 7
- Item Weight : 1.01 pounds
- Dimensions : 6.1 x 1.05 x 7.85 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #61,377 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #190 in Censorship & Politics
- #1,648 in War & Military Action Fiction (Books)
- Customer Reviews: 4.6 out of 5 stars 5,737 ratings
Excerpt from the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
© Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
DISCOVER MOSES AND THE BULRUSHERS
You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain’t no matter. That book was made by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly. There was things which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth. That is nothing. I never seen anybody but lied one time or another, without it was Aunt Polly, or the widow, or maybe Mary. Aunt Polly–Tom’s Aunt Polly, she is–and Mary, and the Widow Douglas is all told about in that book, which is mostly a true book, with some stretchers, as I said before.
Now the way that the book winds up is this: Tom and me found the money that the robbers hid in the cave, and it made us rich. We got six thousand dollars apiece–all gold. It was an awful sight of money when it was piled up. Well, Judge Thatcher he took it and put it out at interest, and it fetched us a dollar a day apiece all the year round–more than a body could tell what to do with. The Widow Douglas she took me for her son, and allowed she would sivilize me; but it was rough living in the house all the time, considering how dismal regular and decent the widow was in all her ways; and so when I couldn’t stand it no longer I lit out. I got into my old rags and my sugar-hogshead again, and was free and satisfied. But Tom Sawyer he hunted me up and said he was going to start a band of robbers, and I might join if I would go back to the widow and be respectable. So I went back.
The widow she cried over me, and called me a poor lost lamb, and she called me a lot of other names, too, but she never meant no harm by it. She put me in them new clothes again, and I couldn’t do nothing but sweat and sweat, and feel all cramped up. Well, then, the old thing commenced again. The widow rung a bell for supper, and you had to come to time. When you got to the table you couldn’t go right to eating, but you had to wait for the widow to tuck down her head and grumble a little over the victuals, though there warn’t really anything the matter with them–that is, nothing only everything was cooked by itself. In a barrel of odds and ends it is different; things get mixed up, and the juice kind of swaps around, and the things go better.
After supper she got out her book and learned me about Moses and the Bulrushers, and I was in a sweat to find out all about him; but by and by she let it out that Moses had been dead a considerable long time; so then I didn’t care no more about him, because I don’t take no stock in dead people.
Pretty soon I wanted to smoke, and asked the widow to let me. But she wouldn’t. She said it was a mean practice and wasn’t clean, and I must try to not do it any more. That is just the way with some people. They get down on a thing when they don’t know nothing about it. Here she was a-bothering about Moses, which was no kin to her, and no use to anybody, being gone, you see, yet finding a power of fault with me for doing a thing that had some good in it. And she took snuff, too; of course that was all right, because she done it herself.
Her sister, Miss Watson, a tolerable slim old maid, with goggles on, had just come to live with her, and took a set at me now with a spelling-book. She worked me middling hard for about an hour, and then the widow made her ease up. I couldn’t stood it much longer. Then for an hour it was deadly dull, and I was fidgety. Miss Watson would say, “Don’t put your feet up there, Huckleberry”; and “Don’t scrunch up like that, Huckleberry–set up straight”; and pretty soon she would say, “Don’t gap and stretch like that, Huckleberry–why don’t you try to behave?” Then she told me all about the bad place, and I said I wished I was there. She got mad then, but I didn’t mean no harm. All I wanted was to go somewheres; all I wanted was a change, I warn’t particular. She said it was wicked to say what I said; said she wouldn’t say it for the whole world; she was going to live so as to go to the good place. Well, I couldn’t see no advantage in going where she was going, so I made up my mind I wouldn’t try for it. But I never said so, because it would only make trouble, and wouldn’t do no good.
Now she had got a start, and she went on and told me all about the good place. She said all a body would have to do there was to go around all day long with a harp and sing, forever and ever. So I didn’t think much of it. But I never said so. I asked her if she reckoned Tom Sawyer would go there, and she said not by a considerable sight. I was glad about that, because I wanted him and me to be together. Miss Watson she kept pecking at me, and it got tiresome and lonesome. By and by they fetched the niggers in and had prayers, and then everybody was off to bed. I went up to my room with a piece of candle, and put it on the table. Then I set down in a chair by the window and tried to think of something cheerful, but it warn’t no use. I felt so lone-some I most wished I was dead. The stars were shining, and the leaves rustled in the woods ever so mournful; and I heard an owl, away off, who-whooing about somebody that was dead, and a whippowill and a dog crying about somebody that was going to die; and the wind was trying to whisper something to me, and I couldn’t make out what it was, and so it made the cold shivers run over me.
Then away out in the woods I heard that kind of a sound that a ghost makes when it wants to tell about something that’s on its mind and can’t make itself understood, and so can’t rest easy in its grave, and has to go about that way every night grieving. I got so downhearted and scared I did wish I had some company. Pretty soon a spider went crawling up my shoulder, and I flipped it off and it lit in the candle; and before I could budge it was all shriveled up. I didn’t need anybody to tell me that that was an awful bad sign and would fetch me some bad luck, so I was scared and most shook the clothes off of me. I got up and turned around in my tracks three times and crossed my breast every time; and then I tied up a little lock of my hair with a thread to keep witches away. But I hadn’t no confidence. You do that when you’ve lost a horseshoe that you’ve found, instead of nailing it up over the door, but I hadn’t ever heard anybody say it was any way to keep off bad luck when you’d killed a spider.
I set down again, a-shaking all over, and got out my pipe for a smoke; for the house was all as still as death now, and so the widow wouldn’t know. Well, after a long time I heard the clock away off in the town go boom–boom–boom–twelve licks; and all still again–stiller than ever. Pretty soon I heard a twig snap down in the dark amongst the trees–something was a-stirring. I set still and listened. Directly I could just barely hear a “me-yow! me-yow!” down there. That was good! Says I, “me-yow! me-yow!” as soft as I could, and then I put out the light and scrambled out of the window on to the shed. Then I slipped down to the ground and crawled in among the trees, and, sure enough, there was Tom Sawyer waiting for me.
OUR GANG’S DARK OATH
We went tiptoeing along a path amongst the trees back toward the end of the widow’s garden, stooping down so as the branches wouldn’t scrape our heads. When we was passing by the kitchen I fell over a root and made a noise. We scrouched down and laid still. Miss Watson’s big nigger, named Jim, was setting in the kitchen door; we could see him pretty clear, because there was a light behind him. He got up and stretched his neck out about a minute, listening. Then he says: “Who dah?”
He listened some more; then he came tiptoeing down and stood right between us; we could ‘a’ touched him, nearly. Well, likely it was minutes and minutes that there warn’t a sound, and we all there so close together. There was a place on my ankle that got to itching, but I dasn’t scratch it; and then my ear begun to itch; and next my back, right between my shoulders. Seemed like I’d die if I couldn’t scratch. Well, I’ve noticed that thing plenty times since. If you are with the quality, or at a funeral, or trying to go to sleep when you ain’t sleepy–if you are anywheres where it won’t do for you to scratch, why you will itch all over in upward of a thousand places. Pretty soon Jim says: “Say, who is you? Whar is you? Dog my cats ef I didn’ hear sumf’n. Well, I know what I’s gwyne to do: I’s gwyne to set down here and listen tell I hears it ag’in.”
So he set down on the ground betwixt me and Tom. He leaned his back up against a tree, and stretched his legs out till one of them most touched one of mine. My nose begun to itch. It itched till the tears come into my eyes. But I dasn’t scratch. Then it begun to itch on the inside. Next I got to itching underneath. I didn’t know how I was going to set still. This miserableness went on as much as six or seven minutes; but it seemed a sight longer than that. I was itching in eleven different places now. I reckoned I couldn’t stand it more’n a minute longer, but I set my teeth hard and got ready to try. Just then Jim begun to breathe heavy; next he begun to snore–and then I was pretty soon comfortable again.
Tom he made a sign to me–kind of a little noise with his mouth–and we went creeping away on our hands and knees. When we was ten foot off Tom whispered to me, and wanted to tie Jim to the tree for fun. But I said no; he might wake and make a disturbance, and then they’d find out I warn’t in. Then Tom said he hadn’t got candles enough, and he would slip in the kitchen and get some more. I didn’t want him to try. I said Jim might wake up and come. But Tom wanted to resk it; so we slid in there and got three candles, and Tom laid five cents on the table for pay. Then we got out, and I was in a sweat to get away; but nothing would do Tom but he must crawl to where Jim was, on his hands and knees, and play something on him. I waited, and it seemed a good while, everything was so still and lonesome.
As soon as Tom was back we cut along the path, around the garden fence, and by and by fetched up on the steep top of the hill the other side of the house. Tom said he slipped Jim’s hat off of his head and hung it on a limb right over him, and Jim stirred a little, but he didn’t wake. Afterward Jim said the witches bewitched him and put him in a trance, and rode him all over the state, and then set him under the trees again, and hung his hat on a limb to show who done it. And next time Jim told it he said they rode him down to New Orleans; and, after that, every time he told it he spread it more and more, till by and by he said they rode him all over the world, and tired him most to death, and his back was all over saddle-boils. Jim was monstrous proud about it, and he got so he wouldn’t hardly notice the other niggers. Niggers would come miles to hear Jim tell about it, and he was more looked up to than any nigger in that country. Strange niggers would stand with their mouths open and look him all over, same as if he was a wonder. Niggers is always talking about witches in the dark by the kitchen fire; but whenever one was talking and letting on to know all about such things, Jim would happen in and say, “Hm! What you know ’bout witches?” and that nigger was corked up and had to take a back seat. Jim always kept that five-center piece round his neck with a string, and said it was a charm the devil give to him with his own hands, and told him he could cure anybody with it and fetch witches whenever he wanted to just by saying something to it; but he never told what it was he said to it. Niggers would come from all around there and give Jim anything they had, just for a sight of that five-center piece; but they wouldn’t touch it, because the devil had had his hands on it. Jim was most ruined for a servant, because he got stuck up on account of having seen the devil and been rode by witches.
Well, when Tom and me got to the edge of the hilltop we looked away down into the village and could see three or four lights twinkling, where there was sick folks, maybe; and the stars over us was sparkling ever so fine; and down by the village was the river, a whole mile broad, and awful still and grand. We went down the hill and found Joe Harper and Ben Rogers, and two or three more of the boys, hid in the old tanyard. So we unhitched a skiff and pulled down the river two mile and a half, to the big scar on the hillside, and went ashore.
Major characters in the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
Below are some of the Major Characters in the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain you should know
Huckleberry “Huck” Finn
The protagonist and narrator of the novel. Huck is the thirteen-year-old son of the local drunk of St. Petersburg, Missouri, a town on the Mississippi River. Frequently forced to survive on his own wits and always a bit of an outcast, Huck is thoughtful, intelligent (though formally uneducated), and willing to come to his own conclusions about important matters, even if these conclusions contradict society’s norms. Nevertheless, Huck is still a boy, and is influenced by others, particularly by his imaginative friend, Tom.
Huck’s friend, and the protagonist of Tom Sawyer, the novel to which Huckleberry Finn is ostensibly the sequel. In Huckleberry Finn, Tom serves as a foil to Huck: imaginative, dominating, and given to wild plans taken from the plots of adventure novels, Tom is everything that Huck is not. Tom’s stubborn reliance on the “authorities” of romance novels leads him to acts of incredible stupidity and startling cruelty. His rigid adherence to society’s conventions aligns Tom with the “sivilizing” forces that Huck learns to see through and gradually abandons.
One of Miss Watson’s household slaves. Jim is superstitious and occasionally sentimental, but he is also intelligent, practical, and ultimately more of an adult than anyone else in the novel. Jim’s frequent acts of selflessness, his longing for his family, and his friendship with both Huck and Tom demonstrate to Huck that humanity has nothing to do with race. Because Jim is a black man and a runaway slave, he is at the mercy of almost all the other characters in the novel and is often forced into ridiculous and degrading situations.
Huck’s father, the town drunk and ne’er-do-well. Pap is a wreck when he appears at the beginning of the novel, with disgusting, ghostlike white skin and tattered clothes. The illiterate Pap disapproves of Huck’s education and beats him frequently. Pap represents both the general debasement of white society and the failure of family structures in the novel.
The duke and the dauphin
A pair of con men whom Huck and Jim rescue as they are being run out of a river town. The older man, who appears to be about seventy, claims to be the “dauphin,” the son of King Louis XVI and heir to the French throne. The younger man, who is about thirty, claims to be the usurped Duke of Bridgewater. Although Huck quickly realizes the men are frauds, he and Jim remain at their mercy, as Huck is only a child and Jim is a runaway slave. The duke and the dauphin carry out a number of increasingly disturbing swindles as they travel down the river on the raft.
Widow Douglas and Miss Watson
Two wealthy sisters who live together in a large house in St. Petersburg and who adopt Huck. The gaunt and severe Miss Watson is the most prominent representative of the hypocritical religious and ethical values Twain criticizes in the novel. The Widow Douglas is somewhat gentler in her beliefs and has more patience with the mischievous Huck. When Huck acts in a manner contrary to societal expectations, it is the Widow Douglas whom he fears disappointing.
The local judge who shares responsibility for Huck with the Widow Douglas and is in charge of safeguarding the money that Huck and Tom found at the end of Tom Sawyer. When Huck discovers that Pap has returned to town, he wisely signs his fortune over to the Judge, who doesn’t really accept the money, but tries to comfort Huck. Judge Thatcher has a daughter, Becky, who was Tom’s girlfriend in Tom Sawyer and whom Huck calls “Bessie” in this novel.
A family that takes Huck in after a steamboat hits his raft, separating him from Jim. The kindhearted Grangerfords, who offer Huck a place to stay in their tacky country home, are locked in a long-standing feud with another local family, the Shepherdsons. Twain uses the two families to engage in some rollicking humor and to mock a overly romanticizes ideas about family honor. Ultimately, the families’ sensationalized feud gets many of them killed.
Where to buy the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn online
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Customer reviews on Amazon for the book
5.0 out of 5 stars Today that N-word is only used as a disgusting insult. Hence schools are banning the reading of …
Reviewed in the United States on April 7, 2018
There is nothing I can say about Huck that has not been said a thousand time already. Mark Twain is, or was, Mark Twain. And the book reflects the era in which it was written.
Jim is the story’s most noble of character. Jim is a runaway slave. Jim is black. And, almost always, Jim is introduced by the N-word. A word that is so pejorative today, was surely not intended to be offensive when it was used to introduce kind, loyal, powerful and patient Jim. Today that N-word is only used as a disgusting insult. Hence schools are banning the reading of the book. In my view Mark Twain would understand and would support deleting the word completely or, perhaps, substituting something less hurtful. But, without the author’s blessing, that would be considered destructive of literary authenticity.I will leave it to society to determine what should be done. I am glad I could just re-read the book after many years solely for my enjoyment, just as the author intended.
5.0 out of 5 stars Mark Twain has been my favorite author Forever !…..
Reviewed in the United States on April 17, 2018
I first read about Tom Sawyer, the Huck Finn when I was seven or eight years old, and have reread both several times. That’s what makes a book a Classic, is that you can read them time after time, over a lifetime, and they will still set your imagination on fire, and, you will always find some little conceit, some word play, or opinion, that Twain has added to the story line. As with the differing speech patterns, dialects, etc, noted in the preface, Mr Clements writes with a precision, and a smooth flow, that one becomes so involved in the story, ends up reading Jim’s, or Aunt Sally’s neighbor’s accents as if that’s your very own lingo.
As I said, I read about Huck and Tom, long before I ever heard of the Hardy Boys, the Bobbsey Twins, or any of the Fifties numerous Child’s adventures. My first and second grade teachers have me good grades, besides notes on every report card, saying things like. ” Herman doesn’t like to participate in class, and seems to daydream a lot. Well, Duh, I was reading at a sixth-grade level before I ever heard of stupid ” Dick and Jane”, and their babyish buddy’s.
5.0 out of 5 stars anti-racism as comedy
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on September 13, 2019
This is a really entertaining read that gets better and better the further you get into it, and becomes hilarious once Tom Sawyer arrives on the scene towards the end.
My understanding is that this book was removed from being taught in school on the grounds of racism, which I find utterly bizarre. It is true that throughout the book slaves are referred to using the n***** word, which is obvious distasteful. But the book is a reflection of its time and this word is primarily used by white people to illustrate their bigotry and ignorance. Throughout the book slaves are portrayed as altruistic, considerate, warm-hearted and family orientated, whilst all the fraudsters and violent drunks, including Huck’s father, are white.
That aside, this is a very funny book in which Huck gets into all kinds of scrapes along with Jim, a slave he is trying to free.
Personally I found Tom Sawyer the most engaging character despite his late appearance. Indeed, Tom and Huck as a double act come across as a childish precursor for the likes of Morecambe and Wise with Tom and as the daft Eric and Huck as the straighter Ernie. A wonderfully entertaining and occasionally thought provoking read.
4.0 out of 5 stars I hadn’t realised how good a story-teller Mark Twain was
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on October 17, 2014
Ashamed to say that I had reached my 60s before actually reading the whole of Huckleberry Finn (after having read Tom Sawyer, also for the first time, and you do need to have read that first). I hadn’t realised how good a story-teller Mark Twain was, and if you haven’t already done so I would thoroughly recommend them to you. OK, the world is rightly more politically correct now and you have to remember the culture that Twain was writing into, but even this is something of an eye-opener on the white-black divide in Mississippi at the time, but with a good deal of humour mixed in. The story requires you to suspend reality checks to some extent; for example, Huck is totally uneducated and in his early teens, but seems to have an excellent grasp of the geography along the river; perhaps he had just hitched rides on the riverboats and kept his ears open. Unlike ‘Tom Sawyer’, this book is written in first-person and with phonetic spelling; you just have to read with a Deep South accent! The loss of one star is for the Kindle version, which had an irritatingly large number of words joined together – e.g. ‘I tellyouifI catchyoumeddlingwithhimagain’ – which you become surprisingly quick at decoding but was a bit wearing. If you’ve not read it – now’s your chance.
5.0 out of 5 stars A beautifully bound keepsake.
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on May 25, 2021
This a a birthday gift for my 45 year old Son. It was his favourite book when he was a child. It has a beautiful cover I was very impressed. Good value. Quick delivery.
5.0 out of 5 stars A most enjoyable read
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on September 12, 2017
I had never read any of these stories previously but it soon becomes apparent why they are included in the classic novels. Soon got used to the dialect by reading it in context. An excellent and uplifting account of people thrown together in dire circumstances and the human spirit which carried them along. Perhaps not for the current PC generation but a great snapshot of history.
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