Lord Of The Flies

 William Golding's first novel, The Lord Of The Flies, is the most unremittingly negative book I have ever read.  Yes, it's genius.  Yes, I've read it many times, starting when I was far too young to grasp much of it.  The story is well known, a group of boys from a private school board a plane to escape atomic war and it crashes on a jungle island, usually assumed to be in the Pacific.  As I recall, the plane leaves from England so the island would be in the Caribbean.  Since the story is speculative but not science fiction the only plane capable at the time of making a flight from England to a tropical island was the Globemaster, with a range of about 4000 miles. I'll get back to you guys about that.

Written in reaction to the 1857 novel The Coral Island by R. M. Ballantyne, Golding felt that the boys, any group of boys, would go feral in such circumstances.  The book has become symbolic of mankind at large, and is often cited as a grimly prophetic vision.  Every action, scene, and character is loaded with symbolism.  I've read it many times, as I said, and I have never enjoyed it.  Not only is it a vision of Hell, it's dead on accurate in it's depiction of young men running wild with no restraint.  Currently all large American cities with populations of idle and uneducated, let alone not very well brought up, young men are currently under siege from mindless violence fueling on itself. 

The scene above is where the epileptic Simon is looking at the pig's head Jack jammed unto a stick as an offering to The Beast, a formless horror believed to be on the island.  Simon has a conversation with the head that is well worth reading-

(The leader of the hunting faction, Jack, has just killed a pig and stuck it's head on a stick as an offering for The Beast.  Simon is kneeling in front of it after the others have left and the pig's head speaks to him):

"You are a silly little boy," said the Lord of the Flies, "just an ignorant,
silly little boy."

Simon moved his swollen tongue but said nothing.

"Don't you agree?" said the Lord of the Flies. "Aren't you just a silly little
boy?"

Simon answered him in the same silent voice.

"Well then," said the Lord of the Flies, "you'd better run off and play with
the others. They think you're batty. You don't want Ralph to think you're
batty, do you? You like Ralph a lot, don't you? And Piggy, and Jack?"

Simon's head was tilted slightly up. His eyes could not break away and
the Lord of the Flies hung in space before him.

"What are you doing out here all alone? Aren't you afraid of me?"
Simon shook.

"There isn't anyone to help you. Only me. And I'm the Beast."

Simon's mouth labored, brought forth audible words.
"Pig's head on a stick."

"Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill!" said
the head. For a moment or two the forest and all the other dimly appreciated
places echoed with the parody of laughter. "You knew, didn't you? I'm part
of you? Close, close, close! I'm the reason why it's no go? Why things are
what they are?"

The laughter shivered again.

"Come now," said the Lord of the Flies. "Get back to the others and we'll
forget the whole thing."

Simon's head wobbled. His eyes were half closed as though he were
imitating the obscene thing on the stick. He knew that one of his times was
coming on. The Lord of the Flies was expanding like a balloon.

"This is ridiculous. You know perfectly well you'll only meet me down
there―so don't try to escape!"

Simon's body was arched and stiff. The Lord of the Flies spoke in the
voice of a schoolmaster.

"This has gone quite far enough. My poor, misguided child, do you think

you know better than I do?"

There was a pause.

"I'm warning you. I'm going to get angry. D'you see? You're not wanted.
Understand? We are going to have fun on this island. Understand? We are
going to have fun on this island! So don't try it on, my poor misguided boy,
or else―"

Simon found he was looking into a vast mouth. There was blackness
within, a blackness that spread.

"―Or else," said the Lord of the Flies, "we shall do you? See? Jack and
Roger and Maurice and Robert and Bill and Piggy and Ralph. Do you.
See?"

Simon was inside the mouth. He fell down and lost consciousness.

In a day or two I will post my latest drawing, anthro of course, of the scene involving the death of Simon and The Beast From The Air.  To my surprise, the picture has turned out to have more impact than I thought it had, which doesn't make it great art, of course.  I have no idea who is responsible for the excellent picture I chose as a header to this post, but this is very, very good.  Someone really grasped the meaning of the scene.  The Lord of the Flies is a high ranking demon, Beelzebub, often and mistakenly thought to be Satan.  Living on the marshy, white hot Texas coast as I do gives me some insight into why such an entity would be considered a major evil.  Here is a link to a post I made out of this years ago, and for those that can access my blog I think you will find it worth reading-

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Lord Of The Flies, William Golding.  1954.