Page 1. LORD OF THE FLIES a novel by. WILLIAM GOLDING. Page 2. Contents. 1. The Sound of the Shell. 2. Fire on the Mountain. 3. Huts on the Beach. 4. Language Mind the Gap study guide for the novel, Lord of the Flies by William are Short Stories, Poetry, To Kill a Mockingbird, A Grain of Wheat, Lord of. LORD OF THE FLIES a novel by. WILLIAM GOLDING. Chapter 1. The Sound of the Shell. Chapter 2. Fire on the Mountain. Chapter 3. Huts on the Beach.
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FocusON READING Lord of the Flies Allyssa Arizmendi Three Watson Irvine, CA Web site: xumodaperma.tk PDF | This paper focuses on the a brief review on life, writing features displayed in his latter major work Lord of the Flies compared with other “deserted island”. PDF | This research deals with the main themes in the novel Lord of the Flies written by the British novelist William Golding. It shows how the.
Tempers between the two boys soon flare up, and they climb the mountain in the dark to prove their courage. They spot the shadowy parachutist and think he's the beast.
The next morning, Jack challenges Ralph's authority at an assembly. Ralph wins, but Jack leaves the group, and most of the older boys join him. Jack's tribe paint their faces, hunt, and kill a pig. They then leave its head as an offering to the beast. Simon comes upon the head, and sees that it's the Lord of the Flies—the beast within all men. While Jack invites everyone to come to a feast, Simon climbs the mountain and sees the parachutist.
When Simon returns to tell everyone the truth about the "beast," however, the boys at the feast have become a frenzied mob, acting out a ritual killing of a pig. The mob thinks Simon is the beast and kills him.
Jack's tribe moves to the rock fort. They steal Piggy's glasses to make fire. Ralph and his last allies, Piggy and the twins named Samneric, go to get the glasses back.
Jack's tribe captures the twins, and a boy named Roger rolls a boulder from the fort that smashes the conch and kills Piggy. The next day the tribe hunts Ralph, setting fire to the forest as they do. He evades them as best he can, and becomes a kind of animal that thinks only of survival and escape.
Eventually the boys corner Ralph on the beach where they first set up their society when they crash landed on the island. But the burning jungle has attracted a British Naval ship, and an officer is standing on the shore.
The boys stop, stunned, and stare at the man. He jokingly asks if the boys are playing at war, and whether there were any casualties. When Ralph says yes, the officer is shocked and disappointed that English boys would act in such a manner.
Ralph starts to cry, and soon the other boys start crying too. The officer, uncomfortable, looks away toward his warship. Florman, Ben.
Retrieved November 20, Copy to Clipboard. The sow gave a gasping squeal and staggered up,with two spears sticking in her fat flank. The boys shouted and rushed forward, the pigletsscattered and the sow burst the advancing line and went crashing away through the forest. Then he said nothing for a time but breathedfiercely so that they were awed by him and looked at each other in uneasy admiration. Presently he stabbed down at the ground with his finger.
So he followed, mysteriously right and assured, and thehunters trod behind him. He stopped before a covert. The trailing butts hindered her and the sharp, cross-cut points were a torment. Sheblundered into a tree, forcing a spear still deeper; and after that any of the hunters couldfollow her easily by the drops of vivid blood.
The afternoon wore on, hazy and dreadful withdamp heat; the sow staggered her way ahead of them, bleeding and mad, and the hunters followed, wedded to her in lust, excited by the long chase and the dropped blood. They couldsee her now, nearly got up with her, but she spurted with her last strength and held ahead ofthem again. They were just behind her when she staggered into an open space where brightflowers grew and butterflies danced round each other and the air was hot and still.
Here, struck down by the heat, the sow fell and the hunters hurled themselves at her. This dreadful eruption from an unknown world made her frantic; she squealed and bucked andthe air was full of sweat and noise and blood and terror.
Roger ran round the heap, proddingwith his spear whenever pigflesh appeared.
Jack was on top of the sow, stabbing downwardwith his knife. Roger found a lodgment for his point and began to push till he was leaning withhis whole weight. The spear moved forward inch by inch and the terrified squealing became ahighpitched scream. Then Jack found the throat and the hot blood spouted over his hands.
The sow collapsed under them and they were heavy and fulfilled upon her. The butterflies stilldanced, preoccupied in the center of the clearing. At last the immediacy of the kill subsided. The boys drew back, and Jack stood up,holding out his hands. Then Jackgrabbed Maurice and rubbed the stuff over his cheeks. Roger began to withdraw his spear andboys noticed it for the first time. Robert stabilized the thing in a phrase which was receiveduproariously.
At length even this palled. Jack began to clean his bloody hands on the rock. Then hestarted work on the sow and paunched her, lugging out the hot bags of colored guts, pushingthem into a pile on the rock while the others watched him. He talked as he worked. I'll go back to the platform and invite them to afeast. That should give us time.
There must be four of you; Henry and you, Robert andMaurice. We'll put on paint and sneak up; Roger can snatch a branch while I say what I want.
The rest of you can get this back to where we were. We'll build the fire there. His voice was lowerwhen he spoke again. The boys crowded round him. Hespoke over his shoulder to Roger. Oh--it's rock. Jam it in that crack.
He stood back and the head hung there, a little blooddribbling down the stick. Instinctively the boys drew back too; and the forest was very still. They listened, andthe loudest noise was the buzzing of flies over the spilled guts. Jack spoke in a whisper.
Inthe silence, and standing over the dry blood, they looked suddenly furtive. Jack spoke loudly. It's a gift.
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The head remained there, dim-eyed,grinning faintly, blood blackening between the teeth. All at once they were running away, asfast as they could, through the forest toward the open beach. Simon stayed where he was, a small brown image, concealed by the leaves. Even if heshut his eyes the sow's head still remained like an after-image. The half-shut eyes were dimwith the infinite cynicism of adult life.
They assured Simon that everything was a bad business.
He opened his eyes quickly and there wasthe head grinning amusedly in the strange daylight, ignoring the flies, the spilled guts, evenignoring the indignity of being spiked on a stick. He looked away, licking his dry lips. A gift for the beast. Might not the beast come for it? The head, he thought, appearedto agree with him. Run away, said the head silently, go back to the others.
It was a joke really--why should you bother? You were just wrong, that's all.
Who Should Read “Lord of the Flies”? And Why?
A little headache, something you ate,perhaps. Go back, child, said the head silently. Simon looked up, feeling the weight of his wet hair, and gazed at the sky. Up there, foronce, were clouds, great bulging towers that sprouted away over the island, grey and cream andcopper-colored. The clouds were sitting on the land; they squeezed, produced moment bymoment this close, tormenting heat.
Even the butterflies deserted the open space where theobscene thing grinned and dripped. Simon lowered his head, carefully keeping his eyes shut,then sheltered them with his hand. There were no shadows under the trees but everywhere apearly stillness, so that what was real seemed illusive and without definition.
The pile of gutswas a black blob of flies that buzzed like a saw.
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After a while these flies found Simon. Gorged,they alighted by his runnels of sweat and drank. They tickled under his nostrils and playedleapfrog on his thighs.
They were black and iridescent green and without number; and in frontof Simon, the Lord of the Flies hung on his stick and grinned. At last Simon gave up andlooked back; saw the white teeth and dim eyes, the blood--and his gaze was held by thatancient, inescapable recognition.
In Simon's right temple, a pulse began to beat on the brain.
Lord of the Flies
Ralph and Piggy lay in the sand, gazing at the fire and idly flicking pebbles into itssmokeless heart. We're out of green branches.
There were no shadows under the palms on the platform;only this strange light that seemed to come from everywhere at once. High up among thebulging clouds thunder went off like a gun.
The branch crackled, the leaves curled and the yellow smoke expanded. Piggy made an aimless little pattern in the sand with his fingers. You got to treat Samnenc as oneturn. Don't you see? They ought to do two turns.
He was vexed to find how little he thought likea grownup and sighed again. The island was getting worse and worse. Piggy looked at the fire. What are we going to do? Hetried to formulate. I mean I'm scared of that too. But nobody else understands aboutthe fire. If someone threw you a rope when you were drowning. If a doctor said take thisbecause if you don't take it you'll die--you would, wouldn't you?
I mean? Can't they understand? Without the smoke signal we'll die here? Lookat that! And they don't care. Supposing I got like the others--not caring. What'ud become of us? We just got to go on, that's all. That's what grownups would do. I mean. When he understood how far Ralph hadgone toward accepting him he flushed pinkly with pride.
I expect it's him. Ralph nodded solemnly. Demoniac figures with faces of white and redand green rushed out howling, so that the littluns fled screaming. Out of the corner of his eye,Ralph saw Piggy running. Two figures rushed at the fire and he prepared to defend himself butthey grabbed half-burnt branches and raced away along the beach.
The three others stood still,watching Ralph; and he saw that the tallest of them, stark naked save for paint and a belt, wasJack. Ralph had his breath back and spoke. Me and my hunters, we're living along the beach by a flat rock. Wehunt and feast and have fun. If you want to join my tribe come and see us. Perhaps I'll let youjoin. Perhaps not. He was safe from shame or self-consciousness behind themask of his paint and could look at each of them in turn.
Ralph was kneeling by the remains ofthe fire like a sprinter at his mark and his face was half-hidden by hair and smut. Samnericpeered together round a palm tree at the edge of the forest. A littlun howled, creased andcrimson, by the bathing pool and Piggy stood on the platform, the white conch gripped in hishands.
We've killed a pig and we've got meat. You can comeand eat with us if you like. Jack and the two anonymoussavages with him swayed, looking up, and then recovered. The littlun went on howling. Jackwas waiting for something. He whispered urgently to the others. Jack spoke sharply. Presently Ralph rose to his feet,looking at the place where the savages had vanished. Samneric came, talking in an awedwhisper. Can't think why.
Piggy placed it inRalph's hand and the littluns, seeing the familiar symbol, started to come back. First went Ralph, the whiteconch cradled, then Piggy very grave, then the twins, then the littluns and the others. They raided us for fire. They're having fun. There was something hewanted to say; then the shutter had come down.
Ralph pushed the idiot hair out of his eyes and looked at Piggy. Of course, the fire! Without the fire we can't be rescued.
I'd like toput on war-paint and be a savage. But we must keep the fire burning. Piggy whispered urgently. So we must stay by the fire and makesmoke. After the many brilliant speeches that hadbeen made on this very spot Ralph's remarks seemed lame, even to the littluns. At last Bill held out his hands for the conch. Let's go to this feast and tell them the fire's hard on the rest ofus. And the hunting and all that, being savages I mean--it must be jolly good fun. Bill answered. They're all hunters.
That's different. Overhead the cannonboomed again and the dry palm fronds clattered in a sudden gust of hot wind. They think you're batty. You don't want Ralph to think you're batty, do you? You like Ralph alot, don't you? And Piggy, and Jack? His eyes could not break away and the Lord of theFlies hung in space before him.
Aren't you afraid of me? Only me. And I'm the Beast. For amoment or two the forest and all the other dimly appreciated places echoed with the parodyof laughter. I'm part of you? Close, close, close! I'm the reason why it'sno go? Why things are what they are? His eyes were half closed as though he were imitating theobscene thing on the stick. He knew that one of his times was coming on.
The Lord of theFlies was expanding like a balloon. You know perfectly well you'll only meet me down there--so don'ttry to escape! The Lord of the Flies spoke in the voice of aschoolmaster. My poor, misguided child, do you think you knowbetter than I do? I'm going to get angry. D'you see? You're not wanted. We are going to have fun on this island. We are going to have fun on this island! There was blackness within, a blacknessthat spread. Do you. He fell down and lost consciousness.
A steady current of heated air rose allday from the mountain and was thrust to ten thousand feet; revolving masses of gas piled upthe static until the air was ready to explode. By early evening the sun had gone and a brassyglare had taken the place of clear daylight.
Even the air that pushed in from the sea was hotand held no refreshment. Colors drained from water and trees and pink surfaces of rock, andthe white and brown clouds brooded.
Nothing prospered but the flies who blackened theirlord and made the spilt guts look like a heap of glistening coal. Even when the vessel broke inSimon's nose and the blood gushed out they left him alone, preferring the pig's high flavor. With the running of the blood Simon's fit passed into the weariness of sleep. He lay inthe mat of creepers while the evening advanced and the cannon continued to play. At last hewoke and saw dimly the dark earth close by his cheek.
Still he did not move but lay there, hisface sideways on the earth, his eyes looking dully before him.
Then he turned over, drew hisfeet under him and laid hold of the creepers to pull himself up. When the creepers shook theflies exploded from the guts with a vicious note and clamped back on again.
Simon got to hisfeet. The light was unearthly. The Lord of the Flies hung on his stick like a black ball.
Simon spoke aloud to the clearing. Simon turned away from the open space and crawled through thecreepers till he was in the dusk of the forest.
He walked drearily between the trunks, his faceempty of expression, and the blood was dry round his mouth and chin. Only sometimes as helifted the ropes of creeper aside and chose his direction from the trend of the land, hemouthed words that did not reach the air.
Presently the creepers festooned the trees less frequently and there was a scatter ofpearly light from the sky down through the trees. This was the backbone of the island, theslightly higher land that lay beneath the mountain where the forest was no longer deep jungle. Here there were wide spaces interspersed with thickets and huge trees and the trend of theground led him up as the forest opened.
He pushed on, staggering sometimes with hisweariness but never stopping. The usual brightness was gone from his eyes and he walked witha sort of glum determination like an old man. A buffet of wind made him stagger and he saw that he was out in the open, on rock,under a brassy sky.
He found his legs were weak and his tongue gave him pain all the time. When the wind reached the mountain-top he could see something happen, a flicker of bluestuff against brown clouds. He pushed himself forward and the wind came again, stronger now,cuffing the forest heads till they ducked and roared. Simon saw a humped thing suddenly sit upon the top and look down at him.
He hid his face, and toiled on. The flies had found the figure too. The life-like movement would scare them off for amoment so that they made a dark cloud round the head. Then as the blue material of theparachute collapsed the corpulent figure would bow forward, sighing, and the flies settle oncemore.
Simon felt his knees smack the rock. He crawled forward and soon he understood. Thetangle of lines showed him the mechanics of this parody; he examined the white nasal bones,the teeth, the colors of corruption. He saw how pitilessly the layers of rubber and canvas heldtogether the poor body that should be rotting away.
Then the wind blew again and the figurelifted, bowed, and breathed foully at him. Simon knelt on all fours and was sick till his stomachwas empty.
Then he took the lines in his hands; he freed them from the rocks and the figurefrom the wind's indignity. At last he turned away and looked down at the beaches. The fire by the platformappeared to be out, or at least making no smoke. Further along the beach, beyond the littleriver and near a great slab of rock, a thin trickle of smoke was climbing into the sky. Simon,forgetful of the flies, shaded his eyes with both hands and peered at the smoke. Even at thatdistance it was possible to see that most of the boys--perhaps all of the boys--were there.
Sothey had shifted camp then, away from the beast. As Simon thought this, he turned to the poor broken thing that sat stinking by his side. The beast was harmless and horrible; and thenews must reach the others as soon as possible. He started down the mountain and his legsgave beneath him. Even with great care the best he could do was a stagger. Remember how it rained just after we landed?
A couple of littluns were playing at the edge, trying toextract comfort from a wetness warmer than blood. Piggy took off his glasses, stepped primlyinto the water and then put them on again. Ralph came to the surface and squirted a jet ofwater at him.
He laughed at Piggy, expecting him to retire meeklyas usual and in pained silence. Instead, Piggy beat the water with his hands. I wish the air was cooler. His stomach protruded and thewater dried on it. Ralph squinted up at the sky. One could guess at the movement of the sunby the progress of a light patch among the clouds. He knelt in the water and looked round. Jack's party. Long before Ralph and Piggy came up with Jack's lot, they could hear the party. Therewas a stretch of grass in a place where the palms left a wide band of turf between the forestand the shore.
Just one step down from the edge of the turf was the white, blown sand ofabove high water, warm, dry, trodden. Below that again was a rock that stretched away towardthe lagoon. Beyond was a short stretch of sand and then the edge of the water. A fire burnedon the rock and fat dripped from the roasting pigmeat into the invisible flames.
All the boys ofthe island, except Piggy, Ralph, Simon, and the two tending the pig, were grouped on the turf. They were laughing, singing, lying, squatting, or standing on the grass, holding food in theirhands. But to judge by the greasy faces, the meat eating was almost done; and some heldcoconut shells in their hands and were drinking from them.
Before the party had started agreat log had been dragged into the center of the lawn and Jack, painted and garlanded, satthere like an idol. There were piles of meat on green leaves near him, and fruit, and coconutshells full of drink. Piggy and Ralph came to the edge of the grassy platform; and the boys, as they noticedthem, fell silent one by one till only the boy next to Jack was talking.
Then the silenceintruded even there and Jack turned where he sat. For a time he looked at them and thecrackle of the fire was the loudest noise over the droning of the reef. Ralph looked away; andSam, thinking that Ralph had turned to him accusingly, put down his gnawed bone with anervous giggle. Ralph took an uncertain step, pointed to a palm tree, and whispered somethinginaudible to Piggy; and they both giggled like Sam.
Lifting his feet high out of the sand, Ralphstarted to stroll past. Piggy tried to whistle. At this moment the boys who were cooking at the fire suddenly hauled off a greatchunk of meat and ran with it toward the grass. They bumped Piggy, who was burnt, andyelled and danced.
Immediately, Ralph and the crowd of boys were united and relieved by astorm of laughter. Piggy once more was the center of social derision so that everyone feltcheerful and normal. Jack stood up and waved his spear. They took thegift, dribbling. So they stood and ate beneath a sky of thunderous brass that rang with thestorm-coming. Jack waved his spear again. Betrayed by his stomach, Piggy threw a picked bone down on the beach and stooped for more. Jack spoke again, impatiently. Seeing there was no immediate likelihood of a pause, Jack rosefrom the log that was his throne and sauntered to the edge of the grass.
He looked down frombehind his paint at Ralph and Piggy. They moved a little farther off over the sand and Ralphwatched the fire as he ate. He noticed, without understanding, how the flames were visiblenow against the dull light. Evening was come, not with calm beauty but with the threat ofviolence. Jack spoke.
Power lay in the brown swell of his forearms: authority sat on his shoulder and chattered in hisear like an ape. Jack ignored them for the moment, turned hismask down to the seated boys and pointed at them with the spear. Some of the boys turnedtoward him. Who willjoin my tribe? And we were going to keep the firegoing. That was your job. See, clever? Instead of the dull boom there was a point of impact inthe explosion.
There was no help in them and he looked away,confused and sweating. Piggy whispered. There's going to be trouble. And we've had our meat. Big drops of rain fell among them making individual soundswhen they struck. Who's clever now? Where are your shelters? What are you going to do about that? Awave of restlessness set the boys swaying and moving aimlessly. The flickering light becamebrighter and the blows of the thunder were only just bearable.
The littluns began to run about,screaming. Jack leapt on to the sand. Come on! Between the flashes of lightning the air was dark and terrible; and the boys followed him,clamorously. Roger became the pig, grunting and charging at Jack, who side-stepped. Thehunters took their spears, the cooks took spits, and the rest clubs of firewood.
A circlingmovement developed and a chant. While Roger mimed the terror of the pig, the littluns ranand jumped on the outside of the circle. Piggy and Ralph, under the threat of the sky, foundthemselves eager to take a place in this demented but partly secure society. They were glad totouch the brown backs of the fence that hemmed in the terror and made it governable. Cut his throat! Spill his blood! Roger ceased to be a pig and became a hunter, so that thecenter of the ring yawned emptily.
Some of the littluns started a ring on their own; and thecomplementary circles went round and round as though repetition would achieve safety ofitself. There was the throb and stamp of a single organism. The dark sky was shattered by a blue-white scar. An instant later the noise was on themlike the blow of a gigantic whip.
The chant rose a tone in agony. The littluns screamed and blundered about, fleeing from the edge of the forest, and one ofthem broke the ring of biguns in his terror. A thing was crawling out of the forest. It came darkly,uncertainly. The shrill screaming that rose before the beast was like a pain. The beaststumbled into the horseshoe. Simon was crying outsomething about a dead man on a hill.
Do him in! The beast wason its knees in the center, its arms folded over its face. It was crying out against theabominable noise something about a body on the hill. The beast struggled forward, broke thering and fell over the steep edge of the rock to the sand by the water. At once the crowdsurged after it, poured down the rock, leapt on to the beast, screamed, struck, bit, tore. Therewere no words, and no movements but the tearing of teeth and claws.
Then the clouds opened and let down the rain like a waterfall. The water bounded fromthe mountain-top, tore leaves and branches from the trees, poured like a cold shower over thestruggling heap on the sand.
Presently the heap broke up and figures staggered away. Only thebeast lay still, a few yards from the sea. Even in the rain they could see how small a beast itwas; and already its blood was staining the sand. Now a great wind blew the rain sideways, cascading the water from the forest trees. Onthe mountain-top the parachute filled and moved; the figure slid, rose to its feet, spun, swayeddown through a vastness of wet air and trod with ungainly feet the tops of the high trees; falling, still falling, it sank toward the beach and the boys rushed screaming into the darkness.
The parachute took the figure forward, furrowing the lagoon, and bumped it over the reef andout to sea. Toward midnight the rain ceased and the clouds drifted away, so that the sky wasscattered once more with the incredible lamps of stars. Then the breeze died too and therewas no noise save the drip and trickle of water that ran out of clefts and spilled down, leaf byleaf, to the brown earth of the island.
The air was cool, moist, and clear; and presently even thesound of the water was still. The beast lay huddled on the pale beach and the stains spread,inch by inch. The edge of the lagoon became a streak of phosphorescence which advanced minutely,as the great wave of the tide flowed.
The clear water mirrored the clear sky and the angularbright constellations. The line of phosphorescence bulged about the sand grains and littlepebbles; it held them each in a dimple of tension, then suddenly accepted them with aninaudible syllable and moved on. Along the shoreward edge of the shallows the advancing clearness was full of strange,moonbeam-bodied creatures with fiery eyes. Here and there a larger pebble clung to its ownair and was covered with a coat of pearls.
The tide swelled in over the rain-pitted sand andsmoothed everything with a layer of silver.All but Piggy scavenge for materials to fuel the fire, only to realize that they do not know how to start a fire without matches. Driven back by the tide, his footprints became bays in which [the little sea creatures] were trapped and gave him the illusion of mastery. What does Ralph say is the most important thing to keep in mind?
Consequently, they determined that another work on the author by a single writer with a single perspective was not necessary and instead invited 14 literary critics to share their assessments. Retrieved November 20,
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