Lord of the Flies by William Golding

While the tribe feasts inside Castle Rock, Ralph makes his way back to the platform. Once there, he is reluctant to spend the night alone in the shelter and decides to return to Jack’s end of the island to try reasoning with them again. On the way, he encounters the pig’s skull that had spoken to Simon. Finding it eerily life-like and knowing, he knocks it to the ground and takes the stake as a weapon.

Back at Castle Rock, he sees that Samneric are on watch, having been forced to join the tribe. He approaches them cautiously, hoping to win back their loyalty. They tell him of the manhunt planned for the next day and give him some meat. Someone from the tribe hears them talking to Ralph and punishes them.

Ralph finds a place to sleep for the night. The next morning, his hiding place, a dense thicket, is betrayed by Samneric. The tribe is unsuccessful at reaching him in the thicket, so they flush him out by rolling boulders into it and setting it on fire. Once Ralph is on the run, the tribe follows him, communicating with each other with an ululating cry.

Ralph finds another impenetrable thicket to hide in but is discovered there as well. Now the fire has spread across the island so that he has to outrun the savages and the fire. He makes it to the beach and falls at the feet of a newly arrived British naval officer, whose ship had been attracted by the smoke from the huge fire. The officer confirms that his ship will take them off the island. Ralph breaks into sobs, weeping for all he has lost.

Commentary

Watching the savages retreat, Ralph tries to identify them as individuals and guesses one to be Bill. Then he realizes that, in fact, “this was not Bill” and he’s right: Once divorced from his previously civilized self in appearance, behavior, and values, the individual who was Bill is gone. In the previous chapter, after Jack throws a spear with deadly intention at Ralph, Golding stops using Jack’s name and refers to him as “the chief.” The boy named Jack has been totally replaced with a primal entity, the personification of the beast’s lust for power and the rejection of the civilizing forces represented by Ralph.

Even after the attack, Ralph so craves human companionship—the devil he knows—that he returns to Castle Rock to reason with Jack’s tribe again on the next day, relying on their “daylight sanity.” “Daylight sanity” is another term for common sense; Piggy tells Ralph in Chapter 8 that lack of common sense is the source of all the trouble on the island. At the time, Piggy referred to practicality, or a sound judgement of the actions they would need to take to attract a rescue ship and co-exist with some amount of civility.

Common sense could also be understood, however, as communal sentiment, a shared sensibility of what’s important and what’s allowed. Ralph “knew he was an outcast. @‘Cos I had some sense,’” he tells himself—not just common sense but a sense of his identity as a civilized person, a sense of the particular morality that had governed the boys’ culture back home. When Jack threw the spear at Ralph, Jack made him an outcast, disallowing his easy assimilation into the group even if he had wanted to forsake rescue in favor of hunting. When Ralph tries to reason with the newly tribal twins and gain an understanding of Jack’s hatred of him, Eric says “Never mind what’s sense. That’s gone.” Jack’s tribe lacks sense in terms of logically justifiable attitudes and behaviors.

In response to his desperate situation, bereft of any companion and the conch as well, Ralph reverts to a childish state. He “whimpered and yawned like a littlun” when facing the coming night with its attendant fears. Later, as he is hunted, he reverts back not in time but in character to his primal self, squatting in a thicket, baring his teeth, and snarling. Becoming the prey brings out the animal survival instincts coupled with innate human intellect in him: He seeks a “lair” in which to spend the night and thinks ahead to his hiding place the next day. He prepares himself to poke whoever discovers him with his spear so that the manhunter “would be stuck, squealing like a pig.” Acting purely out of the fundamental drive for survival, he attacks two savages who stand between him and escape, and wounds a third from his hiding place. The members of Jack’s tribe have ceased to be human for him; he thinks of them as “those striped and inimical creatures.” Hunting has become their identity rather than their activity. In contrast, Ralph still thinks sensibly even when on the run: when the forest fire burns the fruit trees, he curses the tribe for failing to think ahead when they set the fire: “Fools! … what would they eat tomorrow?”

During his flight, Ralph longs for Piggy’s counsel, wishing for the solemnity of the assemblies made dignified by the conch rather than having to make life or death decisions while on the run for his life. “If only one had time to think!” he laments. Civilization makes for plenty of time to think, providing institutions like universities where the scholars can devote themselves to mental activities. Such protection allows the abstract arts such as philosophy and theoretical work in the arts and sciences to flourish; in such a protected environment, a fragile boy like Simon could have learned to express fully and accurately his intuitive understanding of humanity’s dark side. Note that Simon’s prophecy comes back to Ralph in a flash during the hunt. In a moment of great desperation, cornered in his hiding place by a savage and having just realized the purpose of a stick sharpened at both ends, the phrase “You’ll get back” surfaces, as if Simon’s spirit haunts the island.

If Simon’s ghost is present, it is there to comfort Ralph and reach out to him with its knowledge, unlike the Lord of the Flies. When Ralph encounters the Lord of the Flies, he finds a “skull that gleamed as white as ever the conch had done.” This description symbolizes the universal and infinite struggle between good and evil. The skull is vested with the knowledge that was revealed to Simon: Evil is present in us all, and we must struggle not to allow it to dominate us.

Knocking the skull to the ground and breaking it into pieces is a small victory over the beast for Ralph. More to the point, he takes the stake on which the head rested so that he has his own stick sharpened at both ends. Like a blade that cuts both ways, he’ll use the savage’s stick to defend himself from them. Preoccupied with keeping on the move, he doesn’t realize until late in the hunt that he is himself carrying a stick sharpened on both ends. At this point he realizes that his head is meant to become the ultimate offering to the beast, the beast’s greatest victory yet on the island.

The officer of the gunboat that Ralph encounters simultaneously represents Ralph’s original moral naiveté and Jack’s propensity toward evil and destruction. As Ralph encounters the officer, he sees not a face but all the markings of the officer’s “tribe”: the cap with the crown, anchor and gold leaves, the uniform with epaulettes and buttons, and the revolver. The decorative elements of his uniform symbolize his civilized war paint. From the officer’s point of view, Ralph is hardly the prey of a deadly tribe but a boy who “needed a bath, a haircut, a nose-wipe, and a good deal of ointment.” When he sees Jack’s tribe wearing war paint and carrying spears, he assesses the situation as “Fun and games.” Although he doesn’t recognize it or understand his complicity in his own “fun and games,” the naval officer has correctly identified the hunt: It’s the sort of fun the Lord of the Flies assured Simon would take place on the island; the type of fun that, even at the time of the boys’ rescue, is taking place on a larger scale with the war.

The officer echoes a sentiment expressed by Jack in Chapter 2 (“we’re not savages. We’re English … So we’ve got to do the right things”). Learning of the two deaths, the officer comments “I should have thought that a pack of British boys … would have … put up a better show than that.” Both Jack and the officer are equally ignorant of the truth of the matter: Like all of humanity, these boys have and act on impulses that are at best uncivil and at worst deadly. In the novel, Golding uses events and mores associated with the British (his own culture), but his theme is universal. Although one could limit the interpretation to British imperialism (bestial aspects of British colonialism contrast sharply with the supremely polite British identity, for example), to do so would be to deny the larger truth: That all people—and therefore all societies—possess and display, to varying degrees, these deadly impulses.

Glossary