Wednesday, March 12, 2008

What is this?

Stalking more silently than a hunter,
Making a kill more regularly than Jack,
Though it hunts more than pigs,
Preys on the choir,
Grabs them with icy, needle sharp claws,
Long black fur hides it's face,
Where red eyes gleam,
Captured the littluns,
Moves through the trees with out a sound,
Crouches on the mountain,
Comes in the night,
When all is dark and the littluns whimper at the sight,
Attacked solitary Simon,
Disguised as the Lord,
Though he and Ralph broke free from the toils,
And ran to stay that way,
Steers clear of Piggy,
Followed Jack who made it his weapon,
More deadly than a spear,
What is this,
It is fear.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008


Dancing in the evening air,
Caressing backs burdened with care,
Touching the hunters coming from the wood,
These shadows touch all, like good shadows should,
The boys on the island so dark and green,
The shadows touch even what to them is unseen,
The boy behind the curtain of vines,
He with the shadows sees the signs,
A collapse and the future fight,
A fight against the darkness and a fight for what's right,
Sees the glasses stolen from the true,
Evil on this island is something new,
The blameless's blood spilled on the floor,
And the reaper is knocking on the quiet boy's door.


The storm breaks over the island,
Thunder crashes,
Lightening falls like divine judgment,
The parachutist trembles on the mountain top,
Finally resting on the ground,
Simon crawls to tell the world,
The boys dance in sickening gyration,
Spears and claws,
Teeth flashing,
He emerges,
Shouting to be heard over the savage hiss of the fire,
The patter of the rain,
The boom of the thunder,
They turn and attack,
He struggles,
But fails,
Tries to break free,
But is engulfed,
And the waves carry him and the parachutist away,
To rest at the bottom of the stormy,
Rolling ocean.


Lower the curtain of vines down,
Throw the skull into the seas,
Build up a funeral pyre on the mountain,
Let Simon drift in the waves,
Piggy sinks and lays on the bottom,
Lay his glasses on the mountain,
Where he tried so hard,
To keep the fire burning,
Raise a monument to the hunters,
And the fallen sow,
Lay Roger in a grave in the pig run,
While Ralph sails away,
Remembering the past,
And going on,
Past the Island's end.

Monday, March 10, 2008

Blog 12- Trial Preparation

For the trial of Jack Merridew I am playing the role of Maurice. Described as being "Second in height to Jack" among the Hunters, Maurice is one of the older boys.

Chapter 1 and 2: I arrive with Jack and the others and am one of 12 boys to vote for him as chief. I race up the mountain after Jack and try to build the fire.
Chapter 3 and 4: I go hunting with Jack but am sent back by him. I go back and play in the lagoon. I, along with fellow hunter, Roger, knock over the littluns' sand castles. I then wander off. I go hunting in the ring and am one of the ones to help catch and kill the pig. We come back and are confronted by Ralph. We cook the meat and eat it.
Chapter 5: I go to the meeting called by Ralph. He complains about our lack of order. Jack leaves and we all follow. Only Simon, Ralph and Piggy remain.
Chapter 6 and 7: Since we are scared of the beast we go out on a hunt for it. Ralph comes along this time. We play the pig game and it gets out of control. We go on. Jack and Ralph go ahead. We then follow and only grudgingly obey. We wait while Jack, Ralph and Roger go on. They rush down afraid.
Chapter 8 and 9: Jack calls a meeting that we all attend. When he is not voted to replace Ralph he goes off on him own. I later follow. He proclaims himself the new chief. We go hunting and kill a pig in a glade. Then Jack, Roger and Robert go and announce our party to the others. In this chapter the party occurs. The thunder and lightening begin after Piggy and Ralph arrive. We do our dance on the beach. Simon crawls out and we think he is the beast. We attack him. Something blows down past us into the ocean and we are terrified. WIth Roger and Jack I mount a surprise attck on the camp consisting of Ralph, Piggy and Samneric. We steal Piggy's glasses.
Chapter 10 and 11: The others come to our camp while Jack is out hunting. After confrontation Roger rolls a boulder down that kills Piggy. Samneric are tied up and made to join us. We go hunting for Ralph. We light a fire to flush him out of a thicket and light the whole island on fire. A ship appears and rescues us. Ralph says he is the leader. Jack tries to protect Roger and the rest of us and stays quiet. If he had spoken then Roger would have been in trouble. We leave with the officer.
His mentality during the trial is that Jack was his hero.

Thursday, February 28, 2008


The fire spreads along,
The island is burning,
Flames rise and lap the platform where meetings once were,
At the scar where all this began,
At the signal fire mountain where a signal once was,
Through the pig trails,
In the glade where she was killed,
Castle Rock where Piggy fell,
Waves lap at the death rock,
Reflect the orange in the calm lagoon,
A lullaby for the dead,
Twisting shapes like those of the fallen,
Burning creepers near the living,
Smoke rises,
Clouds the skies,
That let down rain when he died,
Clouds where the conch's shattered fragments lay,
Over the broken skull,
That spoke to Simon,
And no one lives on the Island,
Only the ghosts of the dead.

Blog 11-Island of the Boys-Naval Officer's Journal

A plume of smoke rises from a distant speck. Checking the charts we realize that there is an island there.
"Head for the smoke!" The captain commands. "Full speed ahead!" The ship sails through the waters. Briskly heading for the island. The ship draws near a small lagoon. The captain pulls me aside.
"Officer, you take three others and go in the little boat. We'll wait here. Alright?"
"Yes sir." I respond. I snap my fingers and three of the sailors snap to attention and follow me. We get in the little boat that is lowered down into the water. The crew rows toward the lagoon. From all over the island smoke rises and smothers. There is a small faint ululation coming from the island. It ends in a scream that chokes and gurgles. We pull into the lagoon and I hop out onto the beach. There are signs of some sort of society. There are some huts and a meeting ground but there is no one in sight but a few little boys. Suddenly a single boy staggers out onto the beach. He has a gash on his stomach and is holding a spear. His eyes look hunted. Moments later about 10 other boys rush from the wood. When they see the other boy they react toward him. Then they see that I am here and stand still in what appears to be respectful awe. They have wide and disbelieving eyes.
"What happened here?" I address the whole assembly. The newer group are adorned with paint and next to naked. The boys look uncertain. "Are you English boys?" The one who came first nods. "Who was in charge here?" A little boy of about 12 carrying a broken pair of specs with red hair and the remains of a choirboy's cap steps forward then glances around and steps back. The blonde boy steps forward. I eye him thoughtfully. There must have been a fight for leadership that ended so badly. This boy must have fought the savagery around him. His injuries and the fact that he is not painted mean that he is not one of the group. He must have become a renegade.
"I was. This is my fault." He is a brave boy. He seems to absorb the disaster around him and visualize what has transpired here.
"What are your names?" I ask. I turn rapidly to a little one near me. He cowers. I am confused by his timidity.
"My name is. My name is..." He trails off. I urge him to elaborate. He can't seem to even remember his name.
"I thought that English boys should have done better." I say. The blonde leader looks sad. He gazes around him.
"We didn't first, then," He too trails off.
"Are there any bodies?" I inquire.
"Only two, and those were swept out to sea." I shudder. I lead the boys to the boat where my men are looking curiously at the scorched, naked savages that once were demure schoolboys. Suddenly the blond boy looks back at the island. I hear him murmur the word Piggy. He is sobbing as I lead him gently into the boat. Great heaving sobs. When we have gotten them comfortable then I will ask him what happened. Find out the true story of the Island of the Boys.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Into one

Pink and white,
Smooth and faintly clear,
Leadership and life,
Freedom from tyranny,
Huts on the sandy beach,
To keep the beast at bay,
To keep the fire burning,
In hearts weary from trying to stay alive,
A shrill piercing blast,
Yet a healing one,
Pulling on the loose threads and making them into one,
A community,
A family,
Hunter or hut builder,
Littlun or fire maintainer,
One and the same.

Essay 3- The beast on the mountain

In the story the boys claim to see a beast on the mountain next to the signal fire. This "beast" is really only a dead parachutist who fell down from the sky like a symbol of their link to the adult world that has snapped.
First Samneric, the twins who were on duty, see it near the fire when they awake from sleeping on the job. Then Ralph, Roger, and Jack go up the mountain to see for themselves. Jack goes ahead and claims to see the beast. Then, slightly disbelieving, Ralph and Roger go up with Jack to see. They then see it. Ralph describes it as "a great ape".
The number of times that people see this "beast" symbolize the amount that they are tempted by the real beast, inside themselves. First it is seen by Samneric who are in the end, tempted by the beast and the terrors of Roger. Then Jack sees it. He completely gives in to the inner beast and becomes a savage.
Roger sees it and he gives in. Ralph is slightly tempted by the monster and sees it once with Jack. Jack sees it twice. The fact that Ralph sees it with Jack shows that Jack is the beast.
Piggy and Simon, the two who represent goodness never see or believe in the beast and are killed almost for that.
The three boys who go to try to see go up the mountain in the dark. Had they gone up during the light then they would have seen that it was no monster but a dead person. They would not have spread the claims of the beast and would have banished the beast from the minds of the boys. Had they done so then Jack would not have had the edge of fear to hold over his tribe. If he was unable to terrify them as much and he could not form a religion of beast worshiping than his power would have been less absolute. Instead of a failed society that had become a murderous pack led by a tyrannical "god-figure" they might have kept together. The fact that they went up in the dark symbolizes ignorance leading to fear since the beast is a symbol for fears. Had they gone up in the light, educated and ready, prepared and open minded, they would have dispelled these irrational fears and saved their world. They could have remained in the Garden of Eden with out Original Sin, the murder of the Sow stemming from Jack's fear based regime.

A Place Apart

Trees and vines protect,
A mat of leaves,
Butterflies dance lazily,
In oblivious joy,
A boy watches from behind a log,
Dark eyes dreamy,
Eyes unfocused,
No sound but the crashing of waves on the shore,
Free from Jack and his hunters,
From killing,
A place apart,
Freed from sin,
When tempers flared,
He crept quietly away,
To the place in the trees,
No beast here,
No fading morality,
No sinister shapes,
Just a boy,
And his quiet daydreams,
And the silent wood,
A place apart.

Essay 2- Piggy's Other Look

Piggy, the science loving, geeky boy who provides rationality and logic to the group, is a very important character. He is clear-headed, kind-hearted and with only good intentions. In the book he comes to represent the Superego, the part of everyone that follows the rules and is the better part of us. His demise is at the moment in the book where civilization is officially at an end. Ralph, the democratic leader, is on the run, Roger, the cruelty loving, silent hunter is second in command, Simon, the kind, unselfish, truth-seeking boy has been ritually murdered and Jack, the tyrannical, embodiment of the Id is in charge and is worshiped like a god.
Piggy's other look-
Piggy is not an athletic character. His strength is in his mind and not in his body. He is overweight, wears glasses (though this turns out to be a plus,) and has asthma. Also his distant way of talking alienate him from the other boys. Yet Piggy had much to say if any of them chose to listen. Almost all of Ralph's good ideas were Piggy's. As the embodiment of the Superego, Piggy would have prevented the group from spiraling into chaos. If only they had listened. One of the main factors that prevent them from listening is his difference. Had Piggy been slim, athletic and not asthmatic he would have been more socially acceptable. Had this character been socially accepted then the other boys would have been more likely to listen to his wisdom. Had they listened to him they would have seen the errors in Jack's ideas and seen how they led to a collapse and savagery. If Jack's monomania of obsessively seeking after pigs was checked and corrected, if the fears of the beast were dispelled by Piggy's clear logic then the boys would have kept the signal fire alive. They would have kept together as a group and all been rescued instead of a few. The story would have been very different.

The Chase

Silence around,
The dancing shadows slumber,
The leaves are still,
No wind,
The boy creeps forward,
On hands and knees,
The pig ambles on,
She can't see,
Him behind,
On the beach a roof is raised,
Something built for a life soon ended,
A boy splashes in the lagoon's clear water,
Glasses flash with knowledge,
And in the jungle he hunts,
Opaque eyes,
Red hair,
Shadows pattern his back,
He slides forward,
And prepares to,
Make a kill,
The boy at the hut freezes,
His dark eyes widen,
A dreamer's mind,
He knows,
Though does not know what he knows,
The chase is on.

Blog 10- Shattered-Samneric's Journal

We get up the next morning to try and see if by some merciful chance the fire is still burning slightly. Any way to keep it alive. Ralph kneels by ashes and blows. Piggy blindly grips our arm. He tries to squint through the haze that is all he sees since his specs were taken. The fire is out. Completely. Ralph blows until the wind makes a mockery of him, a sad parody and blows the ashes in his face. He coughs and wipes his streaming eyes. The ashes swirl away into the lagoon.
“Its out. What are we to do?” he says. Piggy looks up and locates Ralph from his voice.
“We got to go and get my specs back. I can't hardly see without them.” We tremble. The base where Jack is must be well secured. Ralph nods.
“But how?” Piggy has an idea.
“Call a meeting.”
“For us?”
“Yes, call it Ralph.” Obediently he goes over and raises the beautiful shell to his lips. He blows loud and clear. We all gather. Us, Piggy, who we helpfully lead over, and three littluns. Ralph hands to conch to Piggy who receives it gropingly.
“We got to go and get my specs. What Jack did was wrong. He came and stole them. I'm going to go to him and tell him. I’ll say he's stronger, he's got the tribe on his side and I'm just Piggy. He's got both his eyes and I'm mostly blind. But I’ll tell him this. He has to give me my specs back, not to be nice but since its what's right. I’ll fight him with words. Just words.” There is a new respect in Ralph’s eyes. He is appreciating Piggy’s true worth. We notice it too. Notice how Piggy, fat and blind and asthmatic is the one who seems to be able to see clearly. Notice how Ralph is tired to the bone and desperate to do something.
We discuss our plan. Then we go to get food to eat before we go on our campaign. We lead Piggy over to the decimated fruit trees and he feeds. We fill already butterfly filled bellies with food. Then in a foursome, Ralph in the lead then us guiding Piggy. In his fat hands is the shining conch, our symbol. The way we built our group. We are bringing it as a call to decency. The sands shift under our feet. We exchange glances but few words. When we could be marching to our graves there is no need to talk. To gather strength we let our weary eyes rest on the fragile, white shell.
The rock looms ahead of us. No one was surprised to see that the hunters have moved camp. Jack would want to erase memories of the murder of two nights ago. The pink rock is austere, forbidding. The tribe is up there. A mass of green and white and black. The paint that liberates them from shame. Freed from this they stare down easily at us. We tremble but Ralph stands his ground. It is a frightening spot, the one where we stand. The raging sea laps hungrily at the rock below us and one false step could be the difference between life and death. We huddle closer together and look up at the savages above. Piggy, afraid kneels down. Ralph blows the conch. A voice rings out. It is Roger's voice but not his face. It is the face of a savage. The British Roger has died and this is what he left behind.
“Who goes there?” Ralph is annoyed. The hunters are just boys playing at being soldiers. This challenge shows their childishness. Roger has one hand on some sort of log.
“You know who I am.” He calls back. “Where's Jack?”
“Hunting. He said not to let you in.” Cries the voice of Robert.
“We came for Piggy’s glasses.” Responds Ralph. “We want them back.”
“What do you want?” says a voice. We wheel round. Its Jack. We are trapped. To one direction is the tribe, on two is the sea, jumping would be suicide and on the other are Jack and two hunters. They put down the corpse they were carrying. Suddenly a stone whirs past us. We jump. Almost fall. Regain balance. Roger looks down as if on a hapless insect he were about to squash. Like a judgmental god. We shudder and look away.
“You stole Piggy’s glasses. He needs them. Give them back, thief.” Ralph says loudly. Jack tenses.
“What did you say?” he says in anger.
“Thief! You bloody thief.” Ralph yells. Jack lunges. He strikes out with his spear at Ralph who parries and returns to the blow. The fierce anger with which they attack with is staggering. They thrust and struggle. Now the positions are reversed. Jack stand with his back to the savages and Ralph with his back to the Island. Piggy shrilly calls out.
“Ralph.” He stands. The excited cheering for the fight stops. It becomes a boo. Piggy holds the conch so it sparkles in the sun. “I've got the conch.” A murmur passes through the crowd then dies on throats. He starts talking. “What are you going to do? You aren’t trying to be rescued. What if a ship comes? How long do you want to be here, until you die?” the boys murmur. Roger puts one hand down for more rocks. “I want my specs back. I can't see without them and it’s the decent thing to do. Don’t you want to be decent, to be rescued?” Another swell of talk goes through them. “This is the right thing to do. Do it for Simon who you murdered, for the littlun with the birthmark who was killed through carelessness. Their blood is on your hands. Do you want my blood also?” Jack is looking at Piggy calculatingly. He cries to his savages and they move closer.
“Tie them up.” He points to us. The tribe moves and shuffles. “Tie them up!” They move faster. With the same obedience that led to Simon’s death they feel our difference and become excited.
“I say-“
“-Let go.” They pay no attention. It only serves to whet their appetites. We lay, trussed. Looking up at Ralph and Jack and Piggy from between the feet of the tribe. We can see the foreign faces that once were the faces of our friends. Now they are our foes and to them we are like the desperate, helpless pigs they hunt.
“They obey me now.” Jack says proudly. Ralph’s temper which we could feel growing, snaps.
He screams at Jack, hidden behind his hair and paint.
“You, you.” He lunges toward us. Jack strikes at him. Ralph blocks. The fight is fiercer than before. We feel the ropes cutting into us. The fear of savagery rises in us. Ralph and Jack keep fighting, spinning, vicious blows. Piggy stands up. There is courage in him. He calls above the crowd.
“The conch!” Jack and Ralph spring apart. “I got the conch.” His voice echoes. “We need the conch! If we don’t work as a democracy then we’re all done for. Don’t you remember? Home? School? England?” the boys look uncertain. "Do you remember lighting the fire as a signal? You don't have a signal fire now. You cook your meat and then you eat it. You put the fire out and hope dies. You will never be rescued this way." Jack lets out his breath in a hiss. Roger strains with all his weight on the lever. The boulder rolls down. Ralph dodges. Piggy is struck and falls. He has no time to react. The thing bowls him over the side and smashes him onto the rocks far below. The conch is shattered. Star shaped pieces go flying in all directions. We can't see him from the ground. Another wave hits the rocks below. We look at Ralph’s face. There is fury rapidly taking control.
“What did you do?”
“Seize him!” As the tribe springs forward Ralph moves at Jack. Jack strikes him across the ribs with the spear. The tribe gets closer and Ralph races off with some of the tribe in pursuit. Jack calls a halt and stands over us. His eyes are angry.
“What do you know?”
“Nothing, we-“
“-Don’t know anything.” He prods us with his spear. We squeal. He senses it is going no where. From behind him Roger slips forward silently like a sinister shadow.
“Let me take over, chief.” He says. There is a light in his eyes. He smiles cruelly as he steps to a position above us. Our scream rings out over the water where somewhere Simon and Piggy’s murdered bodies lay, at the bottom of the clear, cold sea.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Paradise Defiled

Crashing down,
Like a bird for a landing,
A landing gone horribly wrong,
Silver wings riddled with bullet holes,
Fire twining from the sides,
Shattered glass,
Frightened faces,
And tears a fearsome scar into the jungle,
Wild and free,
A paradise defiled,
They scatter,
A blast slices the sky,
The calling of the conch,
Like a skillful tailor's thread,
It binds the torn into one once more,
A leader from the ashes,
Huts on the shore,
Built by all,
By five,
By two,
He hunts,
Like a tiger in a far off jungle,
Taints the woods with innocent blood,
Runs unchecked,
The fire spreads,
Fears come in it's wake,
The beast hunts it's prey,
It splinters,
A crack,
The tailor can't mend,
And Sin creeps into paradise.

Blog 9-After-Piggy's Journal

The morning light shines bright and clear. We spent the night shuddering and trying to come to terms with what happened last night. The word "Murder" echoes in my head again and again. Auntie always said that murderers where always caught. Ralph stirs beside me. He opens an eye. There is a cut on his face. He was there last night too. Now both of us are too ashamed to acknowledge what we know. He turns to me.
"Piggy?" I turn an inquisitive eye toward him. "What should we do? I mean, about Simon?" I stifle a feeling of guilt.
"What about him?" he looks pained. The guilt of what we did to the shy, quiet boy called Simon makes both of us awkward.
"You know, we murdered him." He pauses.
"Don't talk like that." I gesticulate wildly. "He brought it on himself. Coming like that out of the woods. Crawling. He was batty, bonkers." He looks almost reassured. But not fully. "I was only on the outside. The lightening, the rain, the thunder. We were scared." He looks blank and uncertain. There is a haunted, hunted look in his eyes.
"I don't know what I was." He laughs harshly. "What are we going to do?"
"Call a meeting?" I suggest. He chuckles in harsh amusement.
"And the mob would listen? Not on my life." I feel something in me reject his depression.
"You're still chief." His laughter gets louder. "Over us, I mean."
"And who is us?" He asks, stifling his bitter laughter.
"There's me, and some littluns."
"No one else?"
"Oh, Samneric." He sighs regretfully.
"How can we keep a fire going with so few people?" Just then Samneric come out of the wood carrying a big log for the fire. It is huge and draped with snapped creepers. They greet us cheerfully.
“Hello, we were just-“
“-Getting wood for the fire.” We nod; glad that at least some of the boys are still loyal.
“How are you?” They ask Ralph. He answers uncertainly.
"I don't really know." Eventually the conversation goes back to last night. The heat, the smothering heat feels like it still upon me. The way the phosphorescent animals surrounded Simon’s head like a halo lingers. It forces it's way into my conscious mind as a murmur of regret and shame.
The twins bear the obvious marks of having been at the dance yet they say that they left early. I understand. The dance isn’t the kind of thing that you want to admit even to yourself. I almost managed to convince myself that Ralph and I left the sinister party early before the dancing had begun. We keep working on the fire. Ralph hedges and avoids the subject of Simon whenever possible. I humor him and leave it out of the usual conversation loop. Guilt still washes over me in sickening waves. Simon, screaming and trying to defend himself from the pack. A pack that all of us were a part of. Even me, and Ralph.
Something in Ralph seems to have died last night. As we struggle to build up the fire I can see that he is starting to lose hope. If we lose Ralph there is no way to survive. If he goes to Jack then we have no one to protect us from the horrors of Jack’s godlike wrath. He has become an idol. He, for one, is beyond saving. Too far gone to be shown a reasonable way to live. After so much hard work I feel the twins beginning to cave in. They need rest and I can't do enough because of my asthma. Sam lays down.
“Why do we even got to keep the fire going? What's the good?” he complains. Ralph and I look and feel indignation.
“Sam! We need the fire to be rescued!” Ralph says firmly. Eric sits down next to his twin.
“Sam’s right. What is the point at all?” Ralph backs up his claims but his words are weak. Even to himself I think he knows that the island is winning. We allow the fire to go out for the night. I dream of home an school. Places where there is order and method and no Jack Merridew trying to kill a pig. The relief would be so immense. That’s all I want. Just a rest and to be home at last. Home and off this island. The stars shine through the cracks in the roof of leaves. Suddenly, a noise is heard outside. I sense Ralph's fear of it possibly being the beast. But the beast isn't real. It is only a part of our imagination. Ralph sits up. The noise comes again.
“Piggy, come out.” The voice says. Ralph shakily suggests the beast. The voice continues. Slowly, Ralph and I exit the hut. As we do so I have an asthma attack. I collapse panting. I wheeze and cough. I hear the sounds of a battle erupt all around. Ralph yelps in pain. Sam whimpers. Eric swears. And I hear footsteps coming toward me. I see the faint shape of Jack above me. He smiles maliciously. He reaches a hand down to my face and snatches my glasses off my nose. Then he disappears. I see the ghostly forms of Roger and Maurice. They go off. I can barely see beyond the end of my nose. With out my glasses I am almost as blind as a bat.
Ralph and Samneric come out. Eric has a bloody face, Sam is frightened and self-conscious. Ralph is walking strangely. From what they say it sounds like a stealth attack. They must have come suddenly. As they did they must have hoped to lure me out. Then they snatched my glasses and left. Leaving Ralph and Samneric to fight each other without knowing it. I don’t tell them this. As we look out after the retreating figures of the thieves I feel order slipping. They melt into the shadows at the edge of my limited vision.


The sun shines,
Scorches the bare skin of the boys,
Salty and tired,
They rush,
Busy like the ants,
A pile grows,
A deadened forest,
The sun shines,
Shines through the glasses outstretched,
Bright spots on the lenses,
Where there's smoke there's fire,
It grows,
Grasping for food,
The sun shines,
It gets bigger,
Feeding on hopes,
A barrier against the coming dark,
With in all,
A race,
Against time,
Against the all consuming flames,
Now ignited,
Like rockets they spread,
It twines,
Like vines,
Like life,
All around,
The island burns,
A two edged sword,
The sun shines,
On the,
Now, suddenly,

Monday, February 25, 2008

Blog 8- The Fear Realized-Simon's Journal

The thing in front of me spoke. Covered in flies and blood that trickled down from it's gaping mouth it was a horrible thing. Transfixed on a stick rammed into the hard ground it hung before me. "Foolish child." It said mockingly. "Run along and play with the others. I'm the beast." It leered at me. "Imagining the beast was something you could hunt or kill." It laughed, a ringing, terrible laugh. The leaves shuddered and trembled. I responded tremulously that I didn't understand. "Go on. Leave." It responded. "You're afraid, aren't you, boy?" I tremble. "You should go back. You don't want them to think that you're batty. They do, you know. I'll do you if you don't go. See, the beast is me. Be afraid, but you already are. Cowardly little boy."
I twitch in fear again. He goes on. "Go play with the others. Or I'll do you in. Go, run. And I'll forget this happened. If you don't run now, you don't want to know what will happen to you." He opens his mouth. I see the others within it. Ralph, Jack, Roger, all of them are in his mouth. I step back but his mouth keeps growing and growing. Either it is growing or I am growing smaller. The blackness is causing corruption all around me. It distorts the trees into sinister shadows. I feel fear consuming me. That must be what the beast is. Fear itself. The blackness makes me apart of it. Suddenly the blackness is in my head. I can feel one of my fits coming on. My condition makes me different and prefer being alone. The way that I tend to hallucinate has always made people look at me strangely.
As I lay, unconscious, I feel blood pour from my nose. It drags me painfully back into consciousness. I wake up again. Carefully, I wipe my nose with my hand. There is blood now all over my arm as well. I turn toward the head. It is still there, unspeaking. The realization I had while I was conversing with the monster is still with me. The beast is fear, the embodiment or our fear for the unknown. If this is true then the thing that they saw on the mountain is not the beast. The real beast is inside each of our hearts in the darkest place. I decide to stumble up the mountain to see what they must have seen.
I adopt a philosophical attitude. If there really is a beast up there, no, there can't be a beast. But if there was then I would die in the pursuit of knowledge. I stagger up the mountain moving blindly through the forest. My sense of direction is bad. I almost blunder into trees along the way but manage to avoid a collision. The mountain looms before me. The sky shines brassily overhead in a forbidding way. The clouds are gathering in grim battle formation. There will be a storm tonight. As I maneuver up I comfort myself with the realization that there is no beast. I stumble over a log. There are the marks of a stick on it. I tell myself that the marks look nothing like claw marks. The top of the mountain is before me all too soon. Something sits up on the top. Something with a human form. A speck of blue against the cloud is behind the figure. I move closer to investigate. As I do I am almost sick there and then. It is the form of a man. There is a parachute strapped to his back and it is tangled around the rocks. As the wind blows the parachute inflates and pulls the figure upright. A cloud of flies adorn this body like they do the Lord of the Flies. I am actually taken sick at this point. The beast and monster that we had envisioned was only the poor corpse of a man that couldn't rest. I grab the lines with my hands and master my revulsion. I tug and pull them free. The figure slumps again. Now he can rest and rot in peace without being blown up and down. I realize the reason that Ralph believed in this monster. He went up during the night when it was dark. He saw this fearful shape squatting by the fire like a symbol of extinguished hope when it was dark with his own ignorance and fear. I am looking at it in the light of knowledge. I was ready to die and wasn't afraid. Since I was able to look at it this way I could see what it truly is. I must tell the other boys. They must know the truth so they aren't afraid anymore. I look down the mountain. The fire near the platform is gone or out and now there is a fire near Castle Rock. They must have moved camp away from the beast. I heard a call to meeting a while ago but something wasn't right about it. The conch sounded badly blown. Ralph must be nervous. That must be why he is biting his nails. But he will be saved. If any of us get off here alive Ralph will be one of them. I am not as sure about myself. I am completely sure of this even though I don't know why. I try to walk down the mountain but to my surprise my legs aren't working so well. They quake and twitch. My legs buckle. Instead of a run to sooner end the fear I can only manage a crawl. My own nervous fears must have made me tired.
Navigating through the trees I feel strangely calm. I can tell that once the boys know about this then they will cease to be afraid. It will help Ralph deal with Jack. Piggy will make it clear to the littluns. I don't think that Piggy ever really believed in the beast. I think he steadfastly held top his beliefs in the falseness of the monster. He is wise, Piggy is. I put thoughts out of my mind and look up at the darkened sky. The air is as tense as the skin of a drum. It is filled with tension. The clouds let loose the thunder and lightening. A blue bolt crashes from the sky, a jagged, frightening scar across the inky blackness. A little rain begins. I hear a scream and a rhythmic chanting. Jack and his hunters are here as well.
"Kill the beast, Cut his throat, Spill his blood." It goes on and on. This madness must stop. I hurry even more. When I stop it then no one will think of abandoning the conch. That is what allows the beast to get them. It doesn't lurk in the forest it lurks in their hearts. Jack is standing right on the edge. Tonight will decide it. He will have to see and take a few steps back. I hope. Someone screams even louder as I stumble from the forest. They yell.
"It's the beast!" The nonsense must stop now. I cry out also.
"The beast isn't real. It was a dead man on the hill, a dead parachutist!" The circle surges. Moves. Wraps around me. I can see war paint. I realize with horror that it is too late. I keep trying though. Another strip of lightening comes down. I see Jack illuminated ghoulishly in the glare. He yells.
"It's the beast! Kill it." I keep screaming for my life as the boys close tighter. The pack. I have seen dog fights, wild , savage. The pack jumps whoever loses. Except these boys make them seem civilized. They jump on me now, still chanting. The abominable rhythm goes on and on. The boys attack fiercely, with teeth and claws and spears. I see Piggy and Ralph at the back of the circle. I break free, bleeding from 10 different places and stagger down the beach. I topple like a child's toy over a small cliff. As one the pack surges down. The last thing I know I see Jack's painted, savage figure over me with a flashing knife in which the lightening is reflected and I feel the ocean waves at my back and the sand beneath me. The world zooms back like a tunnel as the water laps at me.

Saturday, February 23, 2008

The Beast

He squats,
Huddled by the dying fire,
Parachute flapping,
Dead eyes staring,
A dead face looking down the mountain,
A dead body being pulled at by the wind,
A broken link to a world far away,
The boys come up the mountain,
On guard,
Looking for the monster,
The monster unreal,
Three becomes one,
He continues,
Openly cocky yet inwardly afraid,
The others wait in dread silence,
He sees,
Stares into blank eyes,
And, through the darkness of ignorance and blind fear,
Creates a beast from the once person,
The others follow,
Race down after,
To spread the word of an unreal monster,
Who is tugged and roughened,
By the shifting,
Sea winds.

Friday, February 22, 2008

Essay 1-If there was a girl on the Island

In the book a plane carrying a group of schoolboys ranging in ages from 5 or 6 to 12 is shot down. They land on the island. The pilot is killed and the boys are alone. They begin with a democracy but conflicting interests and fears cause it to collapse.
A Single Girl-
A girl on the island probably would have been a beneficial thing. A girl would have been more likely to be calmer and likely to become a central figure in the island politics. As a woman she would be likely to take the place of a mother to the Littluns and therefore keep them from the fears that lead them to abandon the conch. If this girl was an older girl she would be able to use her place as a mother to them to logically point out the best course of action. She would have provided a check since girls are less prone to the urges of Thanatos as displayed by Jack and Roger. She would have potentially realized Piggy's potential leading to a greater acceptance of the boy in question. Had that happened the group might not have failed.
The Pig-
The only female encountered on the island met a violent and gruesome end. Her demise was like a rape and murder. The possible trouble for the girl would be the chance that the boys could repeat the crimes. If her influence failed and she was unable to provide a voice of rationality the boys might turn on her and, filled with a combination of Thanatos and the Id, attack her. However, someone who could recognize Piggy, dispel the Littluns' fears and provide some morality would be beneficial.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

More Symbols

There is religious symbolism in Lord of the Flies. Some claim that Simon comes to represent Jesus. The way he is willing to help the littuns and go back through the dark forest to help them shows his kind mentality. Also his meeting with the Lord of the Flies is like in the Bible how Jesus is in the wilderness when he is tested by the devil. In addition what happens to Simon is symbolic.

The stick sharpened at both ends is like the proverbial "double edged sword". It means danger from two places at once. It also shows that the very thing/people that help you, like Jack, can turn on you and hurt you. This will be shown later as this symbol becomes prominent.

One of the other examples of religious symbolism in The Lord of the Flies is the island. The island represents the Garden of Eden or Paradise. It is a perfect world where food is easy to get and plentiful. It is a perfect world until the boys come. The crash and the collapse represents Original Sin.
The Lord of the Flies is a symbol also. The Lord of the Flies is a pig's head that Jack left as a sacrifice to the Beast. The pig was murdered in a way similar to rape. The murder takes place in Simon's clearing, the clearing even more so than the island is symbolic of the Garden of Eden. The killing of an innocent is like Original Sin. While Simon is looking at the head he imagines it is talking to him. It is referred to as the Lord of the Flies because of the flies buzzing around it. The way Simon encounters it is like in the Bible where Jesus is in the wilderness and is tempted by the Devil. The Lord of the Flies is a symbol for the Devil. He reveals the truth to Simon leading to *****'* *****. The Lord of the Flies is also a symbol for how fear corrupts and changes.
The huts that the boys built on the beach are like a barometer for hope of rescue. In this they are like the Signal Fire. But the huts are also a symbol for caring for the weak and helpless since these would help the littluns. There are three huts. The first one was built by everyone, the second by about six people and the third was built by Ralph and Simon. The two who built the last hut are the two who are the most active in helping the littluns and this shows their compassion. The Chant
To read about the Chant go to

Piggy's Hair

There are many more symbols in this book. I might post about others later.