Lamron Lit Corner: The Fight to be Lord of the Flies
“He forgot his wounds, his hunger and thirst, and became fear; hopeless fear.”
~William Golding, Lord of the Flies
Horror exists in a purgatory of literature, the intimate and tiny space between literary fiction and genre fiction. For many, horror borrows too many fantastical or make-believe elements to be considered literary, while others find that the genre fits perfectly within the literary canon. It does, in any case, work to envelop the reader and change the way they look at the world. The debate is a long standing one, and one that will likely not have a clear answer for some time.
Luckily, though, novels like Lord of the Flies act to bridge the gap between literary and genre fiction, coming together to form something more powerful than either alone.
Many were likely first exposed to this book in high school. I, for one, first read it in my sophomore year of high school. It was absolutely one of the first classic books that made me interested in literature. Up until that point, as I’m sure many can relate, I had stuck to stories like The Hunger Games and Percy Jackson—the stories that felt like they really related to us as young adults. That’s where the first piece of horrific beauty in Lord of the Flies comes in, as the story is about young adults—kids, even.
If you haven’t read the story, as it unfortunately has become one of the many novels being banned in public schools, the story follows a group of young boys stranded on an island after their plane was shot down. They’ve all survived, yet there is not a single adult present. Golding follows them as they grow to create cliques and alliances, devolving quickly as their time on the island increases.
Now, obviously, it’s very likely that you’ve heard this kind of story before. Lost, Gilligan’s Island… Heck, even SpongeBob did a spoof episode with their own magic conch shell. Golding didn’t even really coin the idea, as stories came before it like Robison Crusoe, Gulliver’s Travels, and Treasure Island. Actually, Golding directly cited Treasure Island as a source of inspiration, but not in a positive way. Golding recalled being upset by how the book portrayed the situation of young boys being stranded and set out in Lord of the Flies to show what it would really be like.
It’s safe to say that Golding succeeded. At this point, I’m going to start discussing spoilers, so if you haven’t read the story I’d recommend skipping down to the last paragraph. For those lucky ones who have read it, let’s talk about that ending.
As I said previously, the novel did completely entrance me back in high school. However, the ending was one that really let me down. When the boys are on the very edge of sanity, burning the whole island to the ground in a fit of rage and murder, I felt at the time as though them being saved was a letdown. It didn’t feel to me that the characters, even the most morally good ones, had earned salvation.
That was until I read the forward by Stephen King in the newest edition of the book (the Penguin Deluxe Classics) in which he quotes Golding’s reason for the ending. Golding writes:
“The adults save the children… but who will save the adults?”
Every time I hear this quote, I get goosebumps, as it feels to me like the conclusion and theme that was hard to see without it being said. I’d even go as far as to say this quote should have been the last line of the novel, but that’s neither here nor there. Either way, it’s clear in this quote that Golding was revealing more about the world than simply our barbaric nature. Written just as World War II ended, Golding wanted the world to understand just how little there was to rely on. The answer to his question is, no one. There is nobody else to trust except ourselves, and this revelation comes to us just after Golding described in horrific detail how flawed we are. When we look in the mirror, can we trust ourselves with the power we all hold?
Horror is more than just fear of the outside world; our greatest fear is what lies within.