I am at a loss to explain how I made it through my secondary schooling without having Lord of the Flies handed to me by a single English teacher. Perhaps they all assumed I had read it? There does indeed seem to be a sort of automatic reverence for this novel, with its ability to lift the curtain on the ‘darkness of man’s heart’. My central criterion, therefore, from the moment I turned the first page, was ‘How well does Golding convince me of his scenario?’ In other words, how completely does he maintain the realism necessary to generalise his ‘moral’ to all men, everywhere? The answer: I am almost convinced.

I say ‘almost’ for a reason. From the moment Golding’s characters are introduced, they have the feel of stereotypes. Ralph the rebellious and daring protagonist, Piggy the overweight, visually impaired, asthmatic nerd who eats ‘ever so many sweets’, (a line that Golding’s editor should have scratched without a moment’s hesitation,) and, of course, Jack, the bombastic prefect. As the novel progresses and the characters become more familiar, the authenticity does improve, but there are still occasional moments where Golding oversteps and pulls free from realism rather than leading it along gently; for example, Ralph’s inability to remember the importance of the fire. To compound this, the writing has inevitably dated. Readers of fifty years ago might not have batted an eyelid at the bigoted similarities between Golding’s savages and the Native American peoples, but the readers of today certainly will.

That said, the quality of the writing is generally very high. Golding’s evocation of the island in all its humours is particularly skilful, as are his breadth of symbols and his subtle replacing of names to indicate the boys’ changing attitudes. His depiction of group psychology, though overly blunt at times, is interesting, and his exploration of the nature of power, in all its capriciousness and fragility, is a definite highlight. Between this richness and the reasonably brisk pace, Lord of the Flies might almost be called a gripping and absorbing read.

So, considering that this novel is almost convincing and almost a page-turner, I might almost recommend it. Almost. ( )

A all time favorite. One of my first major reads! Excellent look in to the unraveling of the society they think they are. ( )

Very interesting one.... to teach in school.
A touching story of a bunch of kids on an island; the art of writing - creating a new world for these kids, where they are the leaders, the warriors and their own enemies as well. Every single word used makes this story believable.... a fascinating one. ( )

i found this book scary. The very possibility of the anarchy , outright sadism that may be inherent in all of us and only needs a little spark to surface -- is completely agreeable. One tends to even recognise or agree with one or more of the actions of the boys and consider it as correct ( )

How many times can a bunch of kids get stuck on an island, and everything goes right? Well, hey, it might happen every day, but would that really be interesting reading? "Tommy said to Steve, 'Hey, let's start an ideal society that actually WORKS.' Steve said, 'Okay,' and they did, and it did!" Yawn.

While some don't consider Flies to be Golding's best work, it is quite possibly his more renown. Additionally, it opened up the door for all manner of children to have all manner of trial upon all manner of islands. Have you ever read Battle Royale, for example?

Flies is about a bunch of schoolboys who somehow survive a plane crash. They are left without any adult supervision, so they must form a society until help arrives. After all, they're British.

But, everything is not all roses and puppy's breath. Schisms form, parties separate, and the fate of the free world (on the island) is like a Frisbee being pulled by two very playful dogs.

The heroes of the novel must contend with the hunters (formerly choirboys), and provide their youthful society with necessities: food, shelter, clothing. The island gives them fruit, but the hunters give them meat.

I'm sure that if you were forced to read this book in high school, you probably hate it, and probably think, "why didn't we just watch the movie in which they reference Alf?" Well, if that's you, I recommend you willfully go back and reread the book, when there's no expectation that you have to write an essay on how Simon was Jesus or Jack was Satan or Piggy was Buddha, or any other such gobbledygook. Then, see if you still had to "suffer through it," as many of our high school-aged children seem to be doing these days.

However, if you're not one of those poor, unfortunate souls whose vile teachers crammed literature down their throats and expected t hem to regurgitate it back onto a piece of paper come test time, I recommend you too pick this book up and read it. It'll probably get you thinking twice about the stability of any form of order. And will make you glad you're not a British schoolboy trapped on an island with your peers.

If you are a British schoolboy trapped on an island with your peers, either start building that fire, or start sharpening that spear. If you have an embarrassing nickname, lose it. If you have an embarrassing affliction, hide it. And for goodness sake, start acting like a man! ( )