Since the dawn of Man, we have learned how to kill. From the primitive Neanderthals who learned the power of weaponry, to the ancient Romans who created huge coliseums to watch a brave warrior be consumed alive by lions, we have always watched death and felt its taste. Our world is vicarious; it’s sad but is the blatant truth. Now I’m sure if you said this to any person on the street, they would turn away in disgust. No one likes to be told that inside them are primeval instincts waiting to be unleashed, that cold-blooded murderer exists within their soul held back by law and authority. But this is where Lord of the Flies opens that bridge. It reveals a nature man has questioned he has. It awakens us to a truth, that truth of our murderous and vicarious spirit.
Lord of the Flies is a different kind of allegory. It does not create a diminution of specific events or people, representing them in a smaller scale. It is meant to be a symbol for all of society, past, present and future. But where does it show this allegoric nature? Well, let us first look at Lord of the Flies. The story occurs on this small deserted island, where a group of British school boys have found themselves isolated from the rest of the world. Their plane has been shot down, leaving them stranded without authority, rules or adults. They are left to form their own society, where they must build there own government and rules. Slowly this is what occurs. The children follow the guidance of a boy named Ralph, learning to work together. But there is another presence, one which the children must battle with, an evil inside them all. It’s addressed as the Lord of the Flies the translation for the Hebrew Devil, Beelzebub. One of the children, Jack, follows under Ralph, but slowly loses interest, concentrating more slowly on death, bloodlust, and killing. Hunting constantly, the society begins to fail as Jack turns more of the boys against Ralph, realizing that he does not have to take orders from...