Martin Chilton has recently written an interesting article
in the Telegraph on ‘depressing
books’ and on his list of the ’20 great depressing reads’ is William Golding’s Lord of the Flies. I should point out
that Chilton is advocating the enjoyment, and even benefits, of reading bleak
novels, and indeed, on reading through his list, there are some immensely dark
but brilliant tales; Cormac McCarthy’s post-apocalyptic The Road and Kafka’s The
Trial, for instance. And these books, as much as I’m a fan of both, really
are bleak. McCarthy’s is a terrifying vision of the future, written in
beautiful but sparse prose, and relentlessly haunting and harrowing. Kafka’s
novel is both dizzying and frustrating in its portrayal of a man who is
helpless in the face of persecution (for an unspecified crime) from an
oppressive and unknown organisation.
Of course,
when you really think about Lord of the
Flies, it is, on the surface, rather depressing. Two children are murdered
by their peers; one child is beaten as punishment (Wilfred); and a third murder
is only averted by the arrival of an adult. The arrival of this adult, the
Naval Officer, does not represent a happy ending however. It is at this moment
that Golding’s allegory of war is fully realised. As the Naval Officer gazes
out to sea at his cruiser, we see that the adults are no better than the
children; they are engaged in their own war which will produce even more
destruction.
But, as the
narrative unfolds in Lord of the Flies,
things never really feel bleak and utterly hopeless, as perhaps they do in The Trial. The novel is exhilarating
– the final chase of Ralph across the island an excellent example of this
– and the unfolding events are so engrossing that the book often doesn’t allow
the reader to even catch their breath. I asked the members of our Facebook page
if they thought Lord of the Flies was
a ‘depressing novel’ and the responses were very interesting. Kasia felt that
it ‘gives hope that you can protect your beliefs to the end’ and Nikitash
thought that Golding’s choice to ‘frame’ the ‘depressing themes in the boundary
of a children’s story brings a balance between exhilaration and depression’.
Chilton is
right to include Lord of the Flies in
his list and it is certainly in esteemed company. And when society begins to
break down on the island, I do feel depressed and sad for the boys
– particularly Simon, Piggy and Ralph. But the strength of Golding’s
narrative and the sheer force of his imagination doesn’t allow us to dwell on
this while reading the book. It is only after we’ve finished, and the cries of
the characters are still echoing in our minds, that we truly realise the impact
and importance of this masterpiece of literature.