wgolding.lordoftheflies-第4部分

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land　we　occupy　must　always　be　a　fortress　on　which　enchanted　hunters　pursue　the　beast。　There　is　no　rescue。　The　making　of　history　and　the　making　of　myth　are　finally　the　selfsame　process…an　old　process　in　which　the　soul　makes　its　own　place；　its　own　reality。
　In　spite　of　its　rich　and　varied　metaphor　Lord　of　the　Flies　is　not　a　bookish　fable；　and　Golding　has　warned　that　he　will　concede　little　or　nothing　to　The　Golden　Bough。16　There　are　real　dangers　in　ignoring　this　disclaimer。　To　do　so　obscures　the　contemporary　relevance　of　his　art　and　its　experiential　sources。　During　the　period　of　World　War　II　he　observed　first　hand　the　expenditure　of　human　ingenuity　in　the　old　ritual　of　war。　As　the　illusions　of　his　early　rationalism　and　humanism　fell　away；　new　images　emerged；　and；　as　for　Simon；　a　picture　of　〃a　human　at　once　heroic　and　sick〃　formed　in　his　mind。　When　the　war　ended；　Golding　was　ready　to　write　（as　he　had　not　been　before）；　and　it　was　natural　to　find　in　the　traditions　he　knew　the　metaphors　which　could　define　the　continuity　of　the　soul's　flaws。　In　one　sense；　the　〃fable〃　was　already　written。　One　had　but　to　trace　over　the　words　upon　the　scroll17　and　so　collaborate　with　history。
　
　16。See　Golding's　reply　to　Professor　Kermode　in　〃The　Meaning　of　It　All；〃　p。　199　in　this　volume。
　17。In　a　letter　to　me　（September；　1962）　Professor　Frank　Kermode　recalls　Golding's　remark　to　the　effect　that　he　was　〃tracing　words　already　on　the　paper〃　during　the　writing　of　Lord　of　the　Flies。
　
　For　my　mother　and　father
　CHAPTER　ONE
　The　Sound　of　the　Shell
　
　The　boy　with　fair　hair　lowered　himself　down　the　last　few　feet　of　rock　and　began　to　pick　his　way　toward　the　lagoon。　Though　he　had　taken　off　his　school　sweater　and　trailed　it　now　from　one　hand；　his　grey　shirt　stuck　to　him　and　his　hair　was　plastered　to　his　forehead。　All　round　him　the　long　scar　smashed　into　the　jungle　was　a　bath　of　heat。　He　was　clambering　heavily　among　the　creepers　and　broken　trunks　when　a　bird；　a　vision　of　red　and　yellow；　flashed　upwards　with　a　witch…like　cry；　and　this　cry　was　echoed　by　another。
　〃Hi！〃　it　said。　〃Wait　a　minute！〃
　The　undergrowth　at　the　side　of　the　scar　was　shaken　and　a　multitude　of　raindrops　fell　pattering。
　〃Wait　a　minute；〃　the　voice　said。　'　I　got　caught　up。〃
　The　fair　boy　stopped　and　jerked　his　stockings　with　an　automatic　gesture　that　made　the　jungle　seem　for　a　moment　like　the　Home　Counties。
　The　voice　spoke　again。
　〃I　can't　hardly　move　with　all　these　creeper　things。〃
　The　owner　of　the　voice　came　backing　out　of　the　undergrowth　so　that　twigs　scratched　on　a　greasy　wind…breaker。　The　naked　crooks　of　his　knees　were　plump；　caught　and　scratched　by　thorns。　He　bent　down；　removed　the　thorns　carefully；　and　turned　round。　He　was　shorter　than　the　fair　boy　and　very　fat。　He　came　forward；　searching　out　safe　lodgments　for　his　feet；　and　then　looked　up　through　thick　spectacles。
　〃Where's　the　man　with　the　megaphone？〃
　The　fair　boy　shook　his　head。
　〃This　is　an　island。　At　least　I　think　it's　an　island。　That's　a　reef　out　in　the　sea。　Perhaps　there　aren't　any　grownups　anywhere。〃
　The　fat　boy　looked　startled。
　'There　was　that　pilot。　But　he　wasn't　in　the　passenger　cabin；　he　was　up　in　front。〃
　The　fair　boy　was　peering　at　the　reef　through　screwed…up　eyes。
　〃All　them　other　lads；〃　the　fat　boy　went　on。　〃Some　of　them　must　have　got　out。　They　must　have；　mustn't　they？〃
　The　fair　boy　began　to　pick　his　way　as　casually　as　possible　toward　the　water。　He　tried　to　be　offhand　and　not　too　obviously　uninterested；　but　the　fat　boy　hurried　after　him。
　〃Aren't　there　any　grownups　at　all？〃
　〃I　don't　think　so。〃
　The　fair　boy　said　this　solemnly；　but　then　the　delight　of　a　realized　ambition　overcame　him。　In　the　middle　of　the　scar　he　stood　on　his　head　and　grinned　at　the　reversed　fat　boy。
　〃No　grownups！〃
　The　fat　boy　thought　for　a　moment。
　〃That　pilot。〃
　The　fair　boy　allowed　his　feet　to　e　down　and　sat　on　the　steamy　earth。
　〃He　must　have　flown　off　after　he　dropped　us。　He　couldn't　land　here。　Not　in　a　plane　with　wheels。〃
　〃We　was　attacked！〃
　〃He'll　be　back　all　right。〃
　The　fat　boy　shook　his　head。
　〃When　we　was　ing　down　I　looked　through　one　of　them　windows。　I　saw　the　other　part　of　the　plane。　There　were　flames　ing　out　of　it。〃
　He　looked　up　and　down　the　scar。
　〃And　this　is　what　the　cabin　done。〃
　The　fair　boy　reached　out　and　touched　the　jagged　end　of　a　trunk。　For　a　moment　he　looked　interested。
　〃What　happened　to　it？〃　he　asked。　〃Where's　it　got　to　now？〃
　〃That　storm　dragged　it　out　to　sea。　It　wasn't　half　dangerous　with　all　them　tree　trunks　falling。　There　must　have　been　some　kids　still　in　it。〃
　He　hesitated　for　a　moment；　then　spoke　again。
　〃What's　your　name？〃
　〃Ralph。〃
　The　fat　boy　waited　to　be　asked　his　name　in　turn　but　this　proffer　of　acquaintance　was　not　made；　the　fair　boy　called　Ralph　smiled　vaguely；　stood　up；　and　began　to　make　las　way　once　more　toward　the　lagoon。　The　fat　boy　hung　steadily　at　his　shoulder。
　〃I　expect　there's　a　lot　more　of　us　scattered　about。　You　haven't　seen　any　others；　have　you？〃
　Ralph　shook　his　head　and　increased　his　speed。　Then　he　tripped　over　a　branch　and　came　down　with　a　crash。
　The　fat　boy　stood　by　him；　breathing　hard。
　〃My　auntie　told　me　not　to　run；〃　he　explained；　〃on　account　of　my　asthma。〃
　〃Ass…mar？〃
　〃That's　right。　Can't　catch　me　breath。　I　was　the　only　boy　in　our　school　what　had　asthma；〃　said　the　fat　boy　with　a　touch　of　pride。　〃And　I've　been　wearing　specs　since　I　was　three。〃
　He　took　off　his　glasses　and　held　them　out　to　Ralph；　blinking　and　smiling；　and　then　started　to　wipe　them　against　his　grubby　wind…breaker。　An　expression　of　pain　and　inward　concentration　altered　the　pale　contours　of　his　face。　He　smeared　the　sweat　from　his　cheeks　and　quickly　adjusted　the　spectacles　on　his　nose。
　〃Them　fruit。〃
　He　glanced　round　the　scar。
　〃Them　fruit；〃　he　said；　〃I　expect…〃
　He　put　on　his　glasses；　waded　away　from　Ralph；　and　crouched　down　among　the　tangled　foliage。
　〃Ill　be　out　again　in　just　a　minute…〃
　Ralph　disentangled　himself　cautiously　and　stole　away　through　the　branches。　In　a　few　seconds　the　fat　boy's　grunts　were　behind　him　and　he　was　hurrying　toward　the　screen　that　still　lay　between　him　and　the　lagoon。　He　climbed　over　a　broken　trunk　and　was　out　of　the　jungle。
　The　shore　was　fledged　with　palm　trees。　These　stood　or　leaned　or　reclined　against　the　light　and　their　green　feathers　were　a　hundred　feet　up　in　the　air。　The　ground　beneath　them　was　a　bank　covered　with　coarse　grass；　torn　everywhere　by　the　upheavals　of　fallen　trees；　scattered　with　decaying　coconuts　and　palm　saplings。　Behind　this　was　the　darkness　of　the　forest　proper　and　the　open　space　of　the　scar。　Ralph　stood；　one　hand　against　a　grey　trunk；　and　screwed　up　his　eyes　against　the　shimmering　water。　Out　there；　perhaps　a　mile　away；　the　white　surf　flinked　on　a　coral　reef；　and　beyond　that　the　open　sea　was　dark　blue。　Within　the　irregular　arc　of　coral　the　lagoon　was　still　as　a　mountain　lake…blue　of　all　shades　and　shadowy　green　and　purple。　The　beach　between　the　palm　terrace　and　the　water　was　a　thin　stick；　endless　apparently；　for　to　Ralph's　left　the　perspectives　of　palm　and　beach　and　water　drew　to　a　point　at　infinity；　and　always；　almost　visible；　was　the　heat。
　He　jumped　down　from　the　terrace。　The　sand　was　thick　over　his　black　shoes　and　the　heat　hit　him。　He　became　conscious　of　the　weight　of　clothes；　kicked　his　shoes　off　fiercely　and　ripped　off　each　stocking　with　its　elastic　garter　in　a　single　movement　Then　he　leapt　back　on　the　terrace；　pulled　off　his　shirt；　and　stood　there　among　the　skull…like　coconuts　with　green　shadows　from　the　palms　and　the　forest　sliding　over　his　skin。　He　undid　the　snake…clasp　of　his　belt；　lugged　off　his　shorts　and　pants；　and　stood　there　naked；　looking　at　the　dazzling　beach　and　the　water。
　He　was　old　enough；　twelve　years　and　a　few　months；　to　have　lost　the　prominent　tummy　of　childhood；　and　not　yet　old　enough　for　adolescence　to　have　made　him　awkward。　You　could　see　now　that　he　might　make　a　boxer；　as　far　as　width　and　heaviness　of　shoulders　went；　but　there　was　a　mildness　about　his　mouth　and　eyes　that　proclaimed　no　devil。　He　patted　the　palm　trunk　softly；　and；　forced　at　last　to　believe　in　the　reality　of　the　island；　laughed　delightedly　again　and　stood　on　his　head。　He　turned　neatly　on　to　his　feet；　jumped　down　to　the　beach；　knelt　and　swept　a　double　armful　of　sand　into　a　pile　against　his　chest。　Then　he　sat　back　and　looked　at　the　water　with　bright；　excited　eyes。
　〃Ralph…〃
　The　fat　boy　lowered　himself　over　the　terrace　and　sat　down　carefully；　using　the　edge　as　a　seat。
　〃I'm　sorry　I　been　such　a　time。　Them　fruit…〃
　He　wiped　his　glasses　and　adjusted　them　on　his　button　nose。　The　frame　had　made　a　deep；　pink　〃V〃　on　the　bridge。　He　looked　critically　at　Ralph's　golden　body　and　then　down　at　his　own　clothes。　He　laid　a　hand　on　the　end　of　a　zipper　that　extended　down　his　chest。
　〃My　auntie…〃
　Then　he　opened　the　zipper　with　decision　and　pulled　the　whole　wind…breaker　over　his　head。
　〃There！〃
　Ralph　looked　at　him　sidelong　and　said　nothing。
　〃I　expect　we'll　want　to　know　all　their　names；〃　said　the　fat　boy；　〃and　make　a　list。　We　ought　to　have　a　meeting。〃
　Ralph　did　not　take　the　hint　so　the　fat　boy　was　forced　to　continue。
　〃I　don't　care　what　they　call　me；〃　he　said　confidentially；　〃so　long　as　they　don't　call　me　what　they　used　to　call　me　at　school。'
　Ralph　was　faintly　interested。
　〃What　was　that？〃
　The　fat　boy　glanced　over　his　shoulder；　then　leaned　toward　Ralph。
　He　whispered。
　〃They　used　to　call　me　'Piggy。'　〃
　Ralph　shrieked　with　laughter。　He　jumped　up。
　〃Piggy！　Piggy！〃
　〃Ralph…please！〃
　Piggy　clasped　his　hands　in　apprehension。
　〃I　said　I　didn't　want…〃
　〃Piggy！　Piggy！〃
　Ralph　danced　out　into　the　hot　air　of　the　beach　and　then　returned　as　a　fighter…plane；　with　wings　swept　back；　and　machine…gunned　Piggy。
　〃Sche…aa…ow！〃
　He　dived　in　the　sand　at　Piggy's　feet　and　lay　there　laughing。
　〃Piggy！〃
　Piggy　grinned　reluctantly；　pleased　despite　himself　at　even　this　much　recognition。
　〃So　long　as　you　don't　tell　the　others…〃
　Ralph　giggled　into　the　sand。　The　expression　of　pain　and　concentration　returned　to　Piggy's　face。
　〃Half　a　sec'。〃
　He　hastened　back　into　the　forest。　Ralph　stood　up　and　trotted　along　to　the　right。
　Here　the　beach　was　interrupted　abruptly　by　the　square　motif　of　the　landscape；　a　great　platform　of　pink　granite　thrust　up　unpromisingly　through　forest　and　terrace　and　sand　and　lagoon　to　make　a　raised　jetty　four　feet　high。　The　top　of　this　was　covered　with　a　thin　layer　of　soil　and　coarse　grass　and　shaded　with　young　palm　trees。　There　was　not　enough　soil　for　them　to　grow　to　any　height　and　when　they　reached　perhaps　twenty　feet　they　fell　and　dried；　forming　a　criss…cross　pattern　of　trunks；　very　convenient　to　sit　on。　The　palms　that　still　stood　made　a　green　roof；　covered　on　the　underside　with　a　quivering　tangle　of　reflections　from　the　lagoon。　Ralph　hauled　himself　onto　this　platform；　noted　the　coolness　and　shade；　shut　one　eye；　ana　decided　that　the　shadows　on　his　body　were　really　green。　He　picked　his　way　to　the　seaward　edge　of　the　platform　and　stood　looking　down　into　the　water。　It　was　clear　to　the　bottom　and　bright　with　the　efflorescence　of　tropical　weed　and　coral。　A　school　of　tiny；　glittering　fish　flicked　hither　and　thither。　Ralph　spoke　to　himself；　sounding　th