Dialectical Journal For Lord Of The Flies Chapter 8

By coating their faces in mud and the blood of the butchered sow, they are able to adopt new personas that complete a transformation of civilized children to cold-blooded killers. They soon become the respected and feared members of the island and Ralph and his tribe understand “the liberation into savagery that the concealing paint [brings]” (Golding 199). Even the naïve and timid boys of Ralph’s faction comprehend that by the tribe painting their faces, they become killers without morals. This

The soldiers who were rotated to be in the trenches were miserable. They would be in holes about twelve feet deep and a few hundred miles long with hundreds of men crammed in with them. There would be sickness and decay all around them, the trenches were infested with rats who ate everything including the amputated limbs of lost comrades. “ ...The Western Front did witness two terrible years of immobility and useless carnage” These men lived through the torture of witnessing war first hand, they watched as their fellow comrades were blown to bits by mortar shells. While living in these awful conditions they had an easy opportunity to get the infection “trench foot,” in which the feet of the soldiers would be infected and usually amputated.

The effects of the setting on Wiesel are reflected in the way he ends book, talking about how he is essentially dead now. The look in Wiesel’s eyes as he gazed at himself in the mirror never left him (Wiesel, __) because he was so malnutritioned that he literally looked like a corpse. When he saw himself, he was so surprised that that image has stuck with him. In fact, they were so starved that their “first act as free men was to throw [themselves] onto the provisions ... no thought of revenge, or of parents. Only of bread” (Wiesel, 115?).

that day he smelled like dead bird all afternoon, living sin, reds and purples staining the open bleeding nest as if unmixed, straight from the tube. Insert chipped blade of jack-knife here. Insert feel of the flesh— how he cuts even himself. Wound boy. Boy pharaoh.

The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, progress and termination of the disease, were the incidents of half an hour. But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and

The significance of the closing scene is depicted through the solidification of the immature mindsets that the boys still obtain. Amidst the cacophony of ululation cries and rustling branches, Ralph is being hunted by Jack’s clan of boys that face moral degradation as their savage games progressively grow malicious after the death of both Piggy and Simon. In pursuit of Ralph, Jack and his hunters set the forest a flame in order to narrow Ralph’ ability to escape. The fire in turn attracts the attention of a naval ship, inciting the crew to land on the island as Ralph is running away from Jack. Once all the boys reach the beach, they encounter the adults that now take precedence as the authoritative figures on the island.

It went straight through my waist and I had stopped the bleeding. So why do I feel like I’m dying? I try to sit up, but my body only responses with a groan of displeasure. Great, I can’t even move without my insides screaming at me. A guy is suddenly in front of me, his features blurry, and I try to scramble away.

His hoarse gasps for oxygen, distinct against the background of gunfire. Time seemed to slow down as he collapsed onto all fours, foaming green froth from the corners of his mouth as he was coughing and spitting a pool of blood, dirt and saliva. He lifted his head to make a final attempted to stand up and get to safety but his body could take no more and he slumped backward face up into the dirt. His eyes wide open, with the look of agony etched across his

I closed my eyes slowly. Blackness. “Life’s hard being a soldier, ain’t ?” I woke up to the sound of a scruffy voice asking me a question. My head throbbed and it was painful to open my eyelids. I inhaled and immediately started coughing.

The constant sound of shooting guns and cannon fire would ring in your ear, as you can hear excruciating shouting of wounded and hurt soldiers or the undaunted attackers sometimes cheering or often laughing diverged into a background haze. Slowly the lice would breed on men, and could not be washed off completely because the little microscopic eggs would nestle in seams and aligning’s of the soldiers clothing. Also, artillery shells would crash repeatedly into the trenches, multiple men you would see suffered from shell shock. I hope the war ends soon. This war is the greatest evil that has been created to corrupt our souls.