law and order Flashcards
“The fire’s the most important thing”
Ralph’s repeated insistence that ‘the fire’s the most important thing’ symbolises his commitment to rescue, civilisation, and long-term thinking. The use of the superlative ‘most important’ reflects his desperate prioritisation of hope and structure which contrasts with the other boys’ descent into savagery. The ‘fire’ becomes a motif for both salvation and failure; when it dies, it reflects the dying values of order and logic.
“We’ve got to have rules and obey them. After all, we’re not savages.”
Ralph’s logical tone and use of ‘we’ creates a sense of unity and democratic hope. The declarative statement highlights his faith in civilisation and structure, even though there are some cracks starting to show. Also, the juxtaposition of ‘rules’ with ‘savages’ emphasises how Golding positions civilisation and savagery as binary opposites, yet ironically this foreshadows the very breakdown of those ‘rules’. It becomes almost naïve in hindsight. Alternatively, it could be reinforcing Golding’s wider critique of society, where real-world civilisations impose ‘rules’ to distinguish themselves from ‘savages’, yet often fail to uphold their own moral codes, just as Ralph does when violence overtakes reason.
“There aren’t any grown-ups. We shall have to look after ourselves.”
Ralph’s early line ‘we shall have to look after ourselves’ foreshadows the central conflict of the novel. The lack of ‘grown-ups’ initially excited them, but here there is already the sense that it is a burden. The modal verb ‘shall’ adds formality, almost as if Ralph is trying to mimic adult authority. Perhaps Golding is highlighting the question of whether children- and by extension, mankind- can self-govern.
“The rules! You’re breaking the rules!’ ‘Who cares?”
Golding uses the contrasting exclamations in ‘The rules! You’re breaking the rules!’ with ‘who cares?’ to emphasize the tension between civilisation and savagery. Piggy’s desperate plea reflects his unwavering belief in the importance of order and structure, symbolised by ‘the rules’, which represents the last remainder of their civilised behaviour on the island. Whereas coupled with the blunt response of ‘who cares?’ emphasises how these ‘rules’ have become meaningless. This shift in tone reflects the fragility of civilisation when its principles are no longer respected, highlighting that ‘rules’ alone can no longer prevent savagery without mutual agreement and enforcement. This links to Piggy’s character arc, highlighting how his faith in civilisation ultimately isolates him, making his downfall inevitable. It could also allude to Golding’s wider societal commentary on power dynamics, such as how ‘rules’ like theirs can easily be broken when there are no consequences. Alternatively, these two phrases incorporate childlike language, perhaps suggesting that the boys still have not grasped the full gravity of their actions- they do not ‘care’.
“This is our island, it’s a good island.”
At the start, the boys’ optimism is clear: ‘this is our island. It’s a good island.’ The repetition of ‘island’ and the simple declaratives suggest a naïve belief in paradise. Ironically, this sets up a tragic arc- what was ‘good’ becomes corrupted. It emphasises the idea that the environment alone does not civilise people; without moral structure, even a ‘good island’ descends into chaos.
“What could be safer than the bus centre with its lamps and wheels?”
One of the littlun’s lines ‘what could be safer than the bus centre with its lamps and wheels?’ implies nostalgia for structured, urban life. The list of ‘lamps and wheels’ suggests routine and stability, completely contrasting with the island’s chaos. This rhetorical question highlights their desperation to return to the familiar world of rules and protection, especially with the mention of light (‘lamps’) symbolising order, now out of reach.
“Which is better- to have rules and agree, or to hunt and kill?”
In his final confrontation with the boys, Piggy desperately asks ‘which is better- to have rules and agree, or to hunt and kill?’. The rhetorical question, posed with urgent simplicity, is a final appeal to reason and order. The juxtaposition between ‘rules’ and ‘hunt’ symbolises the broader ideological clash between civilisation and savagery. Here, Golding uses Piggy as the mouthpiece of Enlightenment values, but with the lack of response or care from the boys underscores the trajectory of the novel: rationality cannot withstand the seductive pull of power, violence and fear. It is clear that Piggy’s moral clarity, though admirable, is powerless in the face of collective brutality.
“I’m chief. I’ll go. Don’t argue”
Ralph’s short, declarative sentence in ‘I’m chief. I’ll go. Don’t argue’ shows a shift in his tone- from a democratic leader to someone forced into authority. The repetition of ‘I’ reflects his isolation and determination, but also hints at desperation, encapsulating his growing loneliness in leadership as order breaks down. His refusal to let others ‘argue’ suggests how leadership becomes strained under pressure, especially when fear takes over. It highlights the burden of responsibility and how power, even when well intentioned, can begin to mirror the control it seeks to oppose.
“Authority sat on his shoulder and chattered in his ear like an ape”
Golding uses a simile and animalistic imagery here to show the deterioration of reasoned leadership into something primitive and chaotic. The idea that ‘authority’ has become something that ‘chattered…like an ape’ suggests that leadership is no longer rational or moral, but reduced to instinctual dominance and noise. This personification mocks the concept of ‘authority’, as an ape is often a symbol of regression. Alternatively, the idea that ‘authority sat on his shoulder’ evokes the metaphorical image of a devil and angel, symbolic of the conflicting influences on morality and decision making. Yet in this moment, ‘chatting authority’, likened to an ‘ape’, suggests that the voice of reason and morality (the angel) has been overwhelmed by instinct and savagery (the devil). This implies that Jack’s leadership style has completely regressed. Here, perhaps Golding is critiquing the superficiality of power, showing that without morality, authority becomes a hollow, almost a comical performance.
“The world, that understandable and lawful world, was slipping away”
Golding personifies civilisation as a world that is ‘slipping away’, implying not a sudden collapse, but a gradual erosion of order. The verb ‘slipping’ also connotes to something uncontrollable, perhaps reflecting how quickly society collapses with no external order. The use of the definitive article ‘the world’ suggests a collective, universal sense of order, now disintegrating, meanwhile the phrase ‘understandable and lawful’ reflects the comfort and structure of civilisation- rules, reason, predictability. This moment therefore marks Ralph’s growing awareness that civilisation is not innate, but fragile and easily lost.
‘What are we? Humans? Or animals? Or savages?
Piggy’s rhetorical question (‘What are we? Humans? Or animals? Or savages?’) helps to build tension by escalating through a hierarchy of civilisation. The list foreshadows the boys’ moral decline throughout the book- they are ‘humans’ at the beginning, ‘animals’ in the middle, and ‘savages’ at the end, structuring the novel’s trajectory. The question itself suggests uncertainty and fear, revealing how the boys have lost their grip on their own identity. It is clear they are not just unsure of their morality, but their entire sense of self. This directly links Piggy to his role as the voice of reason, where his question contrasts with the boys who blindly embrace savagery.
“There was the throb and stamp of a single organism”
Golding uses the metaphor of there being a ‘throb and stamp of a single organism’ to describe the mob as one unified, dehumanised body. The rhythm in ‘throb and stamp’ mimics a heartbeat or ritual dance, highlighting how the boys have merged into something primal. This emphasises that they aren’t just enjoying this savagery, but living for it, as violence becomes a necessity, not just an indulgence. Also, by calling them a ‘single organism’, Golding strips away any individuality, implying that groupthink can easily erase morality. It highlights that their savagery spreads when accountability is removed. He is perhaps suggesting that crowds like this allow violence to flourish- that savagery thrives not just in individuals, but in collective madness too.
“Taboo of the old life”
The phrase ‘taboo of the old life’ refers to the invisible yet powerful rules that once governed the boys’ behaviour. The noun ‘taboo’ evokes a cultural or religious prohibition, suggesting how deeply these norms are embedded. Yet the fact that it is linked to the ‘old life’ implies its erosion- it was once feared, but now it is irrelevant. This could suggest that the rules only work when they are upheld by society, and without structure, even the most sacred of laws can decay.
“The officer looked at him in astonishment… I should have thought that a pack of British boys… would have been able to put up a better show than that.”
The officer’s disappointment, wrapped in irony, underscores the failure of the boys to live up to the imperial ideals of British civility. The phrase ‘better show’ trivialises the boys descent into savagery, as though it was merely a failed school performance. The officer, representing the adult world, appears oblivious to the true horror of what has happened- highlighting Golding’s view that even civilisation is blind to its own undercurrent. It is also ironic to note that he described them as a ‘pack of British boys’, where the adjective ‘pack’ connotes to hunting dogs, yet when coupled with the noun ‘boys’ suggests that they are innocent and youthful to the brutality they have achieved.
“You’re a beast and a swine and a bloody, bloody thief”
Ralph’s desperate outburst, ‘you’re a beast and a swine and a bloody, bloody thief’ towards Jack combines bestial and moral accusations. The tricolon of insults builds intensity, while the repetition of ‘bloody’ intensifies the emotion. The comparison of Jack to a ‘beast’ and a ‘swine’ reduces him to something animalistic and grotesque, highlighting Ralph’s horror of what he’s become. Alternatively, by calling him a ‘beast’, symbolically reverses their earlier fear: the beast is no longer mythical, but embodied. However, the outburst is full of insults, reflecting the boys’ childlike tendency to simplify conflict through name-calling, revealing how Ralph, despite his rationality, cannot fully grasp the deeper consequences of their descent into savagery. This is because ‘swine’ and ‘thief’ echo playground quarrels, juxtaposing with the gravity of their actions. Here, Golding is clearly critiquing the boys as emotionally immature, even as they commit unspeakable crimes. Also, the word ‘thief’ could not only suggest the theft of Piggy’s glasses, but the theft of order, friendship and human decency as well.
“Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man’s heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy”
When Ralph sees the officer, a moment of deus ex machina, he ‘wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man’s heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy’. The tricolon structure underscores the emotional weight of this epiphany- moving from a loss of childhood ‘innocence’ to an abstract recognition of intrinsic evil, and finally to a deeply personal grief. It is clear that the rescue is not a moment of unequivocal joy as one might expect. The poetic phrasing of ‘fall through the air’ softens Piggy’s brutal death, mirroring society’s tendency to mask violence behind euphemism. Moreover, the abstract noun ‘darkness’ connotes to something hidden, mysterious and corrupt, while ‘heart’ (often associated with emotion and humanity) becomes a site of corruption- not just on the surface, but innately within them.
