Quote Importance in the Novel

Table of contents

How this quote is important to the novel

“Within the diamond haze of the beach something dark was fumbling along… Then the creature stepped from the mirage on to clear sand, and they saw that the darkness was not all shadow but mostly clothing.” (Golding 19)

The arrival of Jack Merridew and his militant choir is described as the imminent arrival of a savage beast or creature, foreshadowing Jack’s profound transformation from despotic choir leader to pig hunter to murderous dictator later in the novel.

Setting Quote from Chapter 2-4

“The smoke increased, sifted, rolled outward… Acres of black and yellow smoke rolled steadily toward the sea. At the sight of the flames and the irresistible course of the fire, the boys broke into shrill, excited cheering… Beneath the capering boys a quarter of a mile square of forest was savage with smoke and flame. The separate noises of the fire merged into a drum-roll that seemed to shake the mountain.”You got your small fire all right.”Startled, Ralph realized that the boys were falling still and silent, feeling the beginnings of awe at the power set free below them. The knowledge and the awe made him savage.” (Golding 44)

The rapidly spreading fire that breaks loose on the mountain symbolizes how uncontrollable savagery is taking over civity, order, and decomcary. Which falls the poor stranded boys. This kickoffs the violent beginning of the island’s gradual descent into total disarray and a turning point in the book. The overwhelming heat which remains over the island adequately serves as a symbolic precursor to the novel’s conclusive theme of self-destruction.

Setting Quote from Chapter 5-8

“What would a beast eat?” / “Pig.” / “We eat pig.” / “Piggy!” (Golding 83)

The ragged boys are still fearful of a beastie roaming aimlessly the island. The fundamental fact that the fearsome beast eats pig is significant and symbolic. The vicious beast of whom they speak is precisely the boys or the terrible evil within the boys. It is inevitably the boys who tragically kill Piggy later in the novel. In other cruel words, the beast does eat pig, metaphorically speaking.

Setting Quote from Chapter 9-12

“The beast struggled forward, broke the ring and fell over the steep edge of the rock to the sand by the water. At once the crowd surged after it, poured down the rock, leapt on to the beast, screamed, struck, bit, tore. There were no words, and no movements but the tearing of teeth and claws.
” (Golding 153)

Simon represents moral goodness. At this moment, evil has taken over the boys, and they eliminate goodness from the island. Simon was the one with the valuable information of where the true evil lay. His message will now never be delivered. This complex interaction between good and evil is the proper conclusion of Simon’s critical conversation with the pig head in chapter 8.

Part II

Authors often describe in detail the settings in their novels in order to convey important information and the feelings of the characters. In at least three paragraphs, describe an important setting in your own life and use vivid language to portray its meaning in the novel that is your life. Be creative in your writing as you reveal this setting and the role it plays in the person you are. (You may use personal pronouns in this section.)

Journal Entry Two: Challenges and triumphs help to develop one’s character. In Lord of the Flies, the characters face many challenges.

  • Part I: Choose one character from this novel who faces difficult challenges and describe how these hardships have shaped his character. (No personal pronouns ex – I/me/my/you/your/our)
  • Part II: In a separate paragraph, describe some adversity that you have also faced in your life. Explain how this adversity has shaped the person you are today. (You may use personal pronouns in this section)

There is undoubtedly a never-ending tenseness to my muscles that made me feel more like a mannequin on the soft bed than a human of raw flesh and bone. I want so much to melt into the soft bed, wrapped in warm blankets, and drift into the complex world of pleasant dreams. Yet my brain is a violent whirl of my illness, eagerly trying to organize the chaos in my life. This sleeplessness is my eternal torture. While the countless others of the world tenderly embrace their dreams enjoying their eight delightful hours of needed rest.

I toss and turn chasing the sense of lasting peace and mental stability. I was at a bad time of my life and was recommended to see a phycologist. My heart twisted and flooded with nerves as I lay on my bed, eyes closed. My chest heaved with a quiet sob, and tears welled up behind my eyelids, slipping down my cheeks without resistance. Another sob wrecked me, followed by blackness coming over me. Somehow it’s making my eyes feel heavier and heavier. I finally close my eyes eventually sending me into a dreamless sleep.

I instantly awoke to soft sheets, and the morning light trickled in through the blinds. Slowly and reluctantly, I uncover my ghastly face. I blink, close my eyes, and blink again. Visible streaks of dazzling sunlight penetrate through the window and blind me. I soaked in the pleasant warmth of my covers before allowing my brown eyes to receive the brilliant sun’s paralyzing rays. I sit up, forcibly drag my feet off the bed, and gently rubbed my knuckles into my sleepless eyes.

I extend my arms above my head and yawn. I passively watch my legs dangle above the off-white polyester carpet. I critically examined myself in the bedroom vanity mirror. My mournful sunken eyes looking back at me. I looked exhausted, sick even. I carefully wiped my tear-stained cheeks. My hand reached for my makeup and I liberally applied it all over my face slowly and carefully. Hoping to hide my depressing complexion.

“Leona, are you ready?”Asked my concerned mom. “We don’t have much time now.”
“Absolutely, I’ll be downstairs in a minute!” I shouted.

I stepped out of my mom’s car looking up at the soaring glass building as I slowly approach the heavy entrance and entered them. I walked into the building and pressed the button waiting for the elevator door to unlock. The doors opened as me and my anxious mother stepped inside. The elevator had brown walls, a polished marble flooring, a silver handrail and several buttons. I pressed the fourth level and waited for the doors to slide shut. The elevator rose to the chosen floor without stopping. The secure doors to my unknown fate opened. There was a brief welcoming smile from the obviously sleep deprived receptionist.

In the waiting room, there was square glass topped coffee tables with magazines, chairs, complimentary tan colored walls with patients gazing in their own private worlds with passiveness. As I stared dully at the blank wall in front of me and tried to forcibly suppress the dreadful thoughts in my mind. I felt the tension and anxiety build up in me as I stared blankly, my mind full of profound emptiness. Before the panic could swallow me alive, I managed to catch up on subtle breathing exercises to help me relax. Just as I regained my steady heartbeat by breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth. I could scarcely hear the continual tap of a heel against the polished floor, and my heart rate shot up once again, upon registering what was nearing.

“Leona Kwok?”

While I desperately tried regaining my normal state, I instantly saw an unknown woman peering at me and gently tapping her clipboard simultaneously. I stood up almost too quick, forcing a burning searing pain through me as I kick furiously at myself for being so unpresentable. Though the kind words that came out from her lips were inaudible amidst my own tense atmosphere, I could clearly comprehend what was awaiting me.

The walk to the therapist’s office felt almost non-existent as my conscious mind filled with the million possibilities of what could go wrong during the grueling session. I cautiously approached the slightly open door of the decorated room. I, unfortunately, instantly find myself digging my fingernails intensely into my calloused palms.

My therapist office was an enormous room occupying the side of the building with floor-to-ceiling windows. The room was modest, square, with two grey couches, and a cleared table. The walls are cream and bare. The two remaining walls contained a door, a low bookshelf, and a single oil painting, a vase of blooming flowers. I subtly shifted my attention to the black glass surface of her polished desk was a computer, a leather notebook and a framed photograph of her family.

Upon voluntarily entering her office for the first time. I willingly select one of the two plush couches and sat down, my body immediately uncomfortable, my tongue already asking for an intoxicating drink of water. My hands now damp with profuse sweat. I breathe in through my mouth, my throat tight and sticky with unreasonable fear. I was about to expose my life’s story to an absolute and complete stranger. I’ll mercifully spare you the more gruesome details of my extraordinary session, but I’ll foolishly give some bearable, less personal elements.

Heavy was the only way I could adequately define it. I have to carry it around even though I never wanted to. It was always over me, projecting its grotesque shadow on my life. It was carefully hung by a thin thread, too fragile to hold something so heavy. Most of the time I didn’t know what caused the frail thread to completely break inadvertently releasing the excruciating weight on me. It always fell too fast, and before I could run aimlessly I’d be hopelessly pinned down.

It brutally crushed my ribs, made it impossible for me to breathe. I never know how to accurately define it. I desperately want to smile, laugh along with everyone but something in me grabs my heart tight, crushes it to countless billions of miserable pieces. The brightness inside of me is gulped by something dark. That something is the unseen, unheard, silent killer. It’s precisely the unbearable pain that’s too much to cope with, too hard to deal with and so misunderstood. You can’t escape it no matter how hard you frantically try.

It inevitably follows you around like an ominous shadow that’s overwhelmingly on the inside, devouring you. This was all built up from endless bullying and other factors that I need now intensive care form the consequences of the others actions.

I never thoroughly considered exactly what going to intensive therapy might look and feel like. I wouldn’t have imagined a heart-pounding, tear-running, mess of a frightened girl sitting uncomfortably as her life is unfolded naturally before a perfect stranger. Seeing a therapist changed my hectic life. It instantly transferred all the crushing weight off of my wounded shoulders and hurled it in my face. Which was terrifying, enlightening, alienating, but entirely necessary. I naturally learned to forcibly take the chaotic mess that was finally visible to me and properly arrange it into manageable piles. This emotional process takes time and hopefully with the needed help of proper therapy and appropriate medication I can recover sufficiently.

In the book “The Lord of The Flies”, the character piggy is a prominent presence that helps make the book what it is. First and foremost Piggy is the embodiment of intellect and rationalism but he is in addition also being the saddest of the ragged boys. He is overweight and undoubtedly has asthma. Piggy has to deal with being made fun of, picked on, and eventually killed by Roger. Piggy lacks any physical power and strength yet he makes up for it with his intelligent and straightforward personality.

After reading The Lord of The Flies and carefully analyzing the character development and the hardships of Piggy. I have concluded that Piggy is a very important character in the incredible story. Even though he may be lacking the physical power in order to properly survive on the island, he still possesses superior intelligence over everyone else. This makes him an absolutely key player as he tries innovating and creating new things like the sundial in order to make the island a better place.

Plus, his glasses were the entire reason why the boys could start a fire which eventually led them to be rescued. So in a way, Piggy indirectly and miraculously saved Ralph’s life and saved Jack and his group of followers to transform into power-hungry beasts for the rest of their lives until they all died. This has led to the conclusion that even though piggy was fat and mostly a wimp throughout the novel. He’s contributed to the novel significantly as his actions from the conch shell to his glasses directly affected the lives of everyone on the island whether for the better or the worse.

Choice: Jane Eyre

Use the novel that you have chosen to complete the following entries:

A literary hero is often defined as “a character in a literary work, especially the leading male/female character, who is especially virtuous, usually larger than life, sometimes almost godlike”(W.W. Norton). These characters also often embody the ideals their culture.

  • Part I: Based on the definition above, choose a character from Jane Eyre and explain how he or she either is or is not a hero/heroine. Be sure to show (using specific examples from the novel) the actions/personality traits that prove that this character should or should not be considered a hero. (No personal pronouns in this section I/me/my/you/your/our)
  • Part II: In a second paragraph, compare the hero/heroine to a hero/heroine in modern literature or film. Give examples of their similarities/differences. (No personal pronouns in this section I/me/my/you/your/our)

In the mid-nineteenth century, a typical woman would have carried the burden of “staying in her place.” In other words, she was subject to the universally established standards and social roles that society had traditionally placed upon her. Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre depicts Jane Eyre as a feminist heroine of the 19th century. At a time when women depended on men financially and socially and considered as property only useful for family life and marriage.

Yet if Charlotte Bronte’s iconic character Jane Eyre had, in fact, existed in that time period, she would have defied most of these cultural standards and proved herself a prime example for aspiring feminists of her day. Jane would have adequately represented their unique version of a mighty heroine. Jane’s profound commitment to dignity, independence, freedom of choice, unwillingness to submit to a man’s emotional power and eager willingness to speak her mind represents sufficient evidence of why Jane Eyre remains undoubtedly a fictional heroine of the feminist cause.

It could be respectively said Jane is a “bad” feminist. However, it’s impossible to naturally suggest that a novel written in the 19th century should perfectly fit the mold of what 21st-century feminism should be. Feminism is a social movement powered by people, and because it is powered by people, it can have it’s faults. Alternatively, literature should function as an education in how modern society has evolved tremendously since the 1840s.

We should thoughtfully look at how Jane Eyre and Charlotte Bronte fit and instantly broke the molds within that time. Maybe in a contemporary Jane Eyre, Jane would say sternly “bye” to Rochester and move to better herself in ways that didn’t involve marriage, but Jane Eyre and its enduring can teach us the poetic beauty of being both true to ourselves, whether we genuinely want to be a budding entrepreneur or a housewife/husband or both and still be an outspoken feminist.

The key point of feminism is not that women are better than men or don’t require men or should shun all of society for some new creation – it’s that women are equal and have a choice. Just as some voluntarily choose to be devoted moms and excellent teachers and gentle nurses still to this glorious day although they are “traditional feminine roles,” does not conclude them less worthy feminists and legendary heroines. Jane Eyre is an appropriate heroine of the feminist movement because she embodies the value of feminism which is equal social, political, intellectual and economic right for both men and women.

Making connections while reading literature is one way that readers deepen their enjoyment of a text and broaden their understanding and knowledge. Readers often make three types of connections: text-to-text, text-to-self, and text-to-world. For this assignment, you should write three separate paragraphs discussing connections you have made while reading your chosen text. Write one paragraph for each different type of connection. For each paragraph, you should include a quote (with the page number) that relates to your connection. Identify the speaker of the quote (a specific character or the narrator), as well as the situation surrounding the quote (setting and plot events). (Personal pronouns in this section I/me/my/you/your/our may ONLY be used for the TEXT to SELF section).

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