Tag: Piggy

Illustration of Simon by Andrés Vera Martínez

In William Golding’s Lord of the Flies, Simon stands apart from the other biguns as a luminous symbol of innate goodness, moral clarity, and spiritual insight. The novel places him at the beginning as a sickly and quiet, but kind boy ending up as a prophet violently silenced by the very society he tried to save.

In this article…

1. Introduction as a Fragile Yet Strong Boy

Simon is one of the choirboys under Jack Merridew’s command. In the first scene is introduced, he faints. Jack remarks:

“He’s always throwing a faint… He did in Gib; and Addis; and at matins over the precentor.”

It’s an early hint at his fragility. But he is not much physically weak for someone who faints frequently. In fact, he accompanies Ralph and Jack to the mountain during their first expedition pacing between them. This could be symbolic of the two eventual leaders’ trust in his ability, neutrality between two dominant personalities, and kind of physical and moral balance.

Simon has a natural affinity for peace. Unlike Jack, who seeks control, or Ralph, who carries the burden of leadership, and Piggy, who seeks supports, he prefers independence, solitude and reflection. He is more connected with nature than the others since he escapes to a hidden forest glade, finding solace among butterflies, candle-buds, and silence.

He is also the most compassionate. Simon is the only one who truly understands and helps Piggy, fetching his glasses and comforting the younger “littluns” with fruit. His kindness is instinctive, not strategic.

In these early moments, he emerges as a spiritual leader as expected of a choirboy. Unlike Jack and his hunters, he retains his moral compass and remains a gentle soul existing outside the usual group dynamics.

2. A Prophetic Insight: Seeing the Truth Others Can’t

In a meeting of the boys where they talk of the beast from water and air, Ralph, Jack and Piggy dismiss the fear because no one has seen a beast. Simon is the one who sees urges them to look within.

“Maybe there is a beast… maybe it’s only us.”

This line, whispered during a fearful assembly, is perhaps the most profound insight in the entire novel. While others imagine a physical monster stalking them, Simon realizes the “beast” is the darkness within themselves. He touches the central theme of Golding’s novel: that savagery is not an external threat but a dormant part of human nature.

But his voice is lost amid fear, ridicule, and power politics. Like a prophet dismissed for others to look into their souls, the group isolates him further since the idea is too unsettling to accept.

3. The Vision: The Lord of the Flies and the Breaking of the Mind

The most symbolic and harrowing moment in the entire novel comes with Simon’s hallucinatory confrontation with the impaled sow’s head, the literal Lord of the Flies. It says to him:

“There isn’t anyone to help you. Only me. And I’m the Beast.”

The beast adds:

“I’m part of you. Close, close, close! I’m the reason why it’s no go? Why things are what they are?”

As his mind keeps drifting, the Lord of the Flies brings out the truth:

“Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill! … You knew, didn’t you? I’m part of you?”

In these moments, Simon’s mind shatters and he descends into unconsciousness. After this psychosis he is the most isolated as he has gone where no other boy has.

4. Simon’s Martyrdom

After waking, Simon climbs the mountain and discovered the decayed body of a parachutist, the beast from air.

“The beast was harmless and horrible; and the news must reach the others as soon as possible.”

He stumbles down from the mountain to reveal the truth and staggers into the boys’ frenzied dance.

In a moment of ritualistic hysteria, Simon is mistaken for the beast and brutally murdered by the very boys he came to save.

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.

Jack and his hunters are indifferent, and Piggy and Ralph try rationalising the action, but the nature mourns his death. The storm that follows, washing his body out to sea with glowing creatures surrounding him, transforms Simon’s death into something sacred:

“Softly, surrounded by a fringe of inquisitive bright creatures, itself a silver shape beneath the steadfast constellation… Simultaneously, the clouds opened and let down the rain like a waterfall.”

Golding paints Simon as a Christ-like figure, a martyr who dies bringing truth to a world unwilling to hear it. His death marks the irrevocable fall into savagery.

Conclusion: Simon as the Soul of the Novel

Simon’s arc from a silent, compassionate child to a misunderstood prophet makes him the most morally uncorrupted character in Lord of the Flies. He represents inherent human goodness, unaffected by society and groupthink, spiritual and philosophical depth, grounded in empathy and insight, and the inevitable fate of truth in a world ruled by fear and violence. His murder is the most numbing moment implying the end of humanity. Once he dies, there remains only savagery.

Piggy: The Ruined Rationalist in Lord of the Flies

By Sandeept

On July 18, 2025

In Character study, Book Review, essay

William Golding‘s Lord of the Flies is a brutal allegory of civilisation’s collapse explored in the realm of English boys stranded on an island. While Ralph symbolises democratic order and Jack the descent into savagery, Piggy stands apart as the voice of reason and intellect. However, despite being the most rational boy on the island, he is mocked and bullied for his uniqueness and ultimately destroyed. His tragic arc is not only a personal downfall but also evidence of humanity’s tendency to reject reason when fear and instinct take over.

Illustration of Piggy by Andrés Vera Martínez

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Piggy’s Role in the Narrative

Piggy is the first boy introduced alongside Ralph. His fat body, thick glasses, thin hair that does not seem to grow, and asthma make him an unattractive outcast. He carries trauma from being bullied at home, which renders him socially awkward. Although Ralph introduces him to others with the dehumanising nickname Piggy, he is not mad at him for breaking the promise. He accepts the mockery as if calling by any name is enough. As a consequence, he is the only character whose real name is never revealed. Golding’s literary choice strips him of personal identity.

Despite his appearance, Piggy possesses the sharpest mind among the boys. He is responsible for several foundational ideas on the island:

The use of the conch shell as a symbol of democracy, order, and source of power.
The importance of maintaining the signal fire for rescue.
An insistence on rational thought over superstition when the littluns are scared of the beast.

Yet time and again, Piggy’s intellect is overshadowed by his social awkwardness. His ideas and logic don’t bear weight unless validated by Ralph, the leader. And when the others don’t care for his words, he follows them “with the martyred expression of a parent who has to keep up with the senseless ebullience of the children.”

Piggy and the Symbolism of the Glasses

Piggy’s spectacles serve as a powerful symbol in the novel:

They represent scientific knowledge that allows the boys to harness nature.
As the glasses are damaged and eventually stolen by Jack’s tribe, reason and clarity deteriorate on the island.
When Jack and his tribe steal the glasses, brute force usurps science.

By the time Piggy is murdered, the glasses are no longer an aid for vision but a tool for destruction, used to light destructive fires rather than the signal fire of hope.

Piggy and the Conch: Twin Pillars of Civilization

Piggy clings to the conch shell as desperately as he does to reason. He believes in its symbolic power and defends it even when the others no longer do:

“I got the conch! I got the right to speak!”

His faith in the conch mirrors his faith in rules, dialogue, and justice. It was also his compulsion to cling to order since he was vulnerable, and rules meant predictability to the promise of his protection. When Roger kills Piggy and the conch shatters, there is no longer civil discourse on the island.

Piggy’s Rationalizations and Flawed Humanity

Despite being the most logical character, Piggy is not immune to moral failings. He is scornful of the boys for behaving “like a crowd of kids!” When Jack breaks away from the group, he and Ralph are tempted by the meat. They cater to their hunger even if it is insulting.

Also, after Simon is brutally murdered, Piggy tries to rationalise the act:

“It was an accident… that’s what it was. An accident.”

This moment reveals that Piggy, too, is vulnerable. He cannot confront the full horror of what the boys have become. His attempt to preserve sanity by denying culpability shows that even reason seeks comfort in denial when faced with the abyss.

Piggy’s Death and Legacy

Golding seems to foreshadow Piggy’s death from the first successful hunt. The chant of “Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Spill the blood” seems to subconsciously hint the readers towards Piggy’s ultimate fate.

And when Piggy’s death comes, it is one of the most brutal and symbolic moments in the novel. He is crushed by a boulder rolled by Roger, a deliberate act of premeditated violence. Roger kills Piggy out of cold dominance.

Piggy falls with the conch in his hand. His death marks the complete collapse of civilisation, the final erasure of order and rationality from the island. No one mourns him. No one buries him. He is a forgotten martyr of lost reason.

Conclusion: Piggy as the Broken Voice of Enlightenment

In a world unravelling into chaos, Piggy’s voice is the one we most urgently need. Voices of rationality like his are also the ones most easily ignored. Piggy is the embodiment of Enlightenment values, crushed under the weight of fear, violence, and groupthink.

Through Piggy, Golding seems to ask:
What good is logic in a world ruled by emotion?
What power does reason have when no one listens?

In the end, Piggy doesn’t simply die. He is silenced. With him die rationality, logic, and civil discourse. And perhaps that is the greatest tragedy of all.

Experiences of a common man!