I am taking a course in Lord of the Flies by William Golding.  The book was first published in Great Britain in 1954.  I’ve read it once before and cannot be sure whether I was in high school, or college.  Golding writes a parable, a deft assay of our human condition, of the trajectory of personality development/disintegration.  He suggests the fate possible or likely for us collectively…

This section, concluding the chapter entitled Beast From Water echoes in my mind:

“Grown-ups know things,” said Piggy. “They ain’t afraid of the dark. They’d meet and have tea and discuss. Then things ’ud be all right—”

“They wouldn’t set fire to the island. Or lose—”

“They’d build a ship—”

The three boys stood in the darkness, striving unsuccessfully to convey the majesty of adult life.

“They wouldn’t quarrel—”

“Or break my specs—”

“Or talk about a beast—”

“If only they could get a message to us,” cried Ralph desperately. “If only they could send us something grown-up.. . . a sign or something.”

A thin wail out of the darkness chilled them and set them grabbing for each other. Then the wail rose, remote and unearthly, and turned to an inarticulate gibbering. Percival Wemys Madison, of the Vicarage, Harcourt St. Anthony, lying in the long grass, was living through circumstances in which the incantation of his address was powerless to help him.

—Lord of the Flies by William Golding, chapter 5, page 94