My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I am utterly disturbed.
I never had to read this book at school, and in a way I am glad I didn’t because I was even more sensitive as a teen than I am now. This book haunted me when I turned the last page. I was thinking it would be like Swallows and Amazon’s in an adventurous Treasure Island kinda way.
I was so damn wrong. So damn wrong.
This book was so haunting, and my god metaphorical.
We have a group of English school boys stranded from a plane crash on a dessert island. They can’t seem to get anyone’s attention so they try to survive.
I GOT THE CONCH.
(the damn bloody conch.)
At a remarkable fast pace the western way of living these boys had grown up in is peeled back, humanity itself is drained until basic animalistic instincts are left in all but two of the boys.
The breakdown of the civilised facade we all wear, layer by layer it’s gone, and it’s incredibly hard and uncomfortable to watch. The boys are constantly looking for an adult figure to sort out everything, and yet when the adult comes along, he turns away – unable to acknowledge what has happened. Or constructively help. Yet unable to see that the same layers are in the western world, through violence, and wars and destruction upon our homes.
I can’t decide if it’s 5* because it’s good, or because it’s done what it’s designed to do. I haven’t come away feeling joyous, but some books are meant to be good without making you feel so.