I met someone today who made me laugh at myself. Someone who seems to have mastered an art, (yes, an art) of delivering veiled compliments, most often delivered by a smile that confounds you even further. I mean those that lie in that grey undefined area between a latent compliment and a thinly-veiled diss. Almost like a Muhammad Ali punching you with velvet gloves, keeping your mind reeling as you wonder on whether you should be wowed that such an icon actually did that to you, or the fact that you just didn’t see it coming.
All this because of a book: Lord of The Flies, one of William Golding’s best works ever.
I love it for the amazing replication of the naivety of childish conversations glazed over by a dab of encroaching responsibility and sensibility of adulthood and yet all spiced up by the unmistakable nuances of British English (who else ever uses bollocks, haha?)
How the book slowly generates into an almost horror-laden adventure into a world where the unknown is all of your own making, a tale of how we are rudimentarily wired to divide ourselves into classes and seek leaders among ourselves while justifying such lofty positions.
I love the book because it is such a dainty piece (everyone loves a ‘short’ novel) that takes a justified accusatory angle at societal roles and norms that we have long accepted and ignore.
And what is more, the ENTIRE book is one lengthy metaphor. Symbols of everyday matters in society abound such that even the average reader would be able to make out the subtle meanings hidden behind the childish conversations and awkward chants.
So someone made me laugh at myself, by claiming that my writing on this blog and the book’s main concept are windows into the inner workings of my mind. Apparently, I have a disconnect from reality, almost rebellious, stuck in a fantasy world you could say. Like an adult who doesn’t want to shut out the child in him. That I’m just a big child deep inside this clueless mass of ideas, thoughts, flesh and God-given soul.
*Wait a minute; can this be regarded as a book review? Never written one.*