During Chapter 2, after discovering Piggy's glasses can be used to spark a flame, the boys accidentally set a forest fire. The passage makes heavy use of figurative language:
One patch touched a tree trunk and scrambled up like a bright squirrel. The smoke increased, sifted, rolled outwards. The squirrel leapt on the wings of the wind and clung to another standing tree, eating downwards. Beneath the dark canopy of leaves and smoke the fire laid hold on the forest and began to gnaw. Acres of black and yellow smoke rolled steadily toward the sea. […] The flames, as though they were a kind of wild life, crept as a jaguar creeps on its belly toward a line of birch-like saplings that fledged an outcrop of the pink rock. They flapped at the first of the trees, and the branches grew a brief foliage of fire. The heart of flame leapt nimbly across the gap between the trees and then went swinging and flaring along the whole row of them.
First the fire is like a squirrel (simile), then it simply is one (metaphor). The flames are all sorts of "wild life": not only squirrels, but also jaguars. These metaphors indicate the fire's speed and ease of spreading. They also provide visceral imagery of the out-of-control fire. For much the same purposes, the fire is personified: the flames "leapt nimbly" and then "went swinging and flaring." Fire "began to gnaw" at the forest. This personification attributes hunger and excited destruction to fire. Just as the boys later become excited to cause destruction, seemingly without pausing to think about the consequences of their actions, so too does the fire here playfully and happily ruin a patch of jungle.
This early forest fire foreshadows the final events of the novel. In chapter 12, Jack's tribe sets fire to part of the forest to try to flush out Ralph.
Now the fire was nearer; those volleying shots were great limbs, trunks even, bursting. The fools! The fools! The fire must be almost at the fruit trees—what would they eat tomorrow?
Ralph hears a sound like "volleying shots," as if the fire is shooting at him, but it's instead the sound of wood splintering because of the fast-burning fire. Remember the playful yet destructive personification of the fire earlier? Now we see the consequences of that kind of "savage" behavior—the fire may kill Ralph today, but Jack and his tribe will have nothing to eat tomorrow. Again, savagery and hotheadedness work against civilization and life.
In chapter two, the boys successfully make a fire for the first time, and several literary devices are used to describe it:
The pile was so rotten, and now so tinder-dry, that whole limbs yielded passionately to the yellow flames that poured upwards and shook a great beard of flame twenty feet in the air. For yards round the fire the heat was like a blow, and the breeze was a river of sparks. Trunks crumbled to white dust.
The wood "yielded passionately" as if it enjoys being burned up. In this moment, nature works with the boys, and personifying the wood in this way makes it seem as if even the firewood wants them to succeed. For the boys and the reader alike, this is a moment of hope—they have made a fire, long considered crucial to the start of civilization.
"Yellow flames [...] poured upwards and shook a great beard of flame": this first descriptive image of fire (readers will encounter many more over the course of the novel) allows the reader to better imagine the blaze. Golding uses the unusual description "poured upwards" to describe the fire's raging—later, he metaphorically says the "breeze was a river of sparks." Both times, fire is like a liquid, and this elemental inversion plays into the strange setting the boys find themselves in.
The heat is described as "like a blow," as if the heat is punching the boys. This is a violent simile Golding reuses later to describe the midday heat on the island. Heat, both literal and figurative (in the sense of passion, hotheadedness), is prominent in this novel and often has violent results.
Remember that this first fire burns out because it gets too big for the boys to maintain it. These literary devices describe the strength and fury of the fire, which will cause it to use up the wood too quickly. Although the boys are amazed at the power of their first fire, it is this power that causes it to fail—much as Jack's power seems to get ahead of him.
In Chapter 4, Jack and his hunters kill a pig instead of keeping the fire lit as Ralph had asked. As Ralph yells at Jack for abandoning his post, Jack doesn't listen. The passage uses both metaphor and simile:
His mind was crowded with memories; memories of the knowledge that had come to them when they closed in on the struggling pig, knowledge that they had outwitted a living thing, imposed their will upon it, taken away its life like a long satisfying drink.
Jack's mind is metaphorically "crowded with memories"—the visceral impressions of the pig hunt overshadow Ralph's anger. The final sentence contains the simile that best describes Jack's enjoyment of the hunt. It is not about getting meat, or even about the game of the hunt, but about a baser and more instinctive pleasure in killing. The simile that compares the pig's death to a "long satisfying drink" reveals that, at least for Jack and perhaps for the rest of the boys, the killing of the pig satisfied a bodily need. This foreshadows the deaths of Simon and Piggy, as well as Samneric's torture and the final chapter of the book, when Jack's tribe hunts Ralph. These cruel acts seem to tap into a latent instinct the boys have. Perhaps this moment, when Jack savors the pig's death "like a long satisfying drink," is when he and the other older boys begin to fall into savagery and prioritize their wants over the lives of others.
In Chapter 4, the author uses imagery and metaphor to describe how the boys grow accustomed to the island's natural cycles:
The first rhythm that they became used to was the slow swing from dawn to quick dusk. They accepted the pleasures of morning, the bright sun, the whelming sea and sweet air, as a time when play was good and life so full that hope was not necessary and therefore forgotten. Toward noon, as the floods of light fell more nearly to the perpendicular, the stark colors of the morning were smoothed in pearl and opalescence; and the heat—as though the impending sun’s height gave it momentum—became a blow that they ducked, running to the shade and lying there, perhaps even sleeping.
The phrase "the slow swing from dawn to quick dusk" is a metaphor for the movement of the day. The "slow swing" suggests a gentle rocking motion, appropriate for the life of leisure, play, and napping that the narrator describes the boys enjoying. Their enjoyment is a bodily one, and Golding's imagery and metaphors allow the reader to imagine the sensual pleasures of the island, which include the "bright sun," "sweet air," and "floods of light." One excellent metaphor says the island looks "smoothed in pearl and opalescence" during midday—the sun makes the island look like a jewel. Finally, "the heat […] became a blow that they ducked." In this descriptive metaphor, the heat is like a punch. This metaphor helps readers comprehend the oppressive heat, which is both literally dangerous to the boys and figuratively representative of the hotheadedness and passion which overtakes the characters during the novel, leading to violence and death. Once again, although the description of the island here is beautiful, a strain of dread underlies the natural paradise.
In Chapter 5, Ralph paces the beach as he tries to decide what he'll say to the boys at the assembly. The narrator uses metaphor to describe his thought process:
The tide was coming in and there was only a narrow strip of firm beach between the water and the white, stumbling stuff near the palm terrace. Ralph chose the firm strip as a path because he needed to think, and only here could he allow his feet to move without having to watch them. Suddenly, pacing by the water, he was overcome with astonishment. He found himself understanding the wearisomeness of this life, where every path was an improvisation and a considerable part of one’s waking life was spent watching one’s feet.
Initially, the path and the feet are literal—Ralph walks along the beach and wants his path to be easy so he can think. His second realization could also be classed as literal: on the island, there is no sure path, because there are no other people, and he should certainly watch where he's going. But his second realization could also be a metaphor about the difficulties of leadership, or of being responsible for others. Because there are no adults on the island, Ralph as a leader has to decide what the boys should do. Each new problem is a situation Ralph has to solve without a guide; in other words, "every path [is] an improvisation." Likewise, Ralph needs to "watch his feet" metaphorically—as in, he needs to be mindful of what he's doing, what's going on around him, and especially of what the other boys might be plotting.
In Chapter 6, Ralph looks out at the ocean while exploring Castle Rock, and the narrator uses a variety of literary devices to describe it:
Now he saw the landsman’s view of the swell and it seemed like the breathing of some stupendous creature. Slowly the waters sank among the rocks, revealing pink tables of granite, strange growths of coral, polyp, and weed. Down, down, the waters went, whispering like the wind among the heads of the forest. There was one flat rock there, spread like a table, and the waters sucking down on the four weedy sides made them seem like cliffs. Then the sleeping leviathan breathed out, the waters rose, the weed streamed, and the water boiled over the table rock with a roar. There was no sense of the passage of waves; only this minute-long fall and rise and fall.
Golding's descriptions of the ocean use personification, simile, and metaphor to create the image of a massive, sleeping (for now) monster. The ocean looks like a massive creature breathing; it is a "leviathan." This characterization adds to the reader's sense of dread, and it gives readers a sense of what Ralph sees when he looks out at the water separating him from his home: the ocean seems an insurmountable obstacle.
The water is "whispering like the wind among the heads of the forest." Just as Golding compares fire to water, now water is compared to another natural element: wind. The boys are surrounded by the natural, which seems to operate by mysterious principles and, even worse, cannot be totally controlled by humans. Fire, water, wind, and other forces of the natural environment are strong and unmerciful.
Again, note Golding's careful and evocative descriptions of the natural environment. He supports his imagery with similes and metaphors: for instance, the rocks are "spread like a table" and "seem like cliffs." Repeated returns to the island's natural scenery are both beautiful and worrying—as Golding describes it, danger lurks under every piece of the island landscape.
Often, Simon is compared to Jesus Christ or called a "Christ figure." But the book never explicitly says he is like Christ. How do readers understand him as similar to the Christian Savior? This scene, in chapter 8, creates a strong allusion using imagery and metaphor:
He went on among the creepers until he reached the great mat that was woven by the open space and crawled inside. Beyond the screen of leaves the sunlight pelted down and the butterflies danced in the middle their unending dance. He knelt down and the arrow of the sun fell on him. That other time the air had seemed to vibrate with heat; but now it threatened. Soon the sweat was running from his long coarse hair. He shifted restlessly but there was no avoiding the sun. Presently he was thirsty, and then very thirsty. He continued to sit.
This meditative moment evokes Jesus fasting in the desert for 40 days. Despite his thirst and his discomfort with the sun, Simon does not move. What is he waiting for? This moment of suffering and waiting is something many figures in the Bible undergo, including and especially Jesus. Simon kneels as if in prayer. Even if the novel is not explicitly Christian, Golding seems to use Jesus as a model for Simon's character.
The metaphor "arrow of the sun" suggests indicating Simon is receiving divine guidance or seeking it. The sun often represents a deity, and in this novel the sun and heat are often painful. This is once again true here, where the heat is explicitly described as uncomfortable and also metaphorically called an "arrow." In a Christian understanding, being close to God does not mean one's life will be free of suffering; in fact, quite the opposite often occurs, not only in the story of Jesus's crucifixion, but also with Christian martyrs. Simon's position as a Christlike figure in the book does not only depend on his spiritual awareness and wisdom, but also his suffering, unique exposure to death (when he frees the parachutist's corpse), and eventual "sacrifice," when the boys kill him.
In Chapter 8, Jack and his hunters track down a group of pigs, in a passage that employs metaphor and personification:
The pigs lay, bloated bags of fat, sensuously enjoying the shadows under the trees. There was no wind and they were unsuspicious; and practice had made Jack silent as the shadows. He stole away again and instructed his hidden hunters. Presently they all began to inch forward sweating in the silence and heat. Under the trees an ear flapped idly. A little apart from the rest, sunk in deep maternal bliss, lay the largest sow of the lot. She was black and pink; and the great bladder of her belly was fringed with a row of piglets that slept or burrowed and squeaked.
The pigs "sensuously enjoy the shadows" as if relaxing by the pool; they are "unsuspicious" and relaxed. This characterization makes the pigs seem innocent and Jack's hunting therefore cruel. There is a way to write this scene in which Jack is brave for hunting pigs, or is genuinely doing something of service to the boys trapped on the island, but Golding has opted for the complete opposite strategy. He wants us to feel bad for the pigs, especially the sow Jack eventually kills, who is resting in "deep maternal bliss" with her piglets. This personification makes Jack's hunt abhorrent to the reader.
The metaphor—"bloated bags of fat"—makes the pigs seem helpless and unthreatening, even a little funny. Jack takes their weakness and lack of suspicion as permission to be cruel to them, but readers likely understand that same weakness as a reason Jack shouldn't hunt the pigs.
In Chapter 9, during a feast that Jack uses to undermine Ralph's authority and sway boys to his tribe, Jack is described using metaphor, personification, and simile:
Power lay in the brown swell of his forearms: authority sat on his shoulder and chattered in his ear like an ape.
Power could literally "lay in the brown swell of [Jack's] forearms," since that swell is probably muscle, the source of his impressive athletic abilities. However, this phrase could also be understood metaphorically: Jack's commanding physical appearance and charisma do also give him power in situations such as these, where he has to convince the other boys to follow him. Recall how Piggy is bullied and ignored for looking and seeming weak—Jack's appearance of strength, regardless of whether he actually possesses it, is a tool he can use to win the boys to his side.
Personified authority sits on Jack's shoulder, a metaphor we can take to understand that Jack's desire to be the leader, and his enjoyment of being in charge, is guiding his decisions. Furthermore, authority chatters like an ape: in other words, it produces useless noise that Jack still listens to. The authority he already has distracts and tempts him into seizing more. Since the book is in part about human nature, Golding is making a claim here about what drives some people to violence, evil, and bad decision-making: a love of power.
The "curtain" in Ralph's mind is a metaphor for his increasing struggle to think as his time on the island lengthens. The first time it is mentioned is in Chapter 10, while he is trying to rally the boys who are still with him:
He looked from face to face. Then, at the moment of greatest passion and conviction, that curtain flapped in his head and he forgot what he had been driving at. He knelt there, his fist clenched, gazing solemnly from one to the other. Then the curtain whisked back.
This moment of forgetfulness and confusion occurs again in Chapter 11:
He paused lamely as the curtain flickered in his brain.
During his time on the island, Ralph has mostly been eating fruit, which likely does not give him the necessary calories or nutrition to function, and it is possible he has been overexposed to the sun. He is possibly not getting enough water or sleep, and certainly he is stressed. Any of these factors—or other problems—could contribute to his mental fog. The "curtain" metaphor only subtly informs us about Ralph's trouble focusing and thinking, not what has caused that trouble. The reader has the same information as Ralph does.
The metaphorical curtain in Ralph's mind swings back and forth, blocking information like a real curtain blocks light. It moves unexpectedly and surprises him. By this later point in the novel, he is not entirely himself and does not have the same mental stamina he had earlier. The metaphor thus contributes to the concern and dread the reader feels for Ralph.
The "curtain" in Ralph's mind is a metaphor for his increasing struggle to think as his time on the island lengthens. The first time it is mentioned is in Chapter 10, while he is trying to rally the boys who are still with him:
He looked from face to face. Then, at the moment of greatest passion and conviction, that curtain flapped in his head and he forgot what he had been driving at. He knelt there, his fist clenched, gazing solemnly from one to the other. Then the curtain whisked back.
This moment of forgetfulness and confusion occurs again in Chapter 11:
He paused lamely as the curtain flickered in his brain.
During his time on the island, Ralph has mostly been eating fruit, which likely does not give him the necessary calories or nutrition to function, and it is possible he has been overexposed to the sun. He is possibly not getting enough water or sleep, and certainly he is stressed. Any of these factors—or other problems—could contribute to his mental fog. The "curtain" metaphor only subtly informs us about Ralph's trouble focusing and thinking, not what has caused that trouble. The reader has the same information as Ralph does.
The metaphorical curtain in Ralph's mind swings back and forth, blocking information like a real curtain blocks light. It moves unexpectedly and surprises him. By this later point in the novel, he is not entirely himself and does not have the same mental stamina he had earlier. The metaphor thus contributes to the concern and dread the reader feels for Ralph.
During Chapter 2, after discovering Piggy's glasses can be used to spark a flame, the boys accidentally set a forest fire. The passage makes heavy use of figurative language:
One patch touched a tree trunk and scrambled up like a bright squirrel. The smoke increased, sifted, rolled outwards. The squirrel leapt on the wings of the wind and clung to another standing tree, eating downwards. Beneath the dark canopy of leaves and smoke the fire laid hold on the forest and began to gnaw. Acres of black and yellow smoke rolled steadily toward the sea. […] The flames, as though they were a kind of wild life, crept as a jaguar creeps on its belly toward a line of birch-like saplings that fledged an outcrop of the pink rock. They flapped at the first of the trees, and the branches grew a brief foliage of fire. The heart of flame leapt nimbly across the gap between the trees and then went swinging and flaring along the whole row of them.
First the fire is like a squirrel (simile), then it simply is one (metaphor). The flames are all sorts of "wild life": not only squirrels, but also jaguars. These metaphors indicate the fire's speed and ease of spreading. They also provide visceral imagery of the out-of-control fire. For much the same purposes, the fire is personified: the flames "leapt nimbly" and then "went swinging and flaring." Fire "began to gnaw" at the forest. This personification attributes hunger and excited destruction to fire. Just as the boys later become excited to cause destruction, seemingly without pausing to think about the consequences of their actions, so too does the fire here playfully and happily ruin a patch of jungle.
This early forest fire foreshadows the final events of the novel. In chapter 12, Jack's tribe sets fire to part of the forest to try to flush out Ralph.
Now the fire was nearer; those volleying shots were great limbs, trunks even, bursting. The fools! The fools! The fire must be almost at the fruit trees—what would they eat tomorrow?
Ralph hears a sound like "volleying shots," as if the fire is shooting at him, but it's instead the sound of wood splintering because of the fast-burning fire. Remember the playful yet destructive personification of the fire earlier? Now we see the consequences of that kind of "savage" behavior—the fire may kill Ralph today, but Jack and his tribe will have nothing to eat tomorrow. Again, savagery and hotheadedness work against civilization and life.