The Lord of the Chandeliers
In preparation for class tomorrow, I’ve been sticking a multitude of colored stickies into my copy of Lord of the Flies for the last 7 hours (plus re-reading it, marking passages, …) … and this photo matches the mood that the novel left me in, somehow, even though there’s no direct connection (no chandeliers in the novel – no photos of dead pigs forthcoming [I think…]). This cold I’ve been dragging around is also not helping.
Now to spend a little time reading something nice and fluffy before I go to sleep, or who knows what dreams I’ll end up having. The next things to re-read for class (both to be discussed/covered next Tuesday) are Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five and Michael Frayn’s Noises Off!
… and in front of Simon, the Lord of the Flies hung on his stick and grinned. At last Simon gave up and looked back; saw the white teeth and dim eyes, the blood – and his gaze was held by that ancient, inescapable recognition.
William Golding, Lord of the Flies (192f)
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