William Golding didn’t just write a book about some stranded schoolboys. He wrote a nightmare. If you’ve ever sat through a high school English class, you probably remember the basics: the conch, the glasses, the fire. But the most visceral, disgusting image in the whole story is the one that gives the book its name. We're talking about the Lord of the Flies flies—those buzzing, metallic-green scavengers swarming over a rotting pig's head on a stick. It’s gross. It’s sticky. Honestly, it’s the moment the novel shifts from an adventure story into a psychological horror show.
Most people think the "Lord of the Flies" is just a nickname for the pig. That’s partly true. But the flies themselves are the real connective tissue between the boys' decaying morality and the physical decay of the island. When Jack and his hunters shove that sow's head onto a sharpened stake as an offering to "The Beast," they aren't just being superstitious. They're inviting the swarm.
The Lord of the Flies Flies and the Beelzebub Connection
The name "Lord of the Flies" isn't just a creative title Golding pulled out of thin air. It’s a literal translation of the Hebrew word Ba'al Zevuv, or Beelzebub. In demonology and various religious texts, Beelzebub is a prince of demons, often associated with filth, decay, and, obviously, flies.
Golding was a veteran of World War II. He saw things. He saw what humans do to each other when the rules vanish. By naming the pig's head—and the swarm surrounding it—the Lord of the Flies, he was making a direct link between the boys' descent into savagery and an ancient, primal evil. But here’s the kicker: the evil isn't a ghost or a monster living in a cave.
It’s inside them.
When Simon hallucinates and speaks to the head, the Lord of the Flies flies are described as a "black blob of flies" that tickle his forehead and drink his sweat. It’s an intimate kind of horror. The flies represent the chaotic, unthinking masses that follow power and blood. They don't care about Ralph’s rules or the conch. They just want to feed. This mirrors how the younger boys, the "littluns," start to drift away from civilization toward Jack’s primal, violent tribe.
Why the Flies Matter More Than the Pig
Think about how flies behave. They don't have a plan. They don't have a leader. They just react to the scent of death. In the novel, the more the boys give in to their violent impulses, the more "food" they provide for the flies.
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The sow’s head is static. It’s dead. It’s the flies that give it the illusion of life. Golding writes about how the "pile of guts" was a "black blob" because of the sheer density of the insects. This is where the symbolism gets heavy. The flies are the "followers." They are the easy path. It’s easy to be a fly—you just go where the heat is. You go where the blood is.
Simon is the only one who really gets this. While the other boys are terrified of a physical beast—a "snake-thing" or a dead parachutist—Simon realizes that the real Lord of the Flies is the inherent cruelty in human nature. He stares at those flies and realizes they are inescapable. You can’t kill the flies. You can only choose not to be one of them.
The Physicality of the Swarm
Golding’s prose is incredibly sensory. He doesn't just say there were flies; he makes you hear the hum. He makes you feel the "infinite cynicism" of the pig’s grinning mouth. The Lord of the Flies flies represent the breakdown of the physical body and the social body simultaneously.
- The Smell: The heat of the island accelerates the rotting process.
- The Sound: A "low hum" that sounds like a warning.
- The Sight: Iridescent wings against a backdrop of gore.
It’s a stark contrast to the beginning of the book. Remember the "creepers" and the bright birds? The island starts as a paradise. It ends as a charnel house. The transition is marked by the arrival of the swarm. When Jack’s tribe kills the sow, they aren't just hunting for food. They are performing a ritual. They leave the head for the beast, but the only thing that shows up is the flies.
Simon’s Encounter: A Psychological Breaking Point
The scene where Simon "talks" to the head is one of the most famous in 20th-century literature. It’s also where the Lord of the Flies flies are most prominent. Simon is a "Christ-figure" in many interpretations, but he’s also just a kid with epilepsy who is having a massive seizure brought on by heat, dehydration, and trauma.
The "Lord" tells Simon, "Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill!" The head, covered in flies, mocks him. It tells him that he’s not wanted. This isn't just a hallucination; it’s a realization. Simon understands that the "Beast" is the boys themselves. The flies are the evidence of that internal rot manifesting in the real world.
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What Most People Get Wrong About the Ending
A lot of readers think the rescue at the end is a happy one. A naval officer shows up, the boys stop crying, and everyone goes home.
Nope.
The officer is a soldier. He’s part of a much bigger, much more violent war happening in the outside world. He looks at the boys and is disappointed that "British boys" couldn't put up a better show. But he’s standing there in a uniform, ready to go back to his ship and drop bombs on people.
The Lord of the Flies flies have won. The cycle of violence isn't staying on the island. It’s everywhere. The flies on the pig’s head are just a smaller version of the planes in the sky. It’s all the same "business."
The Persistence of the Symbol
Why do we still talk about this book? Why do these flies still matter? Because Golding tapped into a universal truth that we hate to admit. Society is a thin veneer. It’s a crust. Underneath it, there’s a lot of buzzing and biting.
In modern terms, you can see the "Lord of the Flies" effect in online mobs, in political polarization, and in any situation where people stop thinking as individuals and start acting like a swarm. The Lord of the Flies flies are the original "viral" phenomenon—unthinking, destructive, and attracted to the worst parts of our nature.
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How to Analyze the Text Like a Pro
If you’re writing an essay or just trying to sound smart at a book club, don't just say "the flies mean evil." That’s boring. Look at the specific interactions.
- Look at the light. Golding often mentions the "shifting light" and how it plays off the flies' wings. This suggests that evil isn't always dark; sometimes it’s bright, shiny, and attractive.
- Note the silence. The flies make a hum, but they also create a "space" of silence around them. Simon’s interaction happens in a "clearing" that feels separated from the rest of the world.
- The Pig’s Grin. The pig is "smiling" because its skin is shrinking as it dries. The flies are crawling in and out of that smile. It’s the ultimate image of "cynicism"—the idea that nothing matters except the urge to consume.
Actionable Insights for Reading Golding
If you're revisiting the text, pay attention to the transition of the insects. In the beginning, there are butterflies. They follow Simon. They represent beauty and the ephemeral nature of peace. As the book progresses, the butterflies disappear, replaced entirely by the Lord of the Flies flies.
This shift is the "tell." When the butterflies leave, the hope leaves.
Final Thoughts on the Swarm
The flies aren't the villains of the story. They're just doing what flies do. The tragedy of Lord of the Flies is that the boys—civilized, educated, "proper" boys—become the very thing that attracts them. They provide the rot. They provide the carnage.
To understand the book, you have to look past the pig. You have to look at the movement around it. The Lord of the Flies flies are the most honest characters in the novel. They don't pretend to be anything they aren't. They are the physical manifestation of the impulse to destroy, and they remind us that the line between a schoolboy and a savage is much thinner than we’d like to believe.
Next Steps for Deepening Your Understanding:
- Read the "Gift for the Darkness" chapter again. Focus specifically on the verbs Golding uses to describe the flies. They don't just "fly"; they "blacken," "settle," and "becloud."
- Research the context of 1954. Golding wrote this during the Cold War. The flies represent the looming threat of nuclear "decay" and the feeling that humanity was circling the drain.
- Compare the flies to the "Beast from Air." Look at how the dead parachutist is also consumed by the island’s elements, showing that the "adult world" is just as susceptible to the swarm as the children are.