How would I myself live in this proposed society? How long would it be before I went stark staring mad?

This is our island. It's a good island. Until the grownups come to fetch us we'll have fun.

Which is better -- to be a pack of painted Indians like you are, or to be sensible like Ralph is? Which is better -- to have rules and agree, or to hunt and kill? Which is better, law and rescue, or hunting and breaking things up?

Worse than madness. Sanity.

I know there isn't no beast—not with claws and all that, I mean—but I know there isn't no fear, either." Piggy paused. "Unless—" Ralph moved restlessly. "Unless what?" "Unless we get frightened of people.

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against this as a method, but it is not what English writers do.

The novel is very much alive, indeed. In Toronto at the Sixth Annual International Festival of Authors (October 1985) I listened to novelists by the dozen.