Scar Island

“He looked up at the grim, crumbling walls of his new home. It looked bad. Just as bad as he deserved.”

From the beginning of the story, 12-year-old Jonathan feels intense guilt and shame over something he did. Jonathan keeps his secret until near the end of the novel, which adds an element of mystery to the story and surprise when the truth is finally revealed.

“The Admiral’s office smelled of waxy candles, sweat, chocolate, and a vague whiff of alcohol.”

The Admiral practices draconian discipline on the boys, rants about society’s softness, and extols the value of a strict work ethic. Yet he sits in his office indulging in sweets and drinking brandy during work hours. This description of his office reveals him to be a hypocrite.

“His nose was the size and shape of an eagle’s beak, and above were two shiny eyes, black as olives, that looked too small for the rest of his face. His eyebrows looked like two monstrous, bushy cockroaches crouched on his forehead.”

This passage is one of several where similes and metaphors are used to describe characters’ appearances and movements to reflect personality traits. Here, the Admiral is cast in a negative light. His small eyes are a reflection and symbol of his narrow-mindedness.

“Well, boys, it is our civilization itself that is sick. It is too tolerant. Too soft. It is … wounded. Bleeding from its rottenness. And you, lads, are the scabs. The bad little bits that nobody wants.”

The Admiral’s character and motivations are revealed as he blames the boys’ troubles on a permissive society. He sees his harsh, punitive treatment of them as necessary to toughen them up and mold them into good citizens.

“So, at Slabhenge, we do not do what other schools do. We do not read stories. We do not talk about your … feelings. We do not play with numbers or write tedious essays about what you did last summer. What you did last summer was get weak and rotten. What you do here is work. You work. And, yes, sometimes you suffer. That, I’m afraid, is the cost of improvement. That is where strength comes from, boys.”

The Admiral enforces an educational approach founded on punitive measures and toxic masculinity instead of healing through cathartic methods. This passage is significant, as Admiral mentions his disdain for reading. Reading becomes an outlet for many of the boys as they see themselves in the books Jonathan brings to them. The reading group has a therapeutic effect, arguing for literacy and education for the troubled students.

“Were any of us really that happy out there? I mean, we’ve got a chance here. We can live here. Without grown-ups. Without rules. Not forever. Just for a while. We could live here—free. Doing whatever we want. [...] Out there we’re just… troublemakers. Punks. Here we could be kings.”

Jonathan convinces Sebastian and then the other boys to stay on the island after the grown-ups have died. His persuasive argument reflects his own view of himself and those with troubled pasts like his. In his immaturity, he entertains the idea of living without judgment, but doesn’t realize he cannot escape the judgment he feels towards himself.

“A key had fallen out of the Admiral’s jacket pocket. It was a big key, rusty and old-fashioned. Jonathan glanced around and shivered. He picked up the key and slipped it into his pocket...”

At this point in the novel, Jonathan demonstrates that he will do anything to guard his secret. He knows the key is for the door to the Admiral’s office, where his file is. He doesn’t want the other boys to know the reason he was sent to Slabhenge, adding to the novel’s tone of foreboding.

“Look around, guys! This whole place belongs to us. We’re the kings. No one to boss us around. No one to get us in trouble. It’s our island now. Ours. We don’t need nobody. ’Cause we’re Scars now. Scars with a capital S. The tough Scars that got left behind. It’s our island.”

Sebastian uses the boys’ thirst for freedom to lure them into embracing the plan to stay on the island without adult supervision. He cleverly creates a new identity for the boys, tying Jonathan’s language of “kings” to one that emphasizes their resilience.

“Sebastian headed out into the courtyard. Benny followed like a puppy at his heels.”

Benny is described through simile as a dog, enhancing the dogged and loyal traits he exhibits to those in power. First, Benny served as the Admiral’s gopher and now he aligns himself with Sebastian. His continued intimidation of Jonathan highlights the fact that while the boys no longer have adult supervision, nothing has really changed.

“It’s this big, awful secret, right? The Hatch, down here in the dark? Well, maybe, once you know it, it’s not all that terrible after all.”

Jonathan is trying to get the other boys to explore the Hatch area with him. Ironically, he projects his hopes about his own secret. It is bigger and darker before it is revealed, and he subconsciously hopes it will not be as terrible to his peers as he thinks it is.

“When Jonathan got back to the light and the world and the rest of the Scars, Sebastian was sitting in the Admiral’s chair with his feet up on the table. In his hands was the Admiral’s sword.”

The regime change is completed as Sebastian utilizes the Admiral’s chair and sword as his own to indicate his authority over the rest of the boys. Sebastian reflects the consequences of Jonathan’s suggestion to inhabit the island on their own as he grabs power to gain control over the group. This transition marks Sebastian’s descent into a tyrannical figure, just like the Admiral.

“What about the mail boat? [...] Well… so… we’ll need something to give to it, right? Wouldn’t it be suspicious if we didn’t?”

Jonathan proves to be a mastermind, logically thinking through upcoming issues that could reveal the adults’ deaths. As Sebastian continues his reactionary leadership, ruling in fear and violence, Jonathan foils him as both represent the possible roles that are available to the boys as they navigate the island’s operations on their own.

“They all listened together to the story of a man trapped on an island, far from his family. The story held them together like the light from their candles, warm and close against the dark stone and shadows.”

Where Sebastian inspires division and fear, Jonathan reads Robinson Crusoe to the other boys and brings them together. The success of his reading group brings him allies and helps establish him as a leader. As the boys see themselves in the story, reading is presented as an alternative therapy for the troubled boys.

“The sea, my boy. It is. The sea itself. Behind that ancient door.”

One of many secrets—the secret behind The Hatch—is revealed in the narrative, reflecting Jonathan’s hope that once a secret is found out, it isn’t so bad. The librarian tells him that The Hatch holds back the sea, further characterizing the body of water as an element of agency within the novel.

“His words would never make his parents feel better, he knew. Benny was right. With trembling fingertips he felt the burns on his arms through his sleeves. Then he bent down and knelt on the punishing edge.”

Jonathan’s voluntary subjection to The Sinner’s Sorrow after submitting his daily letter highlights the guilt he feels and reflects his opinion of himself. Benny’s words have a damaging effect on Jonathan, and only serve to further his self-torment, demonstrating the damage his secret continues to wreak until it is revealed, and he can be at peace.

“I know you told me not to say sorry. You told me I wasn’t allowed to say sorry anymore. For what happened to her. But I have to. [...] I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. Please give my love to Sophia.”

In this letter home to his parents, Jonathan shows he is unable to forgive himself yet. His self-esteem is revealed to be at an all-time low, and his parents’ side is seen as he responds to their letter received the day before. The repetition of Jonathan’s apologies serves to further the tone of shame and despair.

“Someone has to be the boss. Someone has to make it work. How else do you make everyone write a letter? How else do you make sure no one tells the boat guys? How else do you get people to feed the furnace? Huh? How do you make it all work otherwise?”

In this passage, Sebastian justifies his authoritarian approach to enforcing Jonathan’s ideas. He ironically believes he must exact totalitarian rule, like the Admiral, to keep the boys free from adult supervision. Jonathan continues to foil Sebastian as he meets him with uncertainty and apathy.

“Thunder booms like cannon shots rattled the glass. The courtyard was a rain-lashed lake, reflecting the violent white cracks of lightning above. The wind shrieked between Slabhenge’s tall towers like an army of furious ghosts.”

The storm gradually becomes the ultimate outside intruder. Similes describe the storm and nod to the island’s long history of violence and death. As the storm rages, a sense of urgency builds within the novel’s tone.

“I can do it, he told himself. [...] I can save her! He shook his head and slid his fingers between the taut ropes. I can save him, he corrected himself.”

While Jonathan is diving into the water to save Colin, he confuses his pronouns as he thinks about his sister, whom he could not save from the fire. In rescuing Colin from drowning, Jonathan receives a metaphorical second chance and begins his own path to redeeming himself in his own eyes.

“I am a lunatic. Not an idiot. I go at night. To the kitchen. It’s been terribly messy [...] And ice cream is my favorite food. It’s kept. In the freezer. Of course.”

The only adult who maintains a benevolent presence on the island is the librarian, who supplies Jonathan with literature to read to the rest of the boys. He serves as a voice for the island itself and takes on an all-knowing and unphased approach to the boys and their activities. This passage reveals that, though they desired to be isolated, and kings of the island, the boys were never truly alone and without adult supervision.

“Tell them, Jonathan. If you tell them, they’ll believe you. They’ll follow you. You can thave [save] them.”

The power of secrets comes to a head as Colin urges Jonathan to reveal his own secrets and tragic past. In this revelation, Colin knows that Jonathan will regain the respect of their peers while achieving the redemption of his own self-esteem and guilt. Colin attaches this revelation not only to saving Jonathan, but to saving the rest of their peers in the process as well, illustrating the gravity of staying quiet.

“I didn’t start the fire. I woke up. And I heard her screaming. And I ran downstairs. But … the fire was too big. Too hot. I couldn’t get to her. I tried. I tried so hard.”

Jonathan reveals what happened the night his sister died, and he was charged for arson, leading him to Slabhenge. He begins by acknowledging that he had no role in starting the fire, and ends with his admission that he tried so hard to save her, illustrating the guilt and responsibility he still claims for his sister’s death.

“‘You wanna know why I never wrote letters?’ Sebastian asked. ‘Because there was no one to send them to. I got no parents. I got no family. I’ve spent my whole life in places like this. Or orphanages. Group homes. Foster homes.’”a

At the end of the novel, Sebastian reveals his secret as well, uncovering his motives for keeping the boys isolated on the island together. Although he never apologizes for being a bully, the other boys forgive him when they hear about his difficult life. He redeems himself by agreeing to let Jonathan lead and working with him to light the lighthouse so that the boys will be rescued.