Golding's account of descents into darkness and evil is a compelling, disturbing and even nightmareish read. It picks up three characters - a spoilt, ignored and amoral girl, a horribly scarred but supernaturally endowed boy, and an aging paedophile already far down the path to dissolution.
This book makes Camus' 'La Chute' seem relatively virtuous and innocent. At the same time, Golding has a strong and mature moral purpose.
Darkness Visible is far more accessible than Pincher Martin or the Spire, and reads a lot like novels are traditionally supposed to - even as far as having an action climax with a kidnapping and a terrorist. At the same time, the overriding but undefined whiff of the supernatural is at odds with most other modernist writers, as is the moral layer.
Morally speaking, this book has a lot in common with 'Moll Flanders'. Defoe's classic novel of mistressing and prostitution is principally known for its explicit debauchery, even though Defoe ostensibly wrote it as a tract about Christian repentance. In the same way, many readers may find that they get rather closer to corruption and evil than they want as 'Darkness Visible' makes its way to its moral conclusions.
This is a rewarding book from a literary point of view. Golding experiments with a range of literary voices, ranging from an extraordinarily Dickensian emporium to pages which could have come straight from 'Women in Love'.
Unusually for Golding, who typically writes about confined worlds (an island, a cathedral close, an Egyptian city, a row of teeth) Darkness Visible swings us right the way round the world for a tour of Australia before returning us to an English prep school. This book is also expansive in time, beginning in the Second World War and moving through to the 1970s.
I felt completely wrung through from reading this. I found it the most rewarding of all the Golding novels, but, at the same time, I really didn't want to read it again.
Some things are, perhaps, only meant to be experienced once.