There are a great deal of instances of violence in Rober Cormier’s The Chocolate War. Below you will find examples of most (if not all) of them, classified according to the situation and / or location.
Teacher-student violence:
– “Leon pushed Archie up against the wall as the boys begun to fill the corridor…” (p.71)
Gang violence at school:
– “ ‘That’s enough out of you, Rollo,’ Carter said. Simultaneously, his hand shot out and struck Rollo in the jaw. Rollo’s head snapped back – snap like a knuckle cracking – and he bellowed with pain. As Rollo lifted his hands to his face in tardy defense, carter’s fist sank sickeningly into his stomach. Rollo groaned and retched, doubled over, clutching himself in disbelief, gasping for breath. He was shoved from behind, and dropped to the floor coughing and spitting, crawling on all fours.” (pp.171-172)
Violence on the football field:
– “Suddenly, he was struck from behind, a vicious blow to his kidneys, sickening in its impact. His knees caved in and he sank to the ground again. As he attempted to run around to find out who had attacked him, another blow landed, some place, and Jerry felt himself hurtling off/balance to the ground. He felt his eyes watering, tears spilling onto his cheeks. He looked around and saw the fellows getting into position for the next play.” (p.179)
Violence in and outside school:
– “It was a familiar voice – the voice of all the bullies in the world, Haevey Cranch who used to wait for Jerry outside the third grade at S. John’s and Eddie Herman at summer camp who delighted in the small tortures he inflicted on the younger kids and the complete stranger who knocked him down at the circus one summer and tore the ticket from his hand.” (p.198)
Violence outside school:
– “Jerry figured he knew the meaning of Janza’s light tap – Janza was aching for action, contact, violence. And he was getting impatient. But he didn’t want to start the fight himself. He wanted to provoke Jerry into beginning – that’s the way bullies worked so they could be held blameless after the slaughter. Her started it, they’d claim. Strangely enough, Jerry felt as though he could actually beat Janza in a fight. He could feel a gathering outrage that promised strength and endurance.” (pp.200-201)
– “More coming now, five or six others, slipping into view from behind a cluster of pine trees, and before Jerry could gird himself for a fight or even raise his arms in defense, they were swarming all over him, hitting him high and low, tumbling him to the ground as if he was some kind of helpless Gulliver. A dozen fists pummeled his body, fingernails ore at his cheeks and a finger clawed at his eye. They wanted to blind him. They wanted to kill him. Pain arrowed in his groin – somebody had kicked him there. The blows rained upon him without mercy, with no let-up, and he tried to curl up and make himself small, hiding his face but somebody was pounding his head furiously, stop, stop, another kick in his groin and he couldn’t hold down the vomit now, it was coming and he tried to open his mouth to let it spray forth. As he threw up, they let him go, someone yelled “Jesus” in disgust and they withdrew. He could hear their gasps, their running feet receding although somebody stayed behind to kick him again, this time in his lower back, the final sheet of pain that drew a black curtain over his eyes.” (p.203)
Violence in school:
– “But he didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want to return to grammar school violence, the cherished honor of the schoolyard that wasn’t honor at all, the necessity of proving yourself by bloody noses and black eyes and broken teeth.” (p.201)
– “Approaching the stairs, he felt himself pushed from behind and he pitched forward, off balance. He began to fall, the stairs slanting dangerously before him.” (p.215)
– “They would have to fight the way guys in the bleachers directed them. Everybody who bought a ticket – and who could refuse? – had a chance to be involved n the fight, to watch two guys battering each other while they were at a safe distance, with no danger of getting hurt.” (p.230)
– “… and the kid whose written blow is the one that ends the fight, either by knockout or surrender, receives the prize…” (237)
– “Jerry hunched his shoulders, cocked his fist. He had been waiting for this moment […] Jerry sent his fist sailing toward Janza’s jaw, but he had swung too quickly, without sufficient aim. The blow almost missed its target, finally brushing Janza’s jaw ineffectually.” (p. 238)
– “He struck Jerry with all the force he could summon, the impact of the blow coming from his feet, up through his legs and thighs, the trunk of his body, the power pulsing through his body like some elemental force until it erupted through his arm, exploding into his fist.
Jerry had girded himself for the blow but it took him by surprise with its savagery and viciousness. The entire planet was jarred for a moment, the stadium swaying, the lights dancing. The pain in his neck was excruciating – his head had snapped back from the impact of Janza’s fist. Sent reeling backward, he fought to stay on his feet and he somehow managed not to fall. His jaw was on fire, he tasted acid. Blood, maybe. But he pressed his lips together. He shook his head, quick vision-clearing shakings and established himself in the world once more.” (p.239)
– “Before he could gather himself together again, Carter’s voice cried out ‘Janza, right to the stomach’ and Janza struck without warning, a short sharp blow that missed Jerry’s stomach but caught hi in the chest. His breath went away, like it did in football, and then came back again. But the blow had lacked the power of the uppercut. He crouched again, fists erected, waiting for the next instructions.” (pp. 239-240)
– “The next raffle ticket gave Jerry his chance to strike back at Janza. A kid Jerry had never heard of – someone named Arthur Robilard – called for a right cross. Whatever that was. Jerry had only a vague idea but he wanted to hit Janza now, to repay him for that first vicious blow. He cocked his right arm. He tasted bile in his mouth. He let his arm go. The glove struck Janza full face and Janza staggered back. The result surprised Jerry. He had never struck anyone like that before, in furry, premeditated, and he’d enjoyed catapulting all his power toward the target, the release of all his frustrations, hitting back at last, lashing out, getting revenge finally, revenge not only against Janza but all that he represented.
Janza’s eyes leaped with surprise at the strength behind Jerry’s blow. His immediate reaction was to counterpunch but he held himself in control.
Carter’s voice. ‘Janza. Left uppercut.’
Gain, the quick jolting neck-snapping pain as Janza, without pause or preparation, struck out. Jerry back-pedaled weakly. Why should his knees give was when the blow struck his jaw?” (p.240)
– “At the words, Janza aimed for Jerry’s pelvic area. Jerry saw the fist coming. He raised his fists and looked toward carter, sensing something was wrong. Janza’s fist sand into his lower stomach but Jerry had deflected part of the force of the blow. […] They only saw that Jerry had tried to defend himself, and that was against the rules. ‘Kill’im, Janza,’ a voice cried from the crowd.” (p.241)
– “Janza let his fists fly in a flurry of violence, hitting Renault almost at will, on the head, the cheeks, once in the stomach.” (p.241)
– “Jerry did his best to build defenses against Janza’s fists but it was impossible. Janza was too strong and too fast, all instinct, sensing a kill. Finally, Jerry covered his head and face with the gloves, letting the blows rain on him, but waiting, waiting. The crowd was in turmoil now, shouting, jeering, urging Janza on.
One more shot at Janza, that’s what Jerry wanted. Crouching, absorbing the attack, Jerry waited. There was something wrong with his jaw, the pain was intense, but he didn’t care if he could hit Janza again, renew that earlier beautiful punch. He was being hit everywhere now and the crowd noises leaped to life as if someone had turned up the volume on a monstrous stereo.” (pp.241-242)
– “And that was when Jerry saw his opening. Through the pain and his nausea, he saw Janza’s chest and stomach unprotected. He swung – and it was beautiful again. The full force of all his strength and determination and revenge caught Janza unguarded, off balance. Janza staggered backward, surprise and pain rampant on his face.” (p.242)
– “Janza’s fist caught him at the temple, sending Jerry reeling. His stomach caved in as Janza’s fist sank into the flesh. He clutched at his stomach protectively and his face absorbed two stunning blows – his left eye smashed, the pupil crushed. His body sang with pain.
Horrified, The Goober counted the punches Janza was throwing at his helpless opponent. Fifteen, sixteen. He leaped to his fee. Stop it, stop it. But nobody heard. His voice was lost in the thunder of screaming voices, voices calling for the kill… kill him, kill him. Goober watched helplessly as Jerry finally sank to the stage, bloody, opened mouth, sucking for air, eyes unfocused, flesh swollen. His body was poised for a moment like some wounded animals and then he collapsed like a hunk of meat cut loose from a butcher’s hook.” (p.243)
