<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485</id><updated>2011-07-07T16:52:28.516-07:00</updated><category term='Faulkner&apos;s Identity exposed in Soldiers&apos; Pay'/><category term='Tierney M. Donovan'/><title type='text'>blognapatawpha</title><subtitle type='html'>Responses to the writing and the world of William Faulkner.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>BE</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00901866510534893687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>105</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-1179075691361125945</id><published>2010-05-01T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-01T19:07:18.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Minnie and Emily: Peas in a Pod</title><content type='html'>Miss Minnie Cooper in "Dry September" and Miss Emily Pierson in "A Rose for Miss Emily" are very similar in so many ways. Faulkner nearly recreated Miss Emily in a more youthful manner when presenting Miss Minnie. Both have a nonexistent social life and are bound by social position in their small town. However, they are different because Miss Emily never yearned for a social or romantic life that Miss Minnie longed for. Miss Minnie was not only in need of a social life, but also a romantic life. She wanted attention in all aspects. She vied for the attention of those in her community, especially from men.&lt;br /&gt;Both Miss Minnie and Miss Emily are tragic characters in Faulkner's short stories. Miss Minnie is tragic because she seems to be stuck in her own little fantasy world engulfed in a life of social privilige and image. She's unable to see her wrongful actions in accusing Will Mayes of raping her. Miss Emily is a tragic character become she was left to live a corpse like existence without the company of anyone but her dead husband she slept with every night.&lt;br /&gt;Both characters are two peas in a pod. Even though Miss Emily is a more exaggerated version of Miss Minnie, she both still fit in the same category. Maybe Miss Emily's case was more drastic because she comes from a family of more prestige in her community, therefore she had to adhere to harsher social norms.&lt;br /&gt;Faulkner made me fall in love with his short stories all over again while reading "Dry September" after "A Rose for Emily." He reigns supreme with his short stories.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-1179075691361125945?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/1179075691361125945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/05/minnie-and-emily-peas-in-pod.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1179075691361125945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1179075691361125945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/05/minnie-and-emily-peas-in-pod.html' title='Minnie and Emily: Peas in a Pod'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06218241246620610109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__S7ZPeHLXEU/S2n3DMencoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/JqreuJtjWRQ/S220/Kristen+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-6790134310281426610</id><published>2010-04-27T21:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T22:08:09.369-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor, Poor Nancy: That Evening Sun Go Down</title><content type='html'>While reading "That Evening Sun Go Down," I wanted to cry because the character Nancy struck me with so much sadness and sympathy. Nancy reminded me of the old slave mentality that many abused and broken spirited African Americans had. She didn't view herself as being equal to or as important as her white counterparts and employers. Throughout the story I just wanted to give her a hug and let her know that she was worth much more than what she claimed to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could compare Nancy to many other literary characters in novels. For example, Pecola in &lt;em&gt;The Bluest Eye &lt;/em&gt;had the same broken spirit and lack of self esteem that Nancy had. When Nancy said, "I'm just a nigger!" it reminded me of the self hatred Pecola had throughout &lt;em&gt;The Bluest Eye &lt;/em&gt;as she searched for ways to make her eyes blue like the little white Shirley Temple she admired. Both Nancy and Pecola represent that self hatred many African Americans harbor within themselves because of racial prejudice in society that formed their view of themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faulkner did a great job with tapping into a woman like Nancy. Even though it would be hard for Faulkner to precisely capture the essence of a black women living in a world of racial prejudice, he did a great job with providing imagery into her situation. I give this one a thumbs up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-6790134310281426610?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/6790134310281426610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/poor-poor-nancy-that-evening-sun-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6790134310281426610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6790134310281426610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/poor-poor-nancy-that-evening-sun-go.html' title='Poor, Poor Nancy: That Evening Sun Go Down'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06218241246620610109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__S7ZPeHLXEU/S2n3DMencoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/JqreuJtjWRQ/S220/Kristen+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-5108929806322933660</id><published>2010-04-21T15:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T16:01:42.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty Unheard by the Audience</title><content type='html'>The most touching part of Faulkner's Nobel speech, to me, was when he mentioned the "conflicts of the heart" that are the only things worth writing about.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To me, this is not only true to Faulkner's style, but true in general. It may be true when people say that there is "nothing new under the sun" but that's a limited statement, and Faulkner shows us why. Perhaps the only thing worth writing about is something that is perpetuated in each of us over and over and over, but that doesn't mean we're always writing about the same thing. Faulkner definitely stuck true to his general knowledge, and didn't write about things that he wasn't well saturated in, or things he didn't care about. This produced a body of work so vast, and so beautiful. If he would have attempted to solve all the world's problems, essentially, in his works instead of just writing about what HE cared about, it probably wouldn't be as eloquent or mean as much to an audience. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Writers today, I feel, are often trying to overstep their knowledge range in order to produce what they have in mind to be the new "great american novel." However, going about it that way turns it into a false feat. Like I said before, the reason Faulkner created what he created is because he wrote what was inside of him, what he knew, and what he loved. Even though there are a number of made-up characters and situations, Faulkner wrote his &lt;i&gt;truths&lt;/i&gt;. Even when he wrote about the slaves and had a very limited view of the slaves he wrote about, his limited knowledge was, in itself, a truth. He didn't pretend to know more than he did. He didn't try to create a false south. The south bled on all of Faulkner's pages with horror and sadness and death—and also beauty and magic and love. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When Faulkner says "until he learns these things, he will write as though he stood among and watched the end of man" he means that until a writer starts writing what's in his heart, what he cares about, the whole saying that there's "nothing new under the sun" assumes it's presumed fatalistic meaning, and the world of writing is over. Not to say that experimentation is wrong, we can see clearly Faulkner experimented with style and narration and broke all sorts of grammar rules. Also, just because someone is from a certain region in no way limits them to that certain region like Faulkner only wrote about the south. What he's trying to say, though, is don't tell lies on paper. A writer has to basically strip themselves naked in front of their audience, and Faulkner doesn't want writers who claim that they're naked but still have concealed or changed parts of their body. He could see through them, and in this speech, is urging us all to disrobe entirely.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-5108929806322933660?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/5108929806322933660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/beauty-unheard-by-audience.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5108929806322933660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5108929806322933660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/beauty-unheard-by-audience.html' title='Beauty Unheard by the Audience'/><author><name>ryan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17916865495945928931</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Lt9_ldiTBo/S1m-vhSQ5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/viltX7a9cT0/S220/falk.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-7351162979961326586</id><published>2010-04-21T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T15:42:24.181-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tierney M. Donovan'/><title type='text'>The Reivers</title><content type='html'>I have been re-reading &lt;em&gt;As I Lay Dying&lt;/em&gt; for my paper, so reading &lt;em&gt;The Reivers&lt;/em&gt; at the same time really kind of highlighted how different it is from the his others. It reminded me of this movie I used to watch when I was younger, The Journey of Natty Gann, but I don't really know why. I guess it was the time period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This book reminded me of Huck Finn, and I think that was the intention. With the characters, the young boy and Ned on adventures. It was so much lighter and even funny, and it's striking that this was his last novel. Of all of the things that could have closed out with, it's a comical, light-hearted adventure book. I would have preferred more on the Compsons or the Bundrens, but this was fine. I don't know how he died, so I don't know if he knew this would be the last. Since he had written about so much heavy, sometimes dark stuff about the human condition, it's almost sweet that this is his last. And to make it about a young boy who is put into some strange situations, some pretty questionable. It was good. I don't want to use the word "cute." But it was kind of cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In true Faulkner fashion, though, some of the sentences were long and meandering, and initially, I had a hard time breaking past the first few chapters. I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is kid of off, but my paper is focusing on animals and so it was interesting how a horse came into this one again, as in &lt;em&gt;As I Lay Dying,&lt;/em&gt; and how it was an important figure in the novel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After reading this, I felt a great sense of accomplishment. All that Faulkner. It's nice to be done, though.  I just got &lt;em&gt;Absalom, Absalom!&lt;/em&gt; on cd  and plan on listening to it and sharing how great it is with my boyfriend on the two week road trip we'll be embarking on in May. I think I will be revisiting a few of his novels, for sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-7351162979961326586?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/7351162979961326586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/reivers.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7351162979961326586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7351162979961326586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/reivers.html' title='The Reivers'/><author><name>Tierney Donovan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05923801274619800137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-1446682984309090042</id><published>2010-04-21T15:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T15:02:32.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminscening on a new Faulkner</title><content type='html'>I’m not sure what to say about The Reivers.  It was Faulkner’s last novel and the winner of a Nobel Prize in literature.  For a book that was, in a sense, Faulkner’s coup de grace, it is uncharacteristically Faulkner.  The style is off, the tone is too light, and the novel was overall too happy to be the Faulkner I know.  This doesn’t mean that I didn’t enjoy the novel.  I’m a fan of the picaresque novel and believe that it is the dominant form of epic in modernity, so this may have been Faulkner’s step toward an epic (attempting to tie and tie up characters and story lines from his Yoknapatawpha), but this jaunty, reminiscent, “story” is unlike Faulkner from days gone by.&lt;br /&gt; The Reivers does, in fact, carry the markings of Faulknerian novels.  It is plagued with convoluted run-on sentences, long and winding paragraphs, and a not-quite but almost stream of consciousness narrative.  But the overall effect of the novel is just not like Faulkner’s other novels, like The Sound and the Fury or Absalom, Absalom!  It is the story of two members of the McCaslin/Edmonds family from Go Down Moses—Lucius Priest and the black servant/relative Ned NcCaslin—,along with a family retainer—Boon Hogganbeck, also mentioned in Go Down Moses—who steal a car and head to Memphis.  Boon wants to go to the city to woo a prostitute, Luscius, only eleven at the time, goes with Boon, and Ned hides out in the back of the car.  Once in Memphis, Boon begins to court Miss Corrie, Luscius comes of age and must grapple with his turmoil over explaining what he see with the way he was raised, and Ned sells the car they stole to buy a horse in the hopes of racing it and earning money.  The majority of the plot is somewhat irrelevant to my point, so I’ll skip to the end.  Luscius’ grandfather, the owner of the car, finds the boys in Memphis.  Ned, slyly playing the old man, bets against his own horse in a second race and purposely loses.  The whole story ends on the happy note that Boon and his prostitute Miss Corrie have married and have named their first child after Luscius.  This “it all works out in the end” feeling is so unlike Faulkner that it is almost jarring to the avid reader.  The Reivers was a best seller, adapted later in a film, and think that attests to that fact that it is somehow different that Faulkner’s other works.  It is easier to read and relate to than most of the novels we have read so far.&lt;br /&gt; That being said, I still believe that The Reivers is a great work.  Luscius Priest’s monologues on virtue, his idea of women, and his conception of smart animals make him a highly complex and intelligent character.  I would like to someday take a more in-depth look at Luscius, as his role of narrator of the story adds a great deal to his character than I believe a lot of people see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-1446682984309090042?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/1446682984309090042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/reminscening-on-new-faulkner.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1446682984309090042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1446682984309090042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/reminscening-on-new-faulkner.html' title='Reminscening on a new Faulkner'/><author><name>Rebekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00635182202111734458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-1938985333066742006</id><published>2010-04-21T14:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T15:02:42.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faulkner's View...Noble Speech</title><content type='html'>Since this blog is entitled “Responses to the writing and the world of William Faulkner”, I am going to dedicate my last post to Faulkner’s Noble Prize Speech.  Because this speech is as much part of the world of Faulkner, as this week’s reading &lt;em&gt;The Reivers&lt;/em&gt;, and I believe it was Ms. Ethridge, who said at the beginning, this course will be used to interpret the different personalities of Faulkner through his work. The speech is given to Faulkner as a life time achievement award for his work so I thought its relevance is undeniable to understanding Faulkner as well as his work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His Noble Prize speech brought so many things together for me. It seemed as if many others, whom have read his fiction, took Faulkner’s pessimist to heart. Like some of us, they viewed Faulkner only from the surface. They saw him as an author, who viewed life and man in general, as victims of idiocy by our own making due to us ignoring “the problems of the human heart.” However, this was not who Faulkner was at all; in fact, he was a man, who very much believed in the spirit and compassion of man to carry himself through hard times such as the radical transformation of the south after the Civil War or what the south was to its inhabitants before the war. Faulkner was merely documenting a time and place (Yoknapatawpha County) in history that was relative to him, and to us all since the Civil War deeply affected the U.S.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believed that doom and gloom were simply themes that Faulkner explored on his path to self discovery that as writer he must not forget about the problems that the human heart endure or that the basis of all things is to be afraid; therefore, to leave no room for anything but the old verities and truth of the heart. Faulkner must have gone through these things himself in order to offer such in depth advice about where one should find inspiration to write. I know that the human heart takes on different identities, thus speaking to us in a voice that is not always familiar, yet we go along and discover another part of ourselves or craft. This is what I believe Faulkner went through when he wrote using the writing technique stream of consciousness. Because he was so trusting to undergo this transformation he got really good at it, and people mistakenly believed this was the real William Faulkner, when really he was just playing part in order to tell that character’s story. Faulkner happily did his duty as wanna-be poet/novelist by prompting man, through his work, to endure and prevail. I never viewed Faulkner as pessimistic. I definitly felt at times that I only captured a glance of what he was doing,but after reading this speech it widen my view, more than any criticism, about what was one of his many aims were.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-1938985333066742006?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/1938985333066742006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/faulkners-viewnoble-speech.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1938985333066742006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1938985333066742006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/faulkners-viewnoble-speech.html' title='Faulkner&apos;s View...Noble Speech'/><author><name>Teresha Ussin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11516516409341345426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3215473731548964253</id><published>2010-04-21T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T11:48:33.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faulkner's reminiscence</title><content type='html'>This book, The Reivers: A Reminiscence, is the starkest shift in Faulkner's style that I have noticed since that occurring between Soldiers' Pay and Mosquitoes and the Sound &amp;amp; the Fury. It seems that the reason behind this may be the fact that it is a first-person account, narrated as a story. Of course, The Sound &amp;amp; the Fury was primarily in first-person, and As I Lay Dying was completely first-person. But each of these were lacking the light-hearted, story-telling quality seen in The Reivers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that this novel is told as a story perfectly complements its status as a "Reminiscence." The main character is spanning his coming-of-age years, while also, at times, giving the reader (or, in this case, listener would perhaps be a better designation) an explanation of years prior and beyond. I was rather touched by the fact that Faulkner referred to this novel as a reminiscence. So many of our old Yoknapatawpha friends and acquaintances were mentioned, especially those mentioned in Go Down, Moses. It seems that not only was the main character, Lucius Priest, reminiscing, but Faulker himself was revisiting those old friends and histories, while musing on potentialities of the future, of Yoknapatawpha County.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, this book was also the most technologically aware of Faulkner's, at least as far as I can tell. Not only do Faulkner's characters venture to the city for a large portion of the novel, but there is a long explanation of the first automobile in Jefferson. Henry Ford is even mentioned, giving the first link (that I have noticed) to a prominient figure from the known-world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found the character of Boon Hogganback an interesting one, at least in his relation to the automobile. Boon pretty much just appears out of the wilderness. He seems to belong to the wild in a sense: he materialized from there, he has a sensitivity to the horses he handles at the livery. But, by golly, he is the first to jump on the automobile bandwagon. Perhaps he represents something in the shift from the natural to the progressive?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3215473731548964253?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3215473731548964253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/faulkners-reminiscence.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3215473731548964253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3215473731548964253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/faulkners-reminiscence.html' title='Faulkner&apos;s reminiscence'/><author><name>MorganMiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10469250277763703536</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-6991867294335632726</id><published>2010-04-21T10:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T10:49:06.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Power of Myth &amp; The Bear</title><content type='html'>Obviously there's a lot of myth in southern writing, especially Faulkner's, and I feel like whenever animals are present, the "mythical nature" is heavily present as well. We have now read two stories where a person encounters a snake and says: "Grandfather," and I think this should be explored.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is it about snakes? What is it about grandfathers? What is it about always personifying animals? Does it make them mean more to us? Can we understand them better this way? Do certain animals represent parts of us, or parts of our world? Have they always?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I believe that Faulkner's use of "grandfather" particularly in The Bear, but also in Red Leaves, is an act of respect and reverence toward nature in general. A snake can bite and kill a human. It's "sneaky," it's fast, it's mysterious, and it's &lt;i&gt;all over&lt;/i&gt; stories of myth and legends of mankind (ie: Bible). ALSO it's probably the most un-human of the animal kingdom. There is no "shared moment" when one looks into the eyes of a snake. They snake recognizes a human as an entirely different species, and the odds of living or dying rely completely on the snake's agenda. This makes humans nervous. We have no "control" over the snake, we don't even know how to fight them. They don't have a "call" like ducks, you can't hear them coming like deer. They put us on edge. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The reason I'm explaining all of this, is because I think that Faulkner parallels the snake to nature. For all the reasons that we are scared of nature, we are scared of snakes. Faulkner wants to show how the reason people feel like they need to take control over nature (build roads, cut trees, make factories, etc) is because they don't fully understand it, and that scares them. The innate human drive for destroying what has created them, essentially, is the simple fact that they can't comprehend it, but feel like they &lt;i&gt;should&lt;/i&gt; be able to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The characters that give themselves up to these snakes, and call them "grandfather" enforces a certain amount of respect that Faulkner does not believe the masses of the world have obtained yet. A grandfather is a very relatable, human thing, but is also held to a great respect, unlike "brother" which would imply nature is right on the level with man, or even "father" which implies some great respect, but is still too close to man in age and wisdom. GRANDFATHER implies wisdom obtained through many many years. Grandfather implies a very much loved, yet somehow distant source of stories and knowledge. This is the snake. The snake is the grandfather. Grandfather is nature. The characters who refer to all three things simultaneously in these lines, give themselves over to the trust they've had for nature, disregarding all other facets. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faulkner dismembers some of the snake myths and makes his own, here, which is interesting. Perhaps he still wants the snake to represent original sin, but Faulkner interprets the original sin differently than the Bible. His take on it is more concerned with the wisdom gained from biting the fruit, not the fear of being cast out of the garden naked. His symbols are loaded and complex, but the best way to think about the snake, I believe, is a symbol for everything man cannot comprehend or prevent that occurs in nature. The choice: respect it, or spend an entire life trying to deny it's great existence. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-6991867294335632726?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/6991867294335632726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/power-of-myth-bear.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6991867294335632726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6991867294335632726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/power-of-myth-bear.html' title='The Power of Myth &amp; The Bear'/><author><name>ryan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17916865495945928931</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Lt9_ldiTBo/S1m-vhSQ5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/viltX7a9cT0/S220/falk.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-5644627847731195224</id><published>2010-04-18T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T21:13:14.411-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Second Look at Nancy</title><content type='html'>After Wednesday’s discussion, and the points Kristen made, I went back and re-read “That Evening Sun Go Down” trying to keep Kristen’s perception of Nancy in mind as I read.  What I found upon my second reading was that although I can understand where Kristen is coming from, I see what she means, I stand by my original analysis of Nancy—she is strong, black female character, admirable and pitiable, but not a flat stereotype of an African American servant.  While I respect other characterizations of Nancy, I think that once one looks beyond the surface of her character, taking the time to read the story with the care Faulkner wrote it with, it becomes apparent that Nancy is an impressive and dynamic character.  &lt;br /&gt; The first thing I noticed on my re-read was the way that Faulkner wrote about Nancy in the very beginning of the story.  He, or rather Quentin, describes the way she does the laundry in uplifting and flattering terms.  She is steady with the laundry basket, holds her head high and dignified, and is independent, not being helped by her husband like the other laundresses.  I think that this description is very telling.  It is not just about the way she does the laundry but about Nancy herself.  She is proud, independent, strong, and steady.  Though it may not seem so, what with the drinking, prostitution, and possibly by unlikely drug use, but Nancy is proud to be how she is, which is why she refuses to “learn” breakfast for the Compson family even when it is her duty, and why she laughs when Mr. Stovall kicks her teeth out.  Nancy is stronger than she lets on, and Faulkner lets the reader know this, though in an indirect way.&lt;br /&gt; Second, Wednesday we talked about how Nancy kept say “I’m just a nigger,” and the way little Jason kept declaring that he wasn’t a “nigger.”  It was posited that this was ridiculous, and that these declarations reinforced stereotypes and depicts Nancy as comically “black.”  I respectfully disagree with this assertion.  Nancy’s repeated claim that she is a “nigger” is not her blaming her life on her skin color, but, rather, Nancy’s acceptance of what society has labeled her.  She is not a “nigger” by choice, and because society labels her so, she must resign herself to the fact that she cannot do anything about her situation.  Like Will Mayes, no one believes Nancy when she claims that Jubah is coming to kill her. She cannot convince the Compsons to help because she is seen only as a “nigger” in their eyes.  There is one telling thing in the story which leads me to believe this.  When Jason is naming “niggers,” stating that Dilsey and Jubah are “niggers,” he has to ask if Nancy is a “nigger.” He is too young to automatically label Nancy the way his parents do because he sees her as someone he admires (think back to the way Quentin describes the way Nancy does laundry).  And when Jason asks Dilsey if he is a “nigger,” she replies “I suppose not,” and not outright no.  This leads me to believe that being a “nigger” is more than just a skin color, it is a designation one “earns” from society.&lt;br /&gt; I can go on and on about the intricacies of Nancy’s character.  Her relationship with Jubah is complex, at the same time both touching (everything he had was also hers) and terrifying (she fears he’s going to kill her).  Nancy is complex, a sign of rebellion against the social constraints of her race in a turbulent time, and when one looks at Nancy and Dilsey together, all sorts of binary oppositions appear.  Ultimately, though, Nancy is a very three dimensional character, and one of Faulkner’s most dynamic African American characters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-5644627847731195224?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/5644627847731195224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/second-look-at-nancy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5644627847731195224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5644627847731195224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/second-look-at-nancy.html' title='A Second Look at Nancy'/><author><name>Rebekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00635182202111734458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3988544002023728416</id><published>2010-04-15T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T11:28:15.458-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faulkner,Colored,and Progression</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Go Down,Moses&lt;/em&gt; is the first chance we as readers see Faulkner writing about black people. Sure, in his other works, there was a black character here and there, but never in the forefront of his novels. Of course, we get to know these black or colored(I personally favor the one drop theory) characters through a white man's eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; In the midst of our,at times, heated discussion of Faulkner and his use of colored characters, I understand that Faulkner's perspective cannot shift to the view of a colored person living in Mississippi during his time. Also, in the class discussion, New Orleans was viewed and not being progressive.  This did not sit so well with me. Racially, culturally, ethnically, muscially,etc-New Orleans &lt;strong&gt;is&lt;/strong&gt; progressive.What other city can you possibly name(and no, its not NYC) that has all these elements? What is it that people want? Would you want an Applebee's placed on St. Charles Avenue so that it can be like Dallas or Houston? Would that make New Orleans progressive? Someone mentioned the schools being segregated. First of all, segregation is no longer legal. Whites simply high tailed it, or what is usually referred to as white flight, to the suburbs leaving the blacks behind in the cities with crumbling schools. It annoys me that people think Mississippi and Louisiana are "not progressive" or they are "so far behind." I completely disagree with this idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; For a very short period of my high school academic life, I lived in Dallas,Texas-enrolled into white suburbian Coppell High School-what was supposed to be the BEST school in the district. However, I have never experienced so much racism before in my life until I set foot into this place. Immediately, the teachers and faculty automatically assumed that you should not be in the advanced curriculum courses simply because you were of another race. The student body was segregated according to race. People looked at me strangely because I mingled with everyone, not just the black students. Needless to say, I did not remain at this God awful school very long. I moved back to Mississippi, re-enrolled into the small little Presbyterian high school where I was content. I never felt any form of racism there in MISSISSIPPI,yes MISSISSIPPI as I had felt in good ol' Texas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People from different places do not seem to understand New Orleans as a whole. It is more than just hand grenades and Bourbon Street. Give the city some credit. It is unique within itself. Many cookie cutter cities like Dallas,Houston,Atlanta, and even star studded L.A. are,for the lack of a better term, LAME. There is no culture;everything is the same. There is nothing that sets them apart,which makes them less appealing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry if this is a rant, but that's my feelings on the matter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3988544002023728416?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3988544002023728416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/faulknercoloredand-progression.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3988544002023728416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3988544002023728416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/faulknercoloredand-progression.html' title='Faulkner,Colored,and Progression'/><author><name>j_axo10</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12020772884342593126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-4066795625518619189</id><published>2010-04-14T17:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T17:11:33.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Grandfather"</title><content type='html'>The Bear was by far the most existential thing I've ever read by William Faulkner. It reminds me a lot of "Walden" in some ways, but a tapered version, one that more closely focuses on actual land ownership, greed, and all the negative human desires that corrupt nature. To be continued...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-4066795625518619189?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/4066795625518619189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/grandfather.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4066795625518619189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4066795625518619189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/grandfather.html' title='&quot;Grandfather&quot;'/><author><name>ryan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17916865495945928931</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Lt9_ldiTBo/S1m-vhSQ5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/viltX7a9cT0/S220/falk.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-8290123027866289326</id><published>2010-04-14T15:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T15:57:10.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who the Hell Killed Owen Taylor?</title><content type='html'>As I've read &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Big Sleep&lt;/span&gt; I didn't have any issues with some of the massive plot holes in the movie. There is no satisfying reason in the film for why Carol Lundgren would want to shoot Joe Brody. The homosexuality between the characters is present in the screen play but was removed from the final film because of the Hays Code.&lt;br /&gt;The Big Sleep may be a classic display of Bogie and Bacall. It may be a classic piece of film noir. It's also a classic example of post war fear of corruption coming from the arts. &lt;br /&gt;The Big Sleep is dealing with the underbelly of Hollywood. There's pornography, gambling, sexuality, and plenty of drinking. What we get in the film is an innuendo filled story that lacks the punch because the plot is censored.&lt;br /&gt;Where as in the book Reagan was Vivian's husband, the film just has him as an employee of Sternwood. This is because you can't have Vivian in a relationship with Reagan and in anyway involved in his death. Mars killed Regan. Really? During that last scene I was unconvinced. I was more convinced when Vivian tried to say she killed him, and even then I didn't believe it. Mars has no real motive to commit the murder. He also has enough connections to not need Mars being believed to be in Mexico. HE also wouldn't need to hide his wife away.&lt;br /&gt;I felt bad for the actress that played Carmen. She was practically cut out of the film because her performance out-shined Bacall's. Her character was central to the plot but she got no real chance to show how much of a danger she could be. &lt;br /&gt;Do they ever really explain Geiger's business? I mean you know that Brody took it over but there's never a good idea of what it really is. Other than not "first editions".&lt;br /&gt;The movie suffered greatly from a restrictive code. The screenplay did a good job of getting the grittiness of the novel.&lt;br /&gt;Well I'd rather get wet in here than out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-8290123027866289326?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/8290123027866289326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/who-hell-killed-owen-taylor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/8290123027866289326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/8290123027866289326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/who-hell-killed-owen-taylor.html' title='Who the Hell Killed Owen Taylor?'/><author><name>Todd</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02972273713818345139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-4548671207369832692</id><published>2010-04-14T15:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T15:40:06.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Big Sleep is Anything but a Big Yawn</title><content type='html'>While reading the screenplay for The Big Sleep, I found myself forgetting that William Faulkner had anything to do with it.  It was so unlike anything we’ve read by Faulkner up to this point that I struggled with fitting it into the spectrum of Faulknerian literature.  That being said, I enjoyed both the screenplay and the movie, and would recommend both to anyone.  &lt;br /&gt; The Big Sleep was written in 1944, later than Faulkner’s most famous works, which may explain, to an extent, why the screenplay is so different from rest of Faulkner’s work.  Also, the silver screen is an entirely different medium from any Faulkner had written before.  In a screenplay there is no room for rambling sentences, detailed descriptions, or stream of consciousness narration.  Also, the theme of a detective-type story sans racial, incestual, or war-related tensions and subtexts is a departure from Faulkner’s normal MO.  William Faulkner just doesn’t DO stories like this.  The Big Sleep screenplay was adapted from a novel written by Raymond Chandler, so the overall story was not Faulker’s own.  Still, the writing in the screenplay is not typical of Faulkner; he had to modify his way of writing to fit the medium.  I think he had a great deal of help from the other writers, though, because the screenplay is so unlike his normal writing.&lt;br /&gt; Even though The Big Sleep is so different from Faulkner’s novels and short stories, there are still a few Faulknerian characteristics in the screenplay.  To begin with, the women in the movie—namely the two Sternwood daughters—are extremely sexualized.  From the beginning, they are described in sexual terms, the eldest flashing her bare legs for Philip Marlowe and the youngest coming on to Marlowe in a very naive and sexual way.  The youngest daughter, Carmen, is reminiscent of some of Faulkner’s other female characters, though she is not exactly like those women.  Carmen reminds me a little of Temple Drake and Cecily Saunders, young, slightly androgynous girls who use their sexuality to get what they want.  These girls get away  with things they shouldn’t because they are spoiled by their fathers, and this is clearly the case with Carmen Sternwood.&lt;br /&gt; Faulkner’s penchant for description and exposition can also be seen in the screenplay for The Big Sleep.  Several of the character descriptions and stage directions are terribly complex and unrealistically detailed.  For example, early in the screenplay, Faulkner describes Bernie Ohls as: &lt;br /&gt;. . . a man who has been in close places in the course of his duty, has killed several lawbreakers, at times when he was outnumbered and they thought he was covered and helpless until too late.  He is pleasant and affable to all, respects courage, loves no man.  (The Big Sleep 32)&lt;br /&gt;No person watching this movie could possibly know this unless he were told it.  No cinematic clues can give an audience this much information, especially in such a small time frame.  This is not specific to just Ohls; several other scenes and characters are introduced in a similar fashion.&lt;br /&gt; Last, even within the first few scenes in the movie, it is apparent that alcohol is an important part of the story.  General Sternwood and Philip Marlowe bond over brandy in one of the first scenes of the movie, Vivian Rutledge is seen “drinking her lunch,” and Marlowe and a bookstore owner spend two hours together drinking from Marlowe’s private flask.  Alcohol and Faulkner are inseparable, no matter what the medium, decade, or anything else.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-4548671207369832692?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/4548671207369832692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/big-sleep-is-anything-but-big-yawn.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4548671207369832692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4548671207369832692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/big-sleep-is-anything-but-big-yawn.html' title='The Big Sleep is Anything but a Big Yawn'/><author><name>Rebekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00635182202111734458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-4284714607800959127</id><published>2010-04-14T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T15:31:50.730-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tierney M. Donovan'/><title type='text'>The Big Sleep</title><content type='html'>Initially, I thought it was very unusual that this was written (partly) by Faulkner. Humphrey Bogart doesn't strike me as a Faulknerian actor, but that doesn't mean I don't think he is awesome. I read that it was based on a book by someone else, and the screenwriters were told not to mess with the script too much-- to just stick to the book, so I guess it wouldn't have as much of a Faulkner influence as needed to make it apparent. Maybe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; As a movie, though, I liked it and thought it was entertaining. As I watched,  though, it became a bit more confusing with all of the different characters entering unexpectedly and then all of the dying, and that's where I finally saw Faulkner's influence. But I think it was just the book that had a Faulkner flair. I feel I am not making sense. The plot was hard to follow at times, it seemed to meander a bit, but the movie was entertaining, nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This movie had some really great lines in it. Of course, delivered by Humphrey Bogart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-4284714607800959127?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/4284714607800959127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/big-sleep_14.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4284714607800959127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4284714607800959127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/big-sleep_14.html' title='The Big Sleep'/><author><name>Tierney Donovan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05923801274619800137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-7220166454185483573</id><published>2010-04-14T14:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T15:00:02.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Big Sleep</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Faulkner was one-third of the screen writers for The Big Sleep, but by far the most noticeable. It's clear to me why he liked this story: it's about corruption, there's no real plot, and the characters are all either double-sided or complex in their own way. For instance, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Vivian &amp;amp; Carmen Sternwood are both unique female characters, but are each very different. Each are essentially two-sided. Vivian appears snobbish but reveals herself to be loyal and capable of love. She is a very masculine, "androgynous" female, because she takes on the role that her sickly father is too weak to. She drinks scotch. She gambles. She can hold her own in conversation with a witty protagonist, and is obviously virtuous enough for him to fall in love with her. Carmen is also two sided but in a different way. She appears innocent but actually isn't, she a murderess, a suspected nymphomaniac, porn star, drug user, and perpetuates all of the evil in the novel. These girls, combined, mirror a lot of Faulkner characters in their defiance of social norms. Caddy's muddy underwear for instance. They are both the pure and impure, the ultra-feminine but ultra-masculine androginous characters. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Then we have General Sternwood who represents his own deteriorating family. He's the "head of the household" yet has to have everyone else work for him, including his eldest daughter. He is clueless in their upbringing and let's them run "wild". He's on the verge of death, and symbolizes collapse. He is extremely wealthy, and, like Thomas Supten, is coming to terms with the fact that you can't just "buy in" or "buy out" of life situations. This is illustrated when Marlowe suggests just paying off the blackmailer, but Gen. Sternwood refuses and says that wouldn't do any good for him, showing that he has realized material goods can't do it all, there are emotions, too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Lastly, Philip Marlowe is the shining star in a corrupt world. Anything he touches or holds dear is supposed to be looked at in a good light, and we are constantly shown women offering themselves to him and he refuses sweetly every time, placing himself somewhat above the innate sexual desire and the rest of the men of that time. He's the good, in combat with the evil. He's the teller-of-the-tale and somewhat of a rebel. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;These characters, though classically "film noir" are also classically Faulkner. They defy expectations, social normalicy, etc. They come from broken or incongruous families. They have to assume roles different than what society expects them to assume. They're also rather exciting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Death saturates this film, just as it does many Faulkner novels, and when thought of in conjunction with the greenhouse at the beginning of the screenplay being sweltering hot, motivates a plethora of comparisons to be drawn between this and Faulkner's motif of The Wasteland. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-7220166454185483573?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/7220166454185483573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/big-sleep.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7220166454185483573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7220166454185483573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/big-sleep.html' title='The Big Sleep'/><author><name>ryan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17916865495945928931</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Lt9_ldiTBo/S1m-vhSQ5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/viltX7a9cT0/S220/falk.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-1060870782557005262</id><published>2010-04-14T14:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T15:08:20.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Blurry Line</title><content type='html'>I think "Pantaloon in Black" was my favorite of the seven pieces in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Go Down, Moses&lt;/span&gt;. The book is obviously intended to depict the ever-volatile relations between blacks and whites in the Old South in a realistic and moving way. Rider, the protagonist of "Pantaloon in Black," is an incredibly sympathetic character: his grief is deeply gut-wrenching, especially when compared to the white sheriff's deputy who coldly and ignorantly relates the last tragic events of Rider's life. It was the most emotional I've ever seen Faulkner write. Reading the description of the footprints of Rider and his wife in the August dust almost brought me to tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I started to question the motive Faulkner had for writing this story, indeed, any of the stories in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Go Down, Moses&lt;/span&gt;, which are considerably more focused on blacks than anything else we've read by him. Why document the the incredible pain and suffering of Rider's grief? Because Faulkner is white, I have to wonder how accurate his depictions of Rider and the black community are. Is this story meant as an apology for all those long, long years of slavery, cruelty, and oppression? Perhaps Faulkner wants to do his best to validate the feelings of the black community, to humanize them in the prejudiced eyes of the white American South. The juxtaposition between the visceral nature of Rider's mourning--he cannot eat, cannot sleep, cannot even stand still--and the detached, contemptuous deputy's story seem to indicate that the pain of a race beaten down for so many years must go deeper than the white man's, and the race that is capable of inflicting so much hurt without even flinching must be callous and unfeeling. Maybe this story is the product of a white man's shame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, Rider's grief is often portrayed as animalistic. I once saw a special on the Discovery channel about young bull elephants who are driven out of the herd and go berserk. Elephants are normally very gentle creatures, but these elephants will destroy everything in their paths. It was like Rider was being illustrated as one of those elephants. Faulkner may be saying that white people cannot grieve like this, but it could sound like black people are less in control of their emotions. They aren't as rational as white people, and have to "tear shit up" in order to properly express themselves. It's like saying women may not be as intelligent as men, but they are very pretty to look at: black people may not be as sophisticated as white people, but see how deeply some of them feel!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I pondered these questions, I felt myself treading into very dangerous territory. As a white reader myself, how can I gauge the accuracy of these representations? I was incredibly moved by the depth of Rider's love for Mannie, but was it just white guilt on my part? Is "accuracy" even the issue here? In my heart, I would much rather read "Pantaloon in Black" in the first way, rather than the second, but as a critical thinker would I be deceiving myself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked myself, "If the protagonist of this story was white, would it change how moved you were?" Would I be angry at a white person for committing suicide in the end, or would I see it as tragically and devastatingly as I saw Rider's death? I ultimately found myself feeling as ignorant as the white deputy acts in the second half of the story. How much of this world am I blind to?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-1060870782557005262?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/1060870782557005262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/blurry-line.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1060870782557005262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1060870782557005262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/blurry-line.html' title='A Blurry Line'/><author><name>Amanda Williams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12751623429440309796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3333463341861420790</id><published>2010-04-14T13:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T15:15:15.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Black Community</title><content type='html'>Faulkner’s &lt;em&gt;Go Down, Moses&lt;/em&gt; set a different tone in terms of understanding African Americans in the antebellum south. I thought this novel was real treat, compared to other works we’ve read involving Faulkner, who ventured out of his comfort zone ( as much as he could) to give an accurate account of either the black consciousness or experience in the south. Up until now, we’ve been presented with traditional southern stereotypical black characters such as Dipsey, the mammy figure, Joe Christmas and Charles Bon, the tragic mulattos. Here, Faulkner explores the community of Blacks in the south and the way he portrays this community is accurate as far social norms go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance, the chapter &lt;em&gt;Was&lt;/em&gt; gives a depiction of the expectation of marriage due to a male intruding on a female’s personal space thereby tainting her reputation. This is seen when Uncle Buck surprisingly find Ms. Sophonsiba in the bed with him. It is expected that Uncle Buck now must marry Ms. Sophonsiba. Also, in &lt;em&gt;Was &lt;/em&gt;there is much discussion about Uncle Buck being a widower, and Uncle Buddy being a bachelor. Although these terms are not new, they are mostly used to describe a person’s character socially. In southern literature, the relative term “uncle” is usually used to de-sexualize the black man, making him nonthreatening to be around white women, and kindly looked upon. The same is done with the term “mammy”; all “mammies” are usually old women, who have motherly tendencies. This figure is scoped out by her old age to be categorized in the white mindset, thereby placed into the white household as nonthreatening because she is de-sexualize due to the role she is to play. Faulkner moves away from that traditional way of storytelling. Surprise, surprise Uncle Buck actually is an uncle! There is no stigmatism attached to his name. Another social norm we see is courtship; Turl and Tennie courtship is not only cute, but another aspect in the black community that is rarely seen during slavery. The audience gets a chance to see the challenges of courtship back then. Ms. Sophonsiba husband hunting is also amusing…again the audience is presented with a black character, which is depicted outside of stereotypical role.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faulkner also thoroughly explores the African-Americans want to experience the wilderness. I think he hinted at this with &lt;em&gt;Absalom, Absalom!&lt;/em&gt; except it’s the frontier. Creationism is a minor theme in &lt;em&gt;Absalom, Absalom!&lt;/em&gt; It’s first obviously shown with Thomas Sutpen, who “supposedly” creates something—Supten’s 100/dynasty---out of nothing. However, this theme can be applied to the Haitian slaves as well, who along with Supten created Supten’s 100, either through building the house or working the land. It is because the slaves are occupied “creating” something that they miss out on experiencing the frontier as the white man does. By the time the Negros can experience the frontier, it’s gone leaving it be a &lt;em&gt;Was&lt;/em&gt;. Uncle Buck represents all the blacks that had a desire to experience the wilderness just like white people did. Such an experience is very much part of being an American, yet Uncle Buck is separated from that experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3333463341861420790?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3333463341861420790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/black-community.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3333463341861420790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3333463341861420790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/black-community.html' title='Black Community'/><author><name>Teresha Ussin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11516516409341345426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-398305268037452893</id><published>2010-04-13T16:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T16:46:03.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dry September</title><content type='html'>This story describes a typical situation in southern states during times of intense prejudice and racial discrimination. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dry September &lt;/span&gt;describes a story based on the "Southern White Goddess" concept of the southern white woman being a fragile and incapable of wrongdoing. If a white woman ever accused a black man of any type of sexual wrongdoing, she would automatically be believed. Class adds to the southern white woman's argument as well. A white woman of privilege would never be questioned concerning her allegations of a man's sexual misconduct towards her. This is the case in Faulkner's short story &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dry September. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The black man Will Mayes is accused of raping the white woman of privilege, Miss Minnie. Even though Will seems to be innocent of the accusations, he is still treated with violence by the white males in his town. He only had one person on his side, the l0cal barber. It is questionable if the barber was fully white. In the story they compared him to the character McLendon by saying, "They looked like men of different races." Because the barber believed Will was innocent, he was also scolded and accused of being a "niggerlover."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story is not very different from the historic case of Emmett Till in the early 1950s. The same discriminative justice that was sought after concerning Miss Minnie's allegedly rape by Will Mayes was taken with Emmett Till. The concept of justice was absent. White privilege filled the place of justice in the South, especially concerning acts of violence towards the delicate flower known as the "Southern White Goddess." Faullkner did a great job with capturing this concept and pointing the problems with it through the character called the barber. I was very pleased with this short story, although I was not sure if Will Mayes was killed or just left to wander back to town. It is documented that in the original version of the story Will Mayes was killed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-398305268037452893?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/398305268037452893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/dry-september_13.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/398305268037452893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/398305268037452893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/dry-september_13.html' title='Dry September'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06218241246620610109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__S7ZPeHLXEU/S2n3DMencoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/JqreuJtjWRQ/S220/Kristen+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-7200432828704669173</id><published>2010-04-13T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T15:42:39.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Red Leaves</title><content type='html'>I was first a bit confused about the meaning behind &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Red Leaves &lt;/span&gt;and why Faulkner wrote it, but as I completed the story I gained a greater appreciation for it. Instead of reading about racial relationships between people who are black and white, as in Faulkner's past novels, this novel deals with race relations between Native Americans and African Americans. The way in which they interacted and the level that the Indians understood the African Americans was very strange.  At a certain point, it became funny despite the cannibalism. It was really funny that the Indians believed black people enjoyed sweating and had dark complexion because of the sweating. The tribal rituals including killing a dead leaders possessions once he died was also very interesting. This is actually a common factor in Egyptian history, but it is depicted in this novel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The element of the story that stood out the most to me was the scene when Issetibbeha's servant was bitten by the poisonous snake. He says, "It's that I do not wish to die." After running from the Indians in fear of being eaten, his life is cut short by being bitten by a poisonous snake. His statement really stuck out to me because it seemed to sum up in one statement the feelings of other African Americans who found their lives cut short after fighting so hard to simply live. Even though this story does not include White Americans being harsh to African Americans, African Americans are still given the same position of lowly servitude. However, the Indian Americans in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Red Leaves &lt;/span&gt;were very nice to the black male servant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story was a big breathe of fresh air from Faulkner. He never really seemed able to fully tackle racial subjects concerning white and black Americans, but he did a good job in this story with the Indian and African Americans. He did a great job of making fun of how African Americans are understood by an outside race and culture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-7200432828704669173?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/7200432828704669173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/red-leaves.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7200432828704669173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7200432828704669173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/red-leaves.html' title='Red Leaves'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06218241246620610109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__S7ZPeHLXEU/S2n3DMencoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/JqreuJtjWRQ/S220/Kristen+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-1804929216913116839</id><published>2010-04-12T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T15:07:41.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Rose for Emily:Narration</title><content type='html'>Overall, I enjoy reading Faulkner's short stories as opposed to his strange novels. In his short stories, he moves away from fighting with the "new" southern ideals and finds himself writing more creatively. In "A Rose for Emily",my favorite of Faulkner's short stories, it is important to note the narration. The narration often times switches between first person plural and third person plural. First person is used because the narrator is,obviously, one of the townspeople. When using third person plural, the narrator seems to set him or herself apart from the townspeople,observing what is occurring, and then gossips about it. There is a possibility that the narrator switches from different people of the town. Even though there is no clear indication whther or not they are male or female, gossip is prevelant mostly among women. Faulkner most likely created such a narrator so that he or she could in fact switch to different perspectives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A Rose for Emily" is a horror story both in the thematic sense having dark and gory imagery as well as in the sense of what could possibly could have happened to a young southern woman who never found true love(as creepy as it is).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-1804929216913116839?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/1804929216913116839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/rose-for-emilynarration.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1804929216913116839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1804929216913116839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/rose-for-emilynarration.html' title='A Rose for Emily:Narration'/><author><name>j_axo10</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12020772884342593126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-5992673928845334507</id><published>2010-04-07T15:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T16:02:11.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That Evening Sun</title><content type='html'>This story was interesting mostly because it's the true ghost story that we read for today.&lt;br /&gt;Quentin Compson is nine during the events this story. A story that took place 15 years ago as he tells it. So arguably Quentin is 24. However Quentin committed suicide at the age of 19.&lt;br /&gt;That's the telling part of this story. Where is this story being told from? Are we getting it from beyond the grave? Has Faulkner simply forgotten the year of Quentin's death is 1910? Was the story written before or after &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Sound and the Fury&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;br /&gt;Since it was published for the first time in 1931 in a collection of Short Stories. It is impossible to tell without further research if Faulkner wrote this before the novel or after. But it's interesting because like Sophocles before him, Faulkner is using the same characters but perhaps not the same person.&lt;br /&gt;In the quote unquote Oedipus Trilogy Oedipus and Antigone are not the same in any of the stories. This is because the Trilogy wasn't intended to be read as such. They were all collected later for publishing reasons. &lt;br /&gt;But can we argue this for Faulkner? He seemed to think that he wrote the same Quentin Compson in both &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Sound&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Absalom! Absalom!&lt;/span&gt;. However I still disagree with his assessment. There is very little in the Quentin from &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Absalom!&lt;/span&gt; that suggests that in less than a year he will have committed suicide. It does not work.&lt;br /&gt;And that's fine.&lt;br /&gt;Faulkner is working to create a mythology. In Mythology time isn't a clear span. Some events seem to happen both before and after other events. So this story functions  in that same pattern. Faulkner is able to bring you back to Yoknapatawpha without worrying about internal consistency. Enjoy the story and look for the meaning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-5992673928845334507?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/5992673928845334507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/that-evening-sun_07.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5992673928845334507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5992673928845334507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/that-evening-sun_07.html' title='That Evening Sun'/><author><name>Todd</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02972273713818345139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-5291692822155369387</id><published>2010-04-07T15:50:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T15:50:41.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Insanity</title><content type='html'>This story brings up questions about the integrity of many of the white people from the South. It also shows just how bitter the South is against the North, or to be more specific, the Southern mentality against the Northern mentality. When the barber, Hawkshaw, rose up both to defend Will Mayes but also to suggest that they allow the Sheriff/Marshall to handle it or to look for clues and search for the truth, he is treated and called names that suggested Hawkshaw to be a Negro lover or someone who supports the Negroes. They also called him a northerner, although Hawkshaw stated he was born and raised in that town. This suggests many things, such as the fact that the Southerners are very much bitter for their loss in the civil war and their loss to the rights of slaves. Its more than a simple grudge at this point, it becomes unconstitutional in the fact that they lynched the Will without giving him a fair trial of any sort. It was also a bit of a conspiracy since they kept it secret and no one really caught wind of it, even though Will was innocent. &lt;br /&gt;It is also important to note the fact that Minnie was the only person who stated that she had been raped, a 38-39 year old woman who no longer was able to create sexual attraction towards her without causing some kind of an uproar. &lt;br /&gt;This fact is brought to light several times, especially by Hawkshaw who states that she had said similar things before, although nothing was proven either true or false. McLendon, the one who took charge of the lynching, stated that he did not care whether that was the case or not, but to instead take care of Will before he or another black man decided to do it for real. This is not verbatim but the idea that can be seen from McLendon’s prejudice. &lt;br /&gt;He was willing to avoid the law and kill a black man who he knew might have been innocent. There was no hesitation on his part and he was happy to gain other allies in order to do this evil deed. This deed was done under the excuse that the heat was causing people to not think straight, and because of a simple accusation from a woman who people figured lied before. However, the truth of the matter is that Will Mayes died innocent, simply to support the honor of the South. The idea that the Southern people had a right to defend or attack without repercussions against a black man must have been prevalent in some people, who would also have been willing to tarnish reputations for help. It shows the kind of evils that can come up from simple high societies with deep prejudices and grudges.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-5291692822155369387?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/5291692822155369387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/insanity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5291692822155369387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5291692822155369387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/insanity.html' title='Insanity'/><author><name>Pilotace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16629258517207973978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-803395147244604862</id><published>2010-04-07T15:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T15:50:27.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Compson</title><content type='html'>The Compsons are never going to escape taking part in different parts of history and society. They have seen their own family fall apart, but also bear witness to a unfaithful black woman break down mentally and physically before she eventually was murdered. Nancy garnered the attention of the Compson children just from the way she walked with the laundry and the balance she had when the kept the laundry over her head. At the same time, the serious issues were brought around many of the children and were not well hidden or worded in such a way that everyone would not understand, but the children, in their innocence, had very little understanding of what was going on. Quentin was the only child that finally realized a bit of what was happening, enough to know that when they were leaving the house in the final section, they would never see Nancy alive again. He also knew that Jubah/Jesus (he’s named different according to different versions) would be the one to kill her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-803395147244604862?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/803395147244604862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/compson.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/803395147244604862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/803395147244604862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/compson.html' title='Compson'/><author><name>Pilotace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16629258517207973978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-2138663142923830332</id><published>2010-04-07T15:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T15:39:17.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brush fires and nooses</title><content type='html'>What causes violence and aggression? &amp;nbsp;Faulkner lays it on the line in "Dry September." &amp;nbsp;As anyone who has graduated from high school knows, sometimes it's just the weather. &amp;nbsp;Don't you remember how suspensions escalated, detentions spiked, and fights always seemed to break out along with the break of spring? &amp;nbsp;And it only got worse from there. &amp;nbsp;Heat makes people crazy. &amp;nbsp;And irrational prejudice, combined with the whole "Southern Belle" mythology, doesn't help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The saving grace of what seems to be a pretty trite story is that, like the mob, we don't know the facts. &amp;nbsp;We are a captive audience, crowded into a swelting barber shop, stuffed into a car skidding across dusty roads at midnight. &amp;nbsp;Perhaps, as the reader, you're with Hawkshaw. &amp;nbsp;Will Mayes is a good man, or at least a good nigger. &amp;nbsp;He couldn't have done this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps you're with another anonymous speaker, whose voice clings to some semblance of rationality even within the amoebic mob: "We'll get the facts in plenty of time to act." &amp;nbsp;Of course, as things go, you're already acting, and then you've acted, and the facts never seemed to materialize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minnie is both a contemptible and sympathetic character in the story. &amp;nbsp;She's approaching old maidhood, and this terrifies her. &amp;nbsp;What better way to stir interest than a harmless little rape accusation, born of desperation, and directed against an expendable member of society? &amp;nbsp;And it seems to work just fine; when last we see her, Minnie is carried, as if on a palankin, to a bed, where she is fawned over in an almost orgiastic scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When all is said and done, all that's left is a dead black man, a sad spinster, and a bunch of pathetic, impotent white dudes. &amp;nbsp;McLendon goes home to his gilt, cramped little shack and smacks his wife around. &amp;nbsp;A war hero with nothing left to fight for, he likely feels ashamed of himself as "cooler heads prevail" and Faulkner's narrative camera pans out and away into the cold sky. &amp;nbsp;The heat is gone, and so is the frenzy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-2138663142923830332?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/2138663142923830332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/brush-fires-and-nooses.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2138663142923830332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2138663142923830332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/brush-fires-and-nooses.html' title='Brush fires and nooses'/><author><name>Ira Wray</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11479216511733628508</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-4118483035916768586</id><published>2010-04-07T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T15:51:09.915-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Ghost Story.</title><content type='html'>What exactly is the Ghost in a "A Rose for Emily"?&lt;br /&gt;Is it the Northern Man whose skeleton rests in Emily's bed?&lt;br /&gt;Is it Miss Emily herself? A member of this community that they'd rather forget, because she makes them uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;The story is interesting because it can be read both ways. &lt;br /&gt;Some people want to say that this is a comment on the relationship between the North and the South post-Civil War. To me that seems like a bit of a stretch. It seems to me more likely that a Northerner was an easier person to get lost without anyone noticing or saying anything. If it had been a member of the community who had suddenly gone missing, people would have more questions. But if an outsider gets into a situation and then just suddenly disappears people are less likely to talk and less likely to put the clues together.&lt;br /&gt;Faulkner said that the story started with the image of the silver hair on the pillow. That may have been the first thing that he wrote but it seems unlikely that the piece of hair is the real focus of this story. The real focus of this story is the people of the town.&lt;br /&gt;The people talk about Miss Emily constantly, whether saying good things or offering pity, or spreading gossip. This is a aspect of small-town life that is inescapable.&lt;br /&gt;The truly interesting story though is the fact that the town let her get away with it. This is an interesting side of history. Many criminologist believe that some of the great "unsolved" crimes would have been easier solved today because people would have looked at the females as likely suspects. In history, murder is dominated by men killing other men, but it is likely that women committed murder more often but were simply not suspected.  The men spread the lye around the place because they couldn't confront a woman about the smell that came from her house. They even recognize the smell as something dead, but can not fathom that Miss Emily could have killed the Northern man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-4118483035916768586?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/4118483035916768586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/ghost-story.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4118483035916768586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4118483035916768586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/ghost-story.html' title='A Ghost Story.'/><author><name>Todd</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02972273713818345139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-4129134887763876970</id><published>2010-04-07T15:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T15:31:36.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Damned Dust.</title><content type='html'>This story perhaps featured dust more prominently than even &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Flags in the Dust&lt;/span&gt; did.&lt;br /&gt;This story was interesting because of the fact that the story it features around is a rumor and the "Truth" as it would appear is never given. There is also the hint of Will is dead and has been killed by these men but it is never explicitly stated.&lt;br /&gt;The rumors of his demise have been greatly exaggerated.&lt;br /&gt;For such a short story, Faulkner deals with a few large issues. The idea that a Southern man must always accept Race before the person. Hawkshaw is doubtful that Will did anything to Minnie Cooper. The rest of them don't care if he did or if he didn't. The rumor is enough justification for them to make an example of Will.&lt;br /&gt;The dust serves as a reminder that something came before this. This world that is established wholly in this story alone comes from somewhere else. There was a time before and it has fallen. The people are now surrounded by the dust of the past.&lt;br /&gt;The fact that Mayes works at an "ice plant" is interesting. In the middle of a heat spell in the South, the fact that Mayes works at the place where these Men get the ice to cool them off is interesting. It also suggests that Mayes comes from somewhere cooler and is not as hot-blooded as these men. It also ties him symbolically to Minnie Cooper because the ice is the only thing that can calm her at the end of the story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-4129134887763876970?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/4129134887763876970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/damned-dust.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4129134887763876970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4129134887763876970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/damned-dust.html' title='The Damned Dust.'/><author><name>Todd</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02972273713818345139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-117610703206672140</id><published>2010-04-07T15:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T15:50:11.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sole Black Man</title><content type='html'>The strangest character in this entire short story would have to be the black servant. He is the one character who has no motivation that I can discern and he seems to have no real point in the entire story except to explain why Emily was able to eat and do what she needed without ever leaving the house for years at a time. At the same time, he easily escaped the harsher punishments of prejudice from officials and from lesser people, either by simply working in the mansion or being able to state that he worked for Emily. It might have been possible for the officials to have found out more about Emily or what secrets the mansion might have hid if they had taken the servant, killed or interrogated him and entered the mansion themselves. While this is something that other Southern people would have found no problem with, it never happened anyways. The black servant was able to get away from the entire situation after Emily died, and finally left the house out of the back door and effectively disappeared before anyone realized that there was a murdered body inside of Emily’s home. But the question that comes up, again, is why was he there to begin with and why did he keep the secret anyways? If he was a simple servant only following orders, then it is more likely that he would have remained within the mansion even after Emily had died. By running away he seemed more like someone who was forced to remain within the home by some strange power that Emily seemed to have or something she had and held over his head. &lt;br /&gt;Now it would have been strange and unlikely for the servant to have been the actual lover/murderer of the late Homer Barron, but that would have been enough to give us a better understanding of why he was still there. &lt;br /&gt;If in fact the reason that he stayed was because of his duty to his mistress and her house, then he was worldlier than his mistress was or any other “duty-bound” servants might be. Willing to survive, get paid, he followed orders and even kept dirty secrets, but knew that once the dead body was found, he would have been implicated as an accomplice to murder and likely hung either by trial or a lynching mob. So he escaped, deciding to keep up with the role until the last minute and while people would be searching around and becoming confused by the sight of the dead body, escape and find a way to survive his final years peacefully (Considering he was also a fairly old person). &lt;br /&gt;This is, of course, speculation but it is put forward to allow for a better explanation than the one that the story gives us (Which is none).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-117610703206672140?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/117610703206672140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/sole-black-man.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/117610703206672140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/117610703206672140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/sole-black-man.html' title='The Sole Black Man'/><author><name>Pilotace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16629258517207973978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-1769508087805839027</id><published>2010-04-07T14:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T14:51:24.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The indifference of adults and naivete of children</title><content type='html'>Okay, I'ma break it down. &amp;nbsp;This story is about several metaphysical divides: between black and white, young and old, and naivete and indifference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quentin - in a manner consistent with the nostalgic bent of the rest of this week's stories - begins by reminiscing about old-timey Jefferson, when the negro women simply walked back and forth on laundry day rather than driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We learn that Nancy has been knocked up by a white storekeeper and church deacon, Mr. Stovall, in an act of prostitution. &amp;nbsp;We also learn that her husband, Jubah (or Jesus, apparently, although I would find that name change a bit irrelevant and distracting), is none too pleased with this development. &amp;nbsp;The thing is, we understand these things because we are old enough to pick up on clues hidden within the context of the adults' language and interactions. &amp;nbsp;The children don't understand these things because of their youth, and the white adults may understand these things but, frankly, they don't give a damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nancy is clearly terrified for her life, and Jubah is clearly lurking just out of sight. &amp;nbsp;The interesting implication of this story is that all that separates the naivete of these children from the indifference of their parents is time. &amp;nbsp;As sure as spring follows winter, the Compson kids will grow up into Compson parents and, unless somehow profoundly affected and changed, will keep on walking away from black folks in peril of death.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-1769508087805839027?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/1769508087805839027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/indifference-of-adults-and-naivete-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1769508087805839027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1769508087805839027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/indifference-of-adults-and-naivete-of.html' title='The indifference of adults and naivete of children'/><author><name>Ira Wray</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11479216511733628508</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-578165775418682145</id><published>2010-04-07T14:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T14:22:50.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emily, you so crazy</title><content type='html'>"...All the past is not a diminishing road but, instead, a huge meadow which no winter ever quite touches..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This line, near the end of the story, sums up "A Rose for Emily" to me. &amp;nbsp;Above all, this story is steeped in nostalgia. &amp;nbsp;Or, perhaps, not quite nostalgia, but a strange nostalgic preference that the past would remain the present. &amp;nbsp;The narrator, to be sure, is guilty of this; his perspective drifts among reverence of Emily, peculiar fascination, and quiet contempt. &amp;nbsp;As the town itself ages and decays, Emily seems to remain sacrosanct, inviolable, and secure in her home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only after Emily dies do we learn that she has perpetrated the ultimate nostalgia; what better, in her mind, than to keep things "the way they are," so there never has to be a "way they were?" &amp;nbsp;It seems apparent, in the final paragraph, that Emily had long ago poisoned Mr. Barron and had been sleeping next to his corpse for many years. &amp;nbsp;For her, this may have effectively frozen time. &amp;nbsp;This, from such a reticent woman, one who simply would not acknowledge any phrase resembling "things have changed," seems hardly surprising, if a bit shocking. &amp;nbsp;Indeed, to the intruders in her home, things have changed quite noticeably. &amp;nbsp;Jefferson has been corrupted by encroaching industry, Homer Barron's belongings lie obscured under thick tarnish, and he himself is withered, dessicated, and skeletonized. &amp;nbsp;Emily, too, will soon take this road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what to make of this? &amp;nbsp;Is Faulkner linking Emily's grotesquerie to the Confederate war veterans waxing nostalgic on her lawn? &amp;nbsp;Is he focusing his dark satirical gaze on those who would, in an effort to preserve their idealized memory of Dixie past, regress it and pervert it beyond recognition? &amp;nbsp;Probably.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-578165775418682145?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/578165775418682145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/emily-you-so-crazy.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/578165775418682145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/578165775418682145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/emily-you-so-crazy.html' title='Emily, you so crazy'/><author><name>Ira Wray</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11479216511733628508</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-8919919975650292705</id><published>2010-04-07T13:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T14:53:17.350-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Feminist Faulkner?</title><content type='html'>Faulkner's short story "Dry September" deliberately and forcefully deals with the issue of race and racism in the American South. The repeated question of "Won't you take a white woman's word before a nigger's?", however, seemed to me to bring gender issues into the question as well. The Southern concept of the "White Goddess" is something we've encountered before in other Faulkner works: white women of the South are both perceived and maintained as creatures of the utmost virtue and delicacy. When it comes to matters of sexuality, they are helpless and utterly passive, totally innocent of any lust or longing. When white women like Caddy Compson or Temple Drake, however, recognize their own sexual prerogative, they are immediately cast out, eternal pariahs of the community.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Faulkner clearly admires the transgressive women he writes about, especially Caddy, complete female sexual freedom still seems very frowned upon. Caddy's daughter Quentin has clearly taken ownership of her sexuality, but she is portrayed as promiscuous and hopeless. The character of Minnie Cooper is clearly dealing with her own sexual frustrations. Once the belle of the ball, so to speak, she removes herself from social life after "One evening at a party she heard a boy and two girls, all schoolmates, talking. She never accepted another invitation." This seems to mark the beginning of her frustrations with relationships between members of the opposite sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conflicting feelings shared by the town about her private life didn't seem to help either. Whether she has passed marrying age and is called "Aunt Minnie" or seen with a middle-aged cashier and addressed as "Cousin Minnie," she is always "poor Minnie." She is pitied for her lack of luck with men, but the townspeople also seem determined to keep her in a state of virginity. Then again, her alleged adultery with the cashier is at the both looked down upon and encouraged because of the titillating gossip it provides. The only thing that keeps their dalliance from completely outraging the town seems to be her age. Faulkner's portrayal of the townspeople shows the Southern paradox of sexuality: there are very strong public feelings about what men and women can and cannot do, yet people are driven to obsession by tales of the sexual lives of others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The townspeople cannot make up their minds about what is "proper" for a woman of her age and status, meanwhile Minnie is locked in a state of growing hysteria. This is not the first time a man has been accused of assaulting her purity, recalls the men of the barber shop. We never know if Will Mays actually raped her or not, but her nervous breakdown at the end of the story makes sense either way: she will only be noticed, truly noticed, by the townspeople if she is involved in some kind of sexual scandal. The body that publicly belongs to the "White Goddess," with all the sexual mores that go along with it, is also publicly speculated about in the most humiliating way. I wouldn't be surprised if Minnie Cooper was laughing at the hypocrisy of her "friends" at the end of the story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-8919919975650292705?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/8919919975650292705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/feminist-faulkner.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/8919919975650292705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/8919919975650292705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/feminist-faulkner.html' title='The Feminist Faulkner?'/><author><name>Amanda Williams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12751623429440309796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3413604568334776495</id><published>2010-04-07T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T13:45:35.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More like Moketubby</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Red Leaves&lt;/i&gt;; what an entrancing little story. &amp;nbsp;What interested me most about this was Faulkner's treatment of these two groups of people - Africans and Native Americans - with qualities both similar and disparate. &amp;nbsp;Each fell victim to the encroaching European culture in its own way. &amp;nbsp;In &lt;i&gt;Red Leaves&lt;/i&gt;, we learn how a line of Native American men came to own and run a plantation, and consequently a brace of slaves. &amp;nbsp;As they are unaccustomed to agriculture, they are initially at a loss as to how to dispose of the Africans; they have superstition about eating them (even though they seem to view them more as cattle than as people), but their stewardship sensibility prevents them from simply killing the Africans. &amp;nbsp;Ergo, the gravitation to agriculture and profit. &amp;nbsp;This is a problem - and, of course, a conclusion - I had never thought about before, but it makes sense within the context.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story, like many of Faulkner's works, also seems to touch upon the perversion of an ideal, or a fall from an original state. &amp;nbsp;Doom (&lt;i&gt;du homme&lt;/i&gt;) begets Issetibbeha, who begets Moketubbe, and they progressively deviate further from the expected culture and lifestyle of Native Americans; indeed, Moketubbe is too rotund to move large distances, and the very plumpness of his feet prevents him from wearing the special shoes that seem to signify the mantle of authority and leadership. &amp;nbsp;Near the story's end, Basket remarks "Take them off. &amp;nbsp;Honor has been served." &amp;nbsp;The shoes become a symbol of authority rather than a requisite of authority. &amp;nbsp;Rulers become figureheads. &lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;Sic transit gloria.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3413604568334776495?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3413604568334776495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/more-like-moketubby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3413604568334776495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3413604568334776495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/more-like-moketubby.html' title='More like Moketubby'/><author><name>Ira Wray</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11479216511733628508</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-8114993073494719458</id><published>2010-04-07T11:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T12:01:20.292-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tierney M. Donovan'/><title type='text'>That Evening Sun</title><content type='html'>I just read some of the other posts about this story and there are some differences in my text. First, it's only called "That Evening Sun," and second, the man who Nancy is hiding from is named "Jesus" in my book. Those seem like some major differences. But all that aside, this was my favorite of the short stories assigned. I was excited to see that it was about the Compsons, and at a time when they seemed to be doing okay, not clashing and fighting or obsessing about what Caddie was doing. Was this narrated by Quentin? I couldn't really tell. I thought it was but I was not totally certain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story allowed the readers to get a view of the Compsons as children, moreso than in that first really difficult &lt;em&gt;of Sound and the Fury&lt;/em&gt;. I was particularly interested in the character if Jason, because of how he was in the novel. He seemed like a normal kid. I wasn't sure how old they were supposed to be in this story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The character Nancy was mostly the focus of this one, though, and her constant moaning or whatever she was doing was kind of creepy. Or, at least it gave me the creeps. That, coupled with the lurking Jesus outside, hiding in ditches ready to kill. And her ultimate fate, too. I think Nancy was pretty mentally unhealthy and Mr. Compson seemed to kind of pick up on this. He never seemed to anger with her, and was very patient. This was nice. I liked the character of Mr. Compson-- I pretty much liked all of the characters except for Jesus, of course. I tried to understand that watermelon/vine brief conversation that  Nancy and Jesus had in front of the Compson kids, but I didn't really get what he meant. I guess he was threatening her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story was so dark feeling. I really liked it a lot and it made me wish that there had been a whole series of short stories dealing with the Compsons as children, so there could be more insight to their lives and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faulkner's short stories, the ones we read, were all pretty good, but this one was, in my opinion, the best of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-8114993073494719458?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/8114993073494719458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/that-evening-sun.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/8114993073494719458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/8114993073494719458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/that-evening-sun.html' title='That Evening Sun'/><author><name>Tierney Donovan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05923801274619800137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-630227633322514703</id><published>2010-04-07T08:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T08:56:35.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What is Kept too Long</title><content type='html'>There are largely two kinds of rule-breakers or convention-shakers in the world, those who are too ahead of their time, and those who are too behind. In A Rose for Emily by William Faulkner, it's the story of a person stuck in the past, which causes problems with modern convention and reality. Miss Emily lives unbound by rules of current society. She doesn't want to pay her taxes because she hadn't had to before: "I have no taxes in Jefferson. Colonel Sartoris explained it to me. Perhaps one of you can gain access to the city records and satisfy yourselves." She says with a stern, dry voice. The mention of the city records implies that this was a long-ago established write-off, probably not one that exists for her anymore. She doesn't even consider the town Sheriff really the Sheriff. She probably only associates the job title with the previous Sheriff, the Sheriff of her prime. Miss Emily refuses to comply with convention not because she believes there needs to be a change, but because she hates the change that has occurred. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Emily hides from life after the death of her father and the mysterious "disappearing" of her sweetheart. She locks herself in her house, a relic in itself of the past, and clings to whatever memories she has stored in there, whatever routines, untarnished by the slowly modernizing outside world. In her neighborhood, which was once the finest neighborhood, only her house remains among the newly sprouted gins and mills. This historic, immaculately built place is isolated, cut off from the surrounding town. It's arrogant in this way, but also sad, lonely. Like Emily herself, who refuses to conform. The house being a manifestation of her ideals, she has chosen to remain standing immaculate among the newness, as an old relic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faulkner then takes this motif and puts a spin on it. If we are to see Emily's house as a manifestation of her ideas, than we have to take note of that hideous smell, the product of a dark secret. We find out that Emily has kept her "sweetheart" in her house rotting away for years. Perhaps she didn't want to be alone, maybe she was obsessed, but either way, there's a body in a bed in a room that hasn't been opened in forty years. Two old relics, Miss Emily and her home, are the keepers of a dead man; the cradlers of death itself. Sure, the house is filling up with the stench of a dying body, but Faulkner wants to imply that so is Emily. This obsession that has led Emily to keep the body in a locked-off room, is the same obsession that keeps her from interacting in a forward-moving world. There's not just a hint of Emily's past life within her, it's dead inside her, and she reeks of it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This all may sound disgusting, and Faulkner probably intended it to in some way, but in another, we have to take note that this "stench" is not coming from someone who was an evil person in Emily's eyes, it's coming from a body that held a soul that Emily loved. In some way, we all hold on to some form of nostalgia. Some people talk about "the good old days" some talk about "the glory days" some talk about college days, some about childhood, but whatever the day or moment of life or time period people subscribe to, they are ignoring the present. The constant ignorance of present only leads to stagnation, to decay, wether or not the love for it is sweet and true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-630227633322514703?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/630227633322514703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-is-kept-too-long.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/630227633322514703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/630227633322514703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-is-kept-too-long.html' title='What is Kept too Long'/><author><name>ryan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17916865495945928931</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Lt9_ldiTBo/S1m-vhSQ5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/viltX7a9cT0/S220/falk.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-475070179431834609</id><published>2010-04-06T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T19:54:57.103-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tierney M. Donovan'/><title type='text'>Dry September</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The first five words of this story really struck me: "Through the bloody Septmber twilight..." How beautiful. The sentence continues, of course, but those first words were really striking to me. The first and the last: The last line from "Dry September" was also very striking: "The dark world seemed to lie stricken beneath the cold moon and the lidless stars."  Wow! It seemed to really sum up this whole story. Cold, always watching the dark color of the skin... "...lying stricken" seemed to show what happened to Will Mayes, even though we never really get closure on that. I enjoyed this story as well as "A Rose for Emily" even though it made me tense and sad. The language was so remarkable-- these short stories have been very strong, in my opinion. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The barber shop dialogue was really captured real tension between the men. The horrible McLendon and his getting the whole horrible mess going... I thought it was interesting that Faulkner never gives any details about what actually had happened between  Will and Minnie. And that her being older and unmarried would be a reason that she would create stories about men. Minnie was an intriguing character and I would have liked to have gotten to know her a bit better than was offered. Same for Will. We don't really get into their lives very much, moreso Minnie's. This, though, kind of steered the story to excentuate the innocence of Will, I thought, and the injustice and prejudice of many whites in this time period. A white woman's word was more valuable than the life of a black person's life. People who didn't even really know her were willing to murder just because she said something happened. This really brings home what, or maybe what Faulkner thought, was a likely scenario. Maybe?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Since there is such a lack of information on Will's life and Minnie and Will's interaction, there is still a question left in the mind of the reader as to what really happened. Did Minnie lose it because something terrible happened or  because she had lied about it? Faulkner leaves the conclusions to the reader, but  I felt it was a bit leaning more toward Will being innocent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The last scene showed McLendon in a really poor light, and continuing in the mind of the reader uncalled for brutality that he was capable of. His wife stayed up past a certain hour and she gets smacked... That's pretty ridiculous. Faulkner seems to zero in on the characters that are supposed to be disliked, like Jason in &lt;em&gt;Sound and the Fury&lt;/em&gt; and Popeye in&lt;em&gt;  Sanctuary,&lt;/em&gt;  and I think he really didn't want the readers to like McLendon from the beginning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I enjoyed this story and it, along with "A Rose for Emily" was less Faulknerian than his novels, in  my opinion, and a lot more accessible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-475070179431834609?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/475070179431834609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/dry-september.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/475070179431834609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/475070179431834609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/dry-september.html' title='Dry September'/><author><name>Tierney Donovan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05923801274619800137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-2540603677969690578</id><published>2010-04-06T19:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T19:26:02.323-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tierney M. Donovan'/><title type='text'>A Rose for Emily</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"A Rose for Emily" brought me back to grade school. We read this at some point either in seventh or eighth grade and I didn't realize until I began reading that I had read it before. The curiosity of the neighbors-- the nosiness-- immediately conjured memories of the first time I had read the story. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I enjoyed this story a lot. It was the first I read of the series of assigned short stories, and I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;was struck by how different it was from all of the Faulkner we had read thus far. It was very accessible-- so accessible that it was assigned reading at a Catholic grade school. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;After reading, however, I wondered who the narrator was and why the story was called "A Rose for Emily" when I don't recall a rose being mentioned.  But maybe it passed me by and I didn't realize. A rose offered to Emily, I guess, would have been when one was courting or when she was dead, as a sign of respect. I was confused about that as well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The character of Emily brought to m&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;ind the character or Flannery O'Connor's Joy in "Good Country People," although Emily was far less gruff, I thought. Faulkner really illustrated the character of Emily pretty clearly, and did so in such a short story that it really showcased the depth of his abilities. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Another question I had after reading was how did the grey hair get on the pillow next to the dead man if the room had been sealed for so many years? Did I miss something here? He said there was dust everywhere... How did she get in? And did her negro house man know what was going on? He bolted pretty quickly after the people were let into the house, so to me, that said that he was aware of Emily's bed partner. But how did she get in?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This was a really great story but it left me with many questions for Faulkner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-2540603677969690578?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/2540603677969690578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/rose-for-emily_06.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2540603677969690578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2540603677969690578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/rose-for-emily_06.html' title='A Rose for Emily'/><author><name>Tierney Donovan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05923801274619800137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-4785005014877857906</id><published>2010-04-06T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T19:05:29.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who are you Mr. Compson?</title><content type='html'>"That Evening Sun Go Down" follows the same fractured time frame as Faulkner's other works, in particular, that unique and often dizzying timeline that is employed in all tales of the Compson family. The story begins in the present, which is not a place the reader returns to. The title refers to an evening which we find out later on is in the past, yet the title itself could allude to the future or the past. The setting goes back and forth like the sun goes up and down, the present exists and then doesn't, the past exists and then doesn't. Similarly other elements in the story exist and then cease to exist. Immediately I knew that this was an important theme in this short story. In several instances Faulkner describes things as being and not being, such as, "she said she was ... she said she wasn't" or "it was like singing and it wasn't like singing." The theme uniting the aforementioned provides a circular realm wherein the story can take place. Perhaps it is even linear, yet, in a nonconventional way. In this story, if we were to perceive it as employing a linear pattern in the way that I am speaking of, the pattern is one that goes back and forth, i guess slightly similar to that of a ping pong game. The back and forth motion can be representative of two opposing forces, that of good and that of evil--both inherent in human actions and intentions. The characters in this story walk the line between, under, and above these realms, wobbling from side to side. Each character is distinguished by their placement amid the good and evil forces. I believe that Nancy, a "hell-born" Negro, is representative of this struggle. Her character embodies fear, unease and anticipation. Caddy, particularly when persuaded by Nancy, demonstrates human weakness in the face of temptation whereas Jason's character mimics both Caddy and Nancy at the same time. He is both fearful and tempted to act in discordance with his intuition because of Caddy's heckling. Jubah, is the devil waiting outside, whether there or not there his presence does not cease and it is feared by all characters except for Mr. Compson whom I have yet to fully comprehend in terms of my analysis thus far. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am interested to see how people viewed Mr. Compson.. That is, what role does he play in this story? What is he representative of in your perspective?? Does he contribute to my argument?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-4785005014877857906?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/4785005014877857906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/who-are-you-mr-compson.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4785005014877857906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4785005014877857906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/who-are-you-mr-compson.html' title='Who are you Mr. Compson?'/><author><name>colbyjamrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='17' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SU1cYzy08wU/Sbh8iUSkyiI/AAAAAAAAAA8/-44uRgogudM/S220/FISHIES.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-6140099470127086868</id><published>2010-04-06T18:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T18:26:50.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hold On, Nancy</title><content type='html'>William Faulkner’s short story “That Evening Sun Go Down” is a chilling thriller set in his iconic Yoknapatawpha county.  We are once again privy to the lives of the three Compson children, Caddy, Jason, and Quentin, our narrator.  At this point in the children’s lives they are seven, five, and nine, respectively.  In this story we are introduced to a new character, Nancy, a black servant to the Compson family.  Nancy is a troubled individual, dabbling possibly in alcohol, prostitution, and cocaine.  For the second half of the story she lives in fear of her delinquent husband who she thinks has returned to cut her with a razor.  Though Faulkner leaves the biggest and most important leaps entirely up to the reader, he succeeds in creating the atmosphere of fear and depravity that Nancy herself lives in.&lt;br /&gt; Nancy is an interesting and complex character.  She serves as a foil to the Compsons’ usual housemaid, Dilsey, who is sick at the time of the story.  Nancy’s rowdy and debauched life is strikingly juxtaposed with Dilsey’s diligent servitude.  Dilsey is the typical submissive black servant of the South, calling her employer master and fawning over her children.  Nancy, on the other hand, is rebellious of her job and refuses to be governed by her skin color.  At the beginning of the story she refuses to get up and make the Compsons breakfast because she has to “get her sleep out.”  Nancy is a prostitute, having sex with the white Mr. Stovall.  Nancy’s rebellious nature is also seen when she attempts to escape from prison, hanging naked out of the window holding onto nothing but her dress.  Nancy and Dilsey are two sides of the same coin, though, as they are both African American women in 1920s Deep South.  They are both at the lowest of the chain, being both females and blacks.  It is interesting to see this difference, though, and I think that Faulkner did a nice job depicting these two sides to black womanhood in the south.&lt;br /&gt; The thriller element in this story is a new one, at least in my Faulknerian experience.  Parts of “That Evening Sun Go Down” seemed more like Poe than Faulkner, but this simply proves that Faulkner is more diverse than I once thought him to be.  The suspense in the second  half the story over whether Jubah was really going to kill Nancy or if it was just her crazy imagination reminded me of “The Telltale Heart.”  I found myself reading faster through Nancy’s walks back to her cabin in order to get her home safely.  I think Faulkner masterfully crafted this story, and has once again hooked me into his writing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-6140099470127086868?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/6140099470127086868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/hold-on-nancy.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6140099470127086868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6140099470127086868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/hold-on-nancy.html' title='Hold On, Nancy'/><author><name>Rebekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00635182202111734458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-7302087320580499672</id><published>2010-04-06T18:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T18:54:06.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you Hear?</title><content type='html'>"Well," He said, "Are you going sit there and let a black son rape a white woman on the streets of Jefferson?"&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This line exemplifies what, to me, Faulkner is trying to communicate in this short story. It is clear to any Faulkner reader that he's mostly writing about issues of race, wealth, the idea of the "Old South", and the potent characters within this realm. However, we should not let this specific placement (Jefferson) and particular time period cloud the fact that these issues of rumor and prejudice are eternal and all-encompassing. From the time of the ancients to the time of Shakespeare and even in popular culture of the present, these themes permeate our thoughts and actions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The rumors surrounding this black man and white woman in Dry September reach beyond this specific racism. Faulkner is highlighting all forms of prejudice, subtle and overt. When Shakespeare wrote Othello, a story with a similar predicament, he was not just writing about the personal struggle between two people of different races in love, but the complex, constructed laws of humanity. It's important to remember that when we are reading Faulkner, we aren't just reading about the South, we are reading about the world—ancient, modern, eternal. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That being said, Will Mayes (black man) is suspected of raping Miss Minnie (white woman), and the outcome is never revealed in order to show the reader that the actual rape the least important thing surrounding all of the anxieties, questions, and thoughts that it spawned. The rumor lingers in front of the reader's face to show that wether it happened or not is unimportant. What really matters is that it's a huge, penetrating situation that occupies the thoughts and conversation of an entire community. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Are you going to sit there and let..." Yes. That's exactly what happened in this city of Jefferson. They talked, spread rumors, and in that occupied all of their lives with the mere idea of a rape that may or may not have happened. Storytelling is a big part of human interaction, but add discrimination of any kind, and soon enough the stories turn into harmful, snowballing lies. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rape is a terrible thing, and I'm not saying this is not to make light of it. But it's suggested that Miss Minnie may well have created the story as a scapegoat to keep her name which is described as "not the best people in Jefferson" but a family that's "good enough". This is also a common occurrence among women. Some people even suggest that the Virgin Mary may have created such an elaborate story about conceiving the son of God so as to not be called impure. Just as permeating as the discrimination between races is that double-edged sword of sexuality between men and women, where the woman is usually always to blame.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This world of rumor is created out of the struggle to maintain socially constructed racism and discriminations. Faulkner wants to show that nothing worthwhile is created from letting socially constructed and destructive boundaries between race, gender, and class get to you. As soon as a person puts faith in the system, they have to become a slave to that system, and that's always been a vicious cycle of misunderstanding among us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-7302087320580499672?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/7302087320580499672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/did-you-hear.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7302087320580499672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7302087320580499672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/did-you-hear.html' title='Did you Hear?'/><author><name>ryan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17916865495945928931</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Lt9_ldiTBo/S1m-vhSQ5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/viltX7a9cT0/S220/falk.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3667332714352675839</id><published>2010-04-06T16:30:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T16:30:21.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Did He? Or Didn't He?</title><content type='html'>The major premise of William Faulkner’s short story “Dry September” revolves around the question of whether or not Will Mayes, a black man, raped Minnie Cooper, a white woman.  This question is never really answered, at least not outright, and I, at least, was unable to deduce the truth from the context.  The way I look at it, Mayes could have raped her, or Miss Minnie could be lying, but in the end, it doesn’t really matter either way.&lt;br /&gt; In the first scene of the story, several men are discussing what has happened in a barbershop.  One of the barbers defends Willie Mayes, saying “I know Willie Mayes,” and claiming that Willie is a good man who wouldn’t hurt anyone.  The other men in the shop disagree, calling the barber a “niggerlover” simply because he wants to collect the facts before making any judgments.  One man, an ex-soldier known as McLendon, joins the discussion and is outraged by the barber’ “niggerloving.”  McLendon hurls accusations as the barber and it is implied that McLendon challenges the barber to a duel outside.  McLendon is incensed by even the thought of giving Willie Mayes the benefit of a doubt or the chance to prove himself.  While the barber believes in Mayes’ innocence, or at least his right to proven himself so, McLendon has already convicted Mayes in his mind; Mayes is guilty not matter what.  These two men represent opposite ends of the spectrum of beliefs in the town, two extremes.  While most people believe Miss Minne’s story that Mayes raped her, several times throughout the story it has been suggested that she has maybe made it all up.  One of her old classmates and friends ask another woman “Do you suppose anything really happened?”  There is always an element of doubt lingering the air, though most people, like McLendon, are quick to judge Mayes harshly because of the color of his skin.&lt;br /&gt; One of the scenes, when taken a certain way, may add credence to the idea that Miss Minnie Cooper made her rape story up.  One night after the story has circulated town, Minnie and her friends go to the movies, but before the show even begins Minnie begins to laugh uncontrollably, continuing all through the night.  Nothing can stop her, and it appears that she has lost her mind.  These hysterics seem to suggest that there is something nor right about Miss Minnie; something is driving her to insanity.  It is possible that the rape has sent her over the edge, but, to me, it seems more likely that she is hiding something, and the guilt of lying is eating away at her.  It is also peculiar that she is laughing.  This might suggest that she thinks it is funny that she has fooled the town with her story, or that she finds the attention on the wrong rapist amusing in a sick and twisted way.  &lt;br /&gt; In the end, it does not matter whether Willie Mayes raped Miss Minnie or not.  “Dry September” is less about this incident and more about the nature of people and racism in the South.  Miss Minnie is an example of fading old money, a spinster who is “forced into” adultery.  Willie Mayes is a black man, but not matter how a good a man he is, how kind and honest, he is still persecuted for a crime he may not have committed.  The final scene, where McLendon comes home late, suggests that something sinister has happened, and the reader is left with the sense that Willie Mayes has paid his dues, time after time, done his sentence, but committed no crime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3667332714352675839?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3667332714352675839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/did-he-or-didnt-he_06.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3667332714352675839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3667332714352675839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/did-he-or-didnt-he_06.html' title='Did He? Or Didn&apos;t He?'/><author><name>Rebekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00635182202111734458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-7158280388166638533</id><published>2010-04-06T16:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T16:25:05.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Nancy</title><content type='html'>That Evening Sun Go Down seemed to contain many allusions to mysterious fears. The dark ditch in which the man is supposedly hidden, for instance, seems to be symbolic of faceless fears in the dark.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;I say “faceless fears” because I was not fully convinced that Nancy was hiding from Jubah. Perhaps there was a lack of reader comprehension on my part, but it did seem that Nancy considered Jubah a good man in her life: “Jubah always been good to me…Whenever he had two dollars, one of them was mine.” I wondered if Nancy was more afraid of the white man, the Baptist deacon. Perhaps it was the deacon hiding the razor “on the string down his back.” Perhaps it was the deacon who gave Jubah his scar. Or maybe, once again, I simply did not fully understand this short story.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;Whether Nancy feared Jubah, the deacon, or Jubah’s reaction to her pregnancy (presumably by the deacon), what I took from the story was Nancy’s helplessness and the lack of support she received from the white community, specifically the Compsons – the people she believed could truly help her.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;In the novel, it is repeated, by Caddy and especially Jason, that Nancy is a “nigger.” Dilsey and Jubah are also labeled as such, repeatedly. It is interesting that Faulkner includes this, and it seems to speak for the fact that white people define black people by this word and all of the connotations implied therewith – being a “scairdy,” for instance. Not only are the young children aware of this term, in tune with the involved stereotypes, and constantly using it to describe their black acquaintances, but Nancy herself seems to view herself as such as well (“I ain’t nothing but a nigger”). Interestingly enough, when she relays the story of a woman crossing a ditch to get home, she describes a queen.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;Nancy’s fears do not seem to be taken seriously. At one point Caddy tells Jason that he was “scairder than niggers.” It therefore seems that a stereotype associated with black people is superstition or irrational fear. Nancy is a woman living alone without a husband. When the evening sun goes down, she is alone in the dark. So she seems to gravitate toward the light – staying by the fire, leaving it burning once the Compsons leave her alone. Perhaps I am mistaken, but it seems Faulkner wishes the reader to sympathize with Nancy, to see past the outlooks of young Quentin and his siblings and view Nancy as a justifiably scared woman, desperate enough to seek comfort in children. To me, it was very sad how she had to bribe young, helpless children as a means of achieving perceived protection. How she was ultimately left alone by Mr. Compson and the younguns.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;This story seems to contain a theme of change. The town used to be one way, until it changed into another way. Nancy herself was once steady, carrying a bundle on her head that “never bobbed nor wavered.” By the end of the story, she is unsteady. She is described as being outside of herself. Her hand seems to be detached from the rest of her body. She is frightened out of her skin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-7158280388166638533?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/7158280388166638533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/poor-nancy.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7158280388166638533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7158280388166638533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/poor-nancy.html' title='Poor Nancy'/><author><name>MorganMiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10469250277763703536</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3320726869860130630</id><published>2010-04-05T21:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T21:57:07.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Narrator in A Rose for Emily</title><content type='html'>Small-town gossip and general societal nosiness are common themes in most every Faulkner novel. They are also used as a means of relaying the stories themselves, as in Absalom, Absalom, Light in August, and even Soldiers’ Pay. A Rose for Emily, with its nameless, faceless narrator, is no exception.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;As Professor Ethridge said, much is conveyed in the opening sentence of any Faulkner work. In A Rose for Emily, Emily Grierson herself is, off the bat, presented as a “fallen monument.” A monument in any community is often a centerpiece. This idea is enhanced by the implication that Miss Emily, despite being a recluse, is a highly known – the women were curious to see the inside of her house, the entire town attended her funeral.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;The story, as shown in the very first sentence, is told from the perspective of the town itself. Although the reader cannot know from the first line that the narrator will never be developed as his/her own person, he/she is presented as part of a collective from the very beginning (“our whole town”). The fact that the narrator never develops an identity of his/her own enhances the idea of small-town gossip and nosiness. All of the information attained by the reader is told by the voice of this narrator, this faceless member of a community. Therefore, everything the reader learns about Emily herself is presented through the eyes of the community. We do not see the inside of Miss Emily’s house after all of those years of solitude until the community itself enters and sees for itself the dead man and the gray hair upon the pillow.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;I cannot say why Faulkner chose to tell the story in this way, nor why he titled it A Rose for Emily. A rose implies passion, romance, and danger. For the most part, Miss Emily is seen as a passionless person. She is a person lacking vivaciousness. She is in that claustrophobic, dusty house, hidden. People disappear through the front door; they disappear out the back door. I suppose the point is, nobody knows what goes on in Miss Emily’s home or, even more, in her mind or heart. We only know that we see the iron-gray hair on the pillow beside a presumable lover.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3320726869860130630?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3320726869860130630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/narrator-in-rose-for-emily.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3320726869860130630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3320726869860130630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/narrator-in-rose-for-emily.html' title='Narrator in A Rose for Emily'/><author><name>MorganMiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10469250277763703536</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3708900623467170604</id><published>2010-04-05T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T20:05:02.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Absalom, Absalom: A Ghost(ish) Story</title><content type='html'>For me, the most captivating aspect of Absalom, Absalom is the relationship between Henry and Judith Sutpen. This brother/sister relationship contains competitiveness, incestuous urges, and telepathic connectivity. What struck me most about their particular relationship was the idea that I had read about similar relationships in other novels. In Donna Tartt’s contemporary The Secret History, it is discovered by an outsider protagonist that a set of twins is engaging in sexual activities with one another. Furthermore, the female twin, like Judith Sutpen, is described as having masculine qualities. In Henry James’ The Turn of the Screw, siblings Flora and Miles are interpreted by their nursemaid as sexually corrupted beings with telepathic powers. It is important to note that what we find out about Henry and Judith’s strange relationship is also an interpretation, in this case from Quentin’s father, one of several narrators relaying the rise and fall of the Sutpen family in Absalom, Absalom.&lt;br /&gt;  Quentin’s father says: “…perhaps this is the pure and perfect incest: the brother realizing that the sister’s virginity must be destroyed in order to have existed at all, taking that virginity in the person of the brother-in-law, the man whom he would be if he could become, metamorphose into, the lover…” This is, in fact, mere speculation on the part of Quentin’s father, Mr. Compson. However, it is so twisted and clever that I, who has only the words on the page as evidence, took it to be true of Henry’s relationship toward his sister. Henry’s urge for Charles Bon, whose every act he emulates, to marry (and presumably bed) his sister is interpreted by Mr. Compson as a way of, somehow, “de-virginizing” Judith on his own and, thereby, somehow, controlling that loss of the precious. &lt;br /&gt; As for their mystical connectivity, Mr. Compson discusses “that telepathy with which as children they seemed at times to anticipate one another’s actions as two birds leave a limb at the same instant.” Mr. Compson/Faulkner also uses the word “clairvoyance.” &lt;br /&gt; This novel is an epic account of a man’s attempt to acquire a name and a place in this life. However, the account of Sutpen’s children by Mr. Compson gives the Sutpen saga the feel of a ghost story at times. The mentions of clairvoyance, spells and body-snatchings (“as though it actually were the brother who had put the spell on the sister, seduced her to his own vicarious image which walked and breathed with Bon’s body”), as well as the image of Miss Rosa Coldfield creeping around as a child, listening behind closed doors, certainly give the novel an eerie quality, and make the story within the story read like a ghost story (a la The Turn of the Screw).  &lt;br /&gt; It is not only a ghost story because of its, at times, chilling nature. There is also the fact that actual figures from the past are being conjured and mingling with those of the present. This can be most clearly seen in the re-telling of the story by Quentin and his roommate Shreve: “First two of them, then four; now two again. The room was indeed tomblike…”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3708900623467170604?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3708900623467170604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/absalom-absalom-ghostish-story.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3708900623467170604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3708900623467170604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/absalom-absalom-ghostish-story.html' title='Absalom, Absalom: A Ghost(ish) Story'/><author><name>MorganMiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10469250277763703536</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-1395086503725305823</id><published>2010-04-05T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T19:29:10.918-07:00</updated><title type='text'>As I Lay Dying</title><content type='html'>I'm going to honestly say that this novel made me, as a reader, want to die. It was a great attempt by Faulkner, just not a great delivery. Faulkner wrote this novel using stream of conscious allowing the characters in the novel to give their point of view. Many of the ideas in the novel were hard to catch on to especially the idea of the dying mother being a fish. I didn't understand why that was so. Anywho, I was also tired of the country setting which Faulkner seems to include in nearly every novel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The characters in &lt;em&gt;As I Lay Dying&lt;/em&gt; were not very interesting to me either. The only character I had an appreciation for was Dr. Peabody. He viewed the family the same way I do. He's able to point out the absurdity in the actions of others in the novel. For example, it was absurd that the mother was left in her room only to hear her son create her caufin. It's as if all of her family was waiting for her to die! Her husband also played a part in this theory as well. He was only concerned with their sons heading off to town soon enough to beat the storm so they could make money. Even though he said it was his wife's wishes to be buried in town, he was mainly concerned with the money he would be missing if they didn't make it there before the storm reached their area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is questionable if the woman's children and her husband loved her at all. I found myself asking this question when noticing the time and attention Cash gave to creating her cauffin but the little emotion he exhibited to the fact that it was for his dying mother. He seemed unmoved that his mother was inside their home hanging on to life. Their love for her was also questionable when I noticed that none of her children visited her often. She was only accompanied by a young woman taking care of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faulkner did a great job with setting up an eerie and heartfelt setting, but the interesting aspects of the novel were lost. As a reader, I was unable to tap into the novel and really enjoy it. I felt like there was a lot going on but yet still not enough to make it interesting. Sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-1395086503725305823?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/1395086503725305823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/as-i-lay-dying.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1395086503725305823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1395086503725305823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/as-i-lay-dying.html' title='As I Lay Dying'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06218241246620610109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__S7ZPeHLXEU/S2n3DMencoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/JqreuJtjWRQ/S220/Kristen+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3863999499351539438</id><published>2010-04-05T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T18:19:48.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"A Rose for Emily"</title><content type='html'>I absolutely LOVE this story. I had the chance to read &lt;em&gt;A Rose for Emily &lt;/em&gt;in high school but I had no idea William Faulkner was the author. As a matter of fact, that really surprised me. This is one of his best pieces. Faulkner's usage of symbolism in such a short piece was very well done. In third person narrative he clearly described a southern belle, named Miss Emily, and what it means to grow up with an image to uphold. However, the prestige that comes with the image can cause damage to one's life as seen in Miss Emily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Life, love, and normality was left void in Miss Emily's life. As a member of the elite Grierson family, Miss Emily was isolated from the outside world and deprived of having an ordinary life. The same luxurious home that all the people in Miss Emily's neighborhood envied is symbolized as the torture chamber in which Miss Emily lived in for all her days. The home grew an identity to represent Miss Emily. The house is described as "an eyesore among eyesores" and Miss Emily is described in a much more detailed and grotesque image as being "bloated like a body long submeged in motionless water, and of that pallid hue." She is nearly described as a walking corpse. This also sheds light on how everyone in the community grew to view Miss Emily. Even though Miss Emily came from the reknowned Grierson family which symbolized the Southern romantic persona, Miss Emily became a burden on the town because she refused to tidy her home and pay her taxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   In addition to life and normality, Miss Emily also forfeited love in her quest to uphold her family's name and prestige. When Miss Emily noticed the wandering personality of the only man she ever loved besides her father, Homer Barron, she bought arsenic and killed him. She kept his corpse in her bed where she slept laying next to him every night. This is the part of the story that always stuck with me. I always found it strangely interesting that she was comfortable and secure with a corpse laying next to her every night. I also wondered why Miss Emily felt that true love stopped with Homer Barron. This made me feel as though Miss Emily's only purpose in life was death, so that she could go back to the lifestyle that she knew best, one involving the warmth and comfort of her deceased love ones and deceased husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   The third person narrative to explain the events surrounding Miss Emily gave a more interesting account of why Miss Emily lived the way she did and the absurdity of her actions. It also gives the feel of being on the outside looking in the way everyone in Miss Emily's town were positioned in viewing the actions that went on inside her home. From this point of view, the story is more shocking and mind-blowing. Faulkner did a superb job with offering the surprise through this person's perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   This is definitely a great read and I would recommend it to anyone. I'm happy I read it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Kristen&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3863999499351539438?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3863999499351539438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/rose-for-emily.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3863999499351539438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3863999499351539438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/rose-for-emily.html' title='&quot;A Rose for Emily&quot;'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06218241246620610109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__S7ZPeHLXEU/S2n3DMencoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/JqreuJtjWRQ/S220/Kristen+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-5963342905766469381</id><published>2010-04-05T14:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T14:09:17.852-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faulkner the sweetheart</title><content type='html'>I really like “A Rose for Emily” so I’m going to post again, not only because I’m slightly desperate to make up a few, really. Like I mentioned in my previous post, I read one of Faulkner’s interviews on “A Rose for Emily.” This dialogue led me to start thinking of this story as a southern ghost story, given all of its eerie qualities and its focal position in the past.  I think that the story is utterly haunted; reappearing words like “once been” emphasize the importance of the past from the very beginning to the end of this story which circulates in a sporadic time frame around a funeral and death. If we look in to the characters names, as we always do with Faulkner, we will notice that Emily’s last name, Grierson, almost contains the word eerie.  Mentions of shadows, dust, and “a close, dank smell” are suggestive of life after death or an open coffin. Emily is described as submerged, perhaps like a ghost that lingers on earth unable to enter heaven. This could be one way I would support that the conflict of God and Satan, as I mentioned in my previous post, is present here because Emily is so much like a ghost trapped between these realms. One example of her being stuck in the middle is that she knows and is taught that every woman must marry yet she is unable to do so because her father denies her this opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think all of the allusions to death and the afterlife have one very important objective here. Perhaps Faulkner, in his attempt to tell a story about the human experience, is demonstrating the inevitability of Miss Emily’s fate. She is predestined to be lonely, has been submerged by her father her whole life, and remains steadfast in her traditional ways, which no longer are valid in present Jefferson (exemplified by her refusal to pay taxes). &lt;br /&gt;Faulkner wants us to recognize that Miss Emily is different and unusual. He describes her as “what would have been merely plumpness in another was obesity in her.” We have to interpret this as Faulkners way of alluding to the uniqueness of Miss Emily’s existence. I believe this uniqueness forces the reader to relate Miss Emily to that of a ghost. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In every way Emily is a ghost. This story is of that ghost, that stranger, whose would have never been told nor know. Moreover, it’s as if the story itself is a ghost, one that is “on a paper of archaic shape, in a thin, flowing calligraphy in faded ink,” at least I could have imagined it to be. In telling it, Faulkner is demonstrating his respect and offering tribute to Miss Emily’s experience. I think it symbolizes something quite simple actually, I think it’s like Faulkner communicating to this character via letter and on that letter it says,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt; Here is a rose for you Emily.&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Faulkner. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-5963342905766469381?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/5963342905766469381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/faulkner-sweetheart.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5963342905766469381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5963342905766469381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/faulkner-sweetheart.html' title='Faulkner the sweetheart'/><author><name>colbyjamrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='17' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SU1cYzy08wU/Sbh8iUSkyiI/AAAAAAAAAA8/-44uRgogudM/S220/FISHIES.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-6886911005327804192</id><published>2010-04-05T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T13:40:14.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Conflict in A Rose for Emily</title><content type='html'>My reading of “A Rose for Emily” this semester came with new connotations and appreciations. In high school I generally understood this story to be symbolic of the conflict between the North and the South, the old and the new. Even more so, I recall it being argued that the conflict in the story was between good and evil. I researched this interpretation to see if it was the focal point I once believed it to be and I found some very interesting insights given by Faulkner.  When questioned about “A Rose for Emily” in an interview he says that the conflict of the story was “not between North and the South so much as between, well you might say, God and Satan.” I came to interpret this in several ways. My first instinct was to trust Faulkner’s words and locate a more personal, internal conflict rooted in Miss. Emily. Then I remembered how often Faulkner alludes to the opposite when speaking of his works. Ultimately I felt the conflict of the North and South was present, however, I also found it to be less intentional than his main objective which was curiously more personal. Faulkner says, “I was simply trying to write about people.” I find the aforementioned to be all too evident in this bone chilling story, which exposes the internal conflict within the mysterious Miss Emily by way of describing her surroundings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was wondering what other people thought about this story in terms of the conflict; that is, does any one see the conflict between God and Satan? Is it important?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-6886911005327804192?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/6886911005327804192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/conflict-in-rose-for-emily.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6886911005327804192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6886911005327804192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/04/conflict-in-rose-for-emily.html' title='Conflict in A Rose for Emily'/><author><name>colbyjamrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='17' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SU1cYzy08wU/Sbh8iUSkyiI/AAAAAAAAAA8/-44uRgogudM/S220/FISHIES.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-335070516381938334</id><published>2010-03-24T17:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T18:02:55.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quentin's back for a sequel! Or a prequel?</title><content type='html'>It only took a few pages for Faulkner to reveal that Quentin Compson would make an appearance in a completely different novel. Although Absalom, Absalom! was published after the Sound and the Fury (Quentin's first appearance), Absalom's events take place years before The Sound and the Fury, before and during his time at Harvard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reader stumbles upon the same old Quentin. Quentin is not Absalom's protagonist, but he is a main role player, and catalyst for the novel's events. Quentin seeks the truth in the same obsessive fashion that distinguished him from others characters in Fury. Quentin approaches the issue like a detective, seeking justice for his long gone grandfather. Thomas Sutpen is the protagonist of Absalom, Absalom!. Quentin follows his trail, futilely due to the different biased, and mythical accounts of several people who knew him. This only adds more mania to Quentin's manic ways. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore, there is no evolution, or regression in Quentin. He is the exact same young man we witnessed rising and falling. His issues with Caddy are much more significant than anything presented to us in this novel, but Quentin's behavior is identical to that of Sound and the Fury. Faulkner seems to know Quentin so well, that his new portrayal in Absalom is completely accurate. Quentin, although arguably the most fatal character, is closest to Faulkner. Quentin and Faulkner share the same obsession with lineage, and family history. Both have a need to decipher things that were not even relevant to their time. Things they never witnessed afflicted them enough to find out the missing links, and filling out the mysterious void. Quentin, as a truth seeker for the sake of his own identity and demons, is relentless in his pursuit for Sutpen's true destruction, and General Compson's fall. Quentin, although assuming the role of narrator at times, is not a storyteller. Faulkner is the storyteller, and Quentin is his perfect medium, and vessel to express his innermost concerns and issues. I think that is why Faulkner felt so comfortable in including him in Absalom, Absalom! as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-335070516381938334?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/335070516381938334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/quentins-back-for-sequel-or-prequel.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/335070516381938334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/335070516381938334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/quentins-back-for-sequel-or-prequel.html' title='Quentin&apos;s back for a sequel! Or a prequel?'/><author><name>ungabulunga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09339205262795618618</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-6238979366684454570</id><published>2010-03-24T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T16:01:16.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Minor Themes : Big Deal</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Absalom, Absalom!&lt;/em&gt; is Faulkner’s finest work. This was my second time reading &lt;em&gt;Absalom, Absalom! &lt;/em&gt;and I have say that it was less overwhelming than my first and much more rich. One of the themes that I noticed this time was recognition; this theme gets overshadowed because the complex issues of race in the text. All of the male characters—Supten, Henry, and Bon all want recognition. Thomas Supten wants to be recognized as a gentleman. He goes about getting what he needs, in order to get that recognition by acquiring land, a big house, and respectable wife. Henry was recognition from his father, Supten, that he is his son. But, because Henry is most like his mother, Ellen, than Supten he does not receive it. Also, Sutpen is man driven be ambition. He literally views the people in life as means to building this dynasty so that his seed will never have to enter through a back door, thereby never recognized. Charles Bon is Supten’s first son from his first marriage. Bon is a mulatto and a tragic one because he too also wants recognition from Sutpen. Bon wants recognition probably more so than Henry because he is an outsider on three fronts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another minor theme is the transference of information, which actually is history being told of particular characters such as Ms. Coldfied is telling Quinton what she knows about the “demon that caused us to lose the war”. This information is history being transferred from one generation to another. When Quinton asks his father why Ms. Coldfield chooses him to tell this story to, Mr. Compsons’ answer is because Rosa knows Supten told your grandfather about his past and why she, Rosa, did not marry Supten. This history being transferred is yet another bias nostalgic way of carrying on the tradition of the old south. However, beginning with The Sound and the Fury Quinton is already a child of the new south, who accepts blacks as equal and not as inferior. He also witnesses women stripping down that platform of the southern bell role and becoming independent i.e. Candace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-6238979366684454570?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/6238979366684454570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/minor-themes-big-deal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6238979366684454570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6238979366684454570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/minor-themes-big-deal.html' title='Minor Themes : Big Deal'/><author><name>Teresha Ussin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11516516409341345426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3094569749960950739</id><published>2010-03-24T15:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T09:39:13.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Transgressive Women</title><content type='html'>We've discussed before how Faulkner tends to write very transgressive female characters, and the characters of Judith and Clytemnestra in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Absalom, Absalom!&lt;/span&gt; are no exception. The title of the book itself refers back to the Biblical story of Absalom, the traitorous third son of King David. Even though Absalom rebelled against his father and caused great harm to the Israelites, King David was stricken with grief when his son was killed for his betrayal. This allusion sets the tone for the rest of the characters of the novel, all of whom reach a very classical level of tragedy; as Todd pointed out in his post, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Absalom, Absalom! &lt;/span&gt;is the most Greek of all the Faulkner books we've read so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Bible, Judith was a beautiful, rich, respected Jewish widow who saved her people from the Assyrians. According to the story, Judith ventured into the enemy camp with only her handmaiden at her side, and charmed her way into the tent of Holofernes, the commanding general of the Assyrians. She beheads him after he gets drunk and passes out, and carries his head back to the camp of the Israelites. Judith's assumption of the traditionally male role of warrior easily identifies her as a role model for the character of Sutpen's daughter Judith in the novel. Judith, unlike her older brother Henry, can not only stomach the sight of her father fighting with his slaves, but seems to actually relish it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Analogous to the biblical Judith's handmaid, yet carrying a context all her own is the slave and constant companion to Judith, Clytemnestra. In Greek mythology, Clytemnestra, along with her lover, murdered her husband Agamemnon on his return from the Trojan War. Thus Faulkner uses her name to marry her, in a way, to her father Thomas Sutpen (who could be none other than mighty King Agamemnon) and continues his motif of incestual relationships. Clytemnestra sets fire to and destroys Sutpen's Hundred in the end, making her the "heir" to her father's dynasty when she assumes such control over it and decides its fate. This is ironic considering that all Sutpen wanted was a white male to carry on his legacy, which is ultimately destroyed by a half-black female.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(P.S.--I started this before class last night, so sorry if parts of it are a bit redundant).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3094569749960950739?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3094569749960950739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/transgressive-women.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3094569749960950739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3094569749960950739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/transgressive-women.html' title='Transgressive Women'/><author><name>Amanda Williams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12751623429440309796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-793444611601357395</id><published>2010-03-24T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T15:36:07.515-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Southern Tradgedy.</title><content type='html'>Absalom, Absalom! is the most Greek novel of the ones that we’ve read thus far. Faulkner makes numerous references to Greek culture and myth throughout the novel. The one that stuck out the most to me was Miasma. Miasma in Greek culture was like sin. The Greek’s were worried about being impure. Certain actions carried more Miasma than others. Disservices to the gods or a murder were the biggest ways to get miasma. So in tying these characters to a word like Miasma, Faulkner is showing just how doomed they are. The daughters name (Clytie) is said that she should have been Cassandra. Cassandra was the woman blessed with the power of prophecy but cursed with fact that no one would believe her. Her curse and blessing came from her inability to keep a promise to Apollo.  Ellen is categorized as a Niobi without tears. Niobi was a woman who bragged that her twins were better than Apollo and Artemis because she had more of them. This is mirrored in the fact that Henry and Judith have a very close relationship. Niobi however was doomed to lose her children because of her bragging. Again he’s choosing another bit of Greek Mythology to point towards the ultimate doom of the Sutpen line. He’s using all of these established stories in order to flesh out his new story.  His story is a new history that is soon to be rich with it’s own mythology which Faulkner is attempting to create in Yoknapatawpha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-793444611601357395?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/793444611601357395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/southern-tradgedy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/793444611601357395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/793444611601357395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/southern-tradgedy.html' title='The Southern Tradgedy.'/><author><name>Todd</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02972273713818345139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-2489917191215518733</id><published>2010-03-24T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T14:58:13.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Results of a Strange Man's Prejudice and Willfulness</title><content type='html'>Thomas Sutpen is an extremely willful man who seeks to assert his power over more than simply his assets, but his life as well. When things do not go his way, he is willing to walk away from the people in his current life to start a new one, or might go so far as to persuade and force another person to take extreme measures. It is easy to connect that, each death (At the very least, each murder) is a result of Thomas Sutpen’s meddling or involvement. Charles Bon met his end at the hands of his closest friend Henry for several reasons, but most importantly it was because Charles was part black, and also because he was Thomas’ own son. Henry immediately flew into a rage after his father, Thomas Sutpen, gave the information that noted Charles as partially black. This associated with the fact that Charles was about to marry Henry’s sister, led to the inevitable murder of Charles. All of which would have been avoided if not for Thomas’ very existence. &lt;br /&gt; Thomas feels like a list of bad choices in life. If he had remained married to his first wife, even though she and his son were partially black, the story would have been different but the murders would not have occurred, if only for the fact that Henry and his sister would not have existed. But also, Thomas himself would not have been murdered, and neither would have Milly Jones (most likely). If not this, then if Thomas had said nothing about Charles’ partial ethnicity, it is likely that Henry might have never found out unless someone else brought it up (Which is unlikely since Thomas, Eulalia and Charles were three of the very few number of people who knew). At this, Charles and Judith would have married, and the Sutpen and Bon families would likely have had a better chance of surviving. &lt;br /&gt; The basic idea is that Thomas holds most of the responsibility for the way that this entire story ended, which can be considered fairly amazing that his actions and words were enough to destroy the future of his family, as well as his own life. This story certainly focuses on the consequences of extreme prejudice, and the amount of external and internal damage that it can bring to an individual. It also focuses the violent personality within the “civilized” mindset of the Southern families. Thomas was considered a bit of a demon, even a savage, and focused only on his wants and needs, instead of that of the family he now had, or the responsibilities he held over others. It seemed more like every slave served more as a form of personal satisfaction, whether through sex or violence simply depended on the gender. It is possible that this shows just how unlikely it is to create something like a family and a strong name in the South when the founder of said family holds no understanding of what it means to be a southerner, nor does he have any inclination to wish to learn, even though it makes such a mess of himself and those connected to him by the end of it all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-2489917191215518733?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/2489917191215518733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/results-of-strange-mans-prejudice-and.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2489917191215518733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2489917191215518733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/results-of-strange-mans-prejudice-and.html' title='The Results of a Strange Man&apos;s Prejudice and Willfulness'/><author><name>Pilotace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16629258517207973978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-2310280674434873608</id><published>2010-03-17T15:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T15:48:26.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Joe Christmas</title><content type='html'>It is easy to see Joe Christmas as simply an evil and angry man. While misunderstood is a possible definition for the reaction of the mill workers and other people, Joe Christmas partially placed himself within that situation with his silent and brooding nature, keeping closed within the presence of others, so much so that the reader also has a weak understanding of who Joe Christmas really is. This may be because Joe Christmas does not understand himself and makes no effort to try to. Because of that, Joe’s actions do not reflect who he is, or who he wants to be, simply because he does not know. Instead, he acts in accordance to his desires and his needs, trying to get money the honest way, before quickly deciding that illegal liquor works out better in gaining his desires. Similarly, his own life is important to him enough that he would kill to defend it without shame, although he does not realize the moral implications of such actions. For example, by killing his foster father, Bobbie and her acquaintances cut all ties to Joe, leaving Joe to run away and begin to wander on his own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His desires and his needs also focus on the present day. He has no desire for finding out about his racial heritage or his birth name, even if it might bring meaning to his life or help him find a place to call home. Even so, he does desire and find something to bring food to him, and a woman to stay by his side, although he does not understand the nuances of holding a relationship, which eventually ends horrifically. Most of it is not the fault of Joe Christmas, as they are things that he mainly had very little control over. Being abandoned and then raised in bad conditions brought up a man who simply knew he wanted to live but did not know why and did not know how to find out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-2310280674434873608?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/2310280674434873608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/joe-christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2310280674434873608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2310280674434873608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/joe-christmas.html' title='Joe Christmas'/><author><name>Pilotace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16629258517207973978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-7154505911683452136</id><published>2010-03-17T15:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T16:07:25.725-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts on Christmas. Racism too.</title><content type='html'>Joe Christmas has to be one of my favorite characters in any Faulkner novel right now. Christmas has so many character qualities that I don't even know where to begin. Faulkner presents us with a multifaceted protagonist that has plenty to offer. It doesn't matter how much you extract from Christmas because I think there will always be something missing. Needless to say, I can't wait for the discussion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I find interesting about Joe Christmas is his placement in the novel. Christmas is going through the worst possible conundrum, for he is not quite white, or black. This leaves him in a constant limbo, and alienated from two different communities who do not accept him. Racially, Joe Christmas is ahead of his time, a time that condemns the person that he is. In a way, Yoknawpatawpha County and Jefferson, Mississippi are the two worst places for Christmas to live in. This predicament only contributes to his misanthropic tendencies, and brooding qualities, that stem from his lack of identity. Not only is he mixed, but he is a bastard child with no origin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Faulkner initially presents Joe Christmas as a character just looking for his way to thrive in such a harsh environment, and the reader may or may not be empathetic for him. As the novel develops, we see Christmas' true colors. His nature is partly fueled by his struggle, but primarily due to the violence that characterized his life. By the end of the novel, there is no possible way that you can feel sorry for Christmas. Although some characters that he inflicts harm on are conflicted, Christmas is mostly apathetic to human life, because said humans never gave him a real chance. What Christmas doesn't know though, is that he eliminated the people that symbolized his way out, the good path. He does the damage to himself, and as you finish the novel, you can conclude that Faulkner created a monster for a monstrous setting like Yoknapatawpha County, a place in which we rarely see any good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Light in August, compared to the other novels, explores racism thoroughly. Granted, racism is present in every novel because they all take place in the American South. However, racism as a major theme, had not been explored by Faulkner yet. I was marveled at Faulkner's impeccable presentation of racism in the early 30's is polished, and too informed. Faulkner does not really assume a white man's perspective, even though he is a white author, from a good background. Rather, his style lacks bias, and to me, is devoid intentional racism or disdain for African Americans. If Faulkner penned a novel about Amazonian Indians, he could definitely pull it off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-7154505911683452136?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/7154505911683452136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/thoughts-on-christmas-racism-too.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7154505911683452136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7154505911683452136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/thoughts-on-christmas-racism-too.html' title='Thoughts on Christmas. Racism too.'/><author><name>ungabulunga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09339205262795618618</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-6774081255660270409</id><published>2010-03-17T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T16:19:50.369-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Soap Opera</title><content type='html'>I was very disappointed with &lt;em&gt;Light in August&lt;/em&gt;. I’ll take the dark and gothic Sanctuary any day over the soap opera that is Light in August. Every character has something hanging over their head. Yes, there is enduring moments where I felt for the characters such as Joe Christmas, who is rejected because of his biracial background and ends up being raised by religious fanatics. Then there is Lena, who literally seems to be the ‘light’ in the novel. Lena’s character surprised me because up until this point, I’ve been presented with mostly antagonist/unredeemable characters by Faulkner. Faulkner took a different route this time by giving me a character…no, actually two characters, Joe Christmas and Lena Groove, whom are truly victims of their circumstances. Faulkner gave a classic southern stereotype— the tragic mulatto, Joe Christmas; this is a man, who from birth is seen, but hidden and he carries the burden of not belonging. He fits neither in the white, nor black community; therefore, he is society‘s orphan because he disrupts the social order. Lena Grove is this saint, and I kept wondering how could such a misfortune happen to a girl so good like Lena? Also, what I found to be pleasant surprise about Lena is that she is not too concerned about what other people think  about her pregnancy as did Dewey Dell or Candace did. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I guess what annoyed me about &lt;em&gt;Light in August&lt;/em&gt; was the constant miscellaneous drama that one could watch daily on &lt;em&gt;The Young and the Restless&lt;/em&gt;. To me, it’s as if Faulkner didn’t give much thought to the development of the plot, in order to create aesthetic drama. So there is no depth in this book for me. As always there was a lot of symbolism and imagery, but no depth. I felt like this was rushed piece of work on Faulkner’s part and he creates these miscellaneous incidents to fill wholes in the story. For example, there was no need for Joe Christmas and Joanna Burden’s affair. Joe is already the most tragic of all characters in the novel or Mrs. Hines believing that Lena is her long lost daughter, when Mrs. Hines knows her daughter is dead. Its tedious incidents that Faulkner makes his characters fall into without much thought. I get what Faulkner was trying to do with the multipliable narrators. However, I always have a problem with trusting a narrator if he or she is either bitter or angry toward the person, they are talking about, which brings up another theme Faulkner is always trying present and that is, stories are bias tales. There is no objectivity in storytelling even if one character like or love the person they are narrating about; there is still a bias point of view that is being put across. That said I’m looking forward to  next week Absalom, Absalom!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-6774081255660270409?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/6774081255660270409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/soap-opera.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6774081255660270409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6774081255660270409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/soap-opera.html' title='Soap Opera'/><author><name>Teresha Ussin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11516516409341345426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3563471098653914340</id><published>2010-03-17T14:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T14:42:11.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stories within a Story</title><content type='html'>By this point in the class I think a lot of us are reaching Faulkner critical mass.  I believe we are the fifth full novel, and that’s quite a bit of Faulkner.  That being said, I would like to note that even though I’ve read more Faulkner than I might care to have, he still surprises and challenges me.  For example, most of his later works, Sound and the Fury era, seem to have the same feel about them, the same tone and setting.  And while Light in August is shares this overall Faulknerian feeling, it is different in a way, as all of Faulkner’s novels are.  Something that struck me as particularly interesting about Light in August was the amount of narrators the book had.  Nearly all of the action of the story is revealed to the reader through the telling of stories by other characters.&lt;br /&gt; Light in August is mostly narrated through the voices of the characters in the book, but in a special way.  A great deal of the “action” is actually comprised of things that took place many years ago and is being retold from one character to another.  The novel’s current setting spans no more than two months, beginning with Lena Grove’s trek from Alabama and ending with her and Byron Bunch’s journey out of Mississippi.  All in all, though, the present setting action describes only a handful of days from these two months.  Lena arrives in Jefferson on the day that Joe Christmas murders Miss Burden and burns down her house.  Brown spends a few days helping the sheriff look for Christmas, Christmas spends a week on the lamb, Lena has her baby, and then the next day Christmas is caught and subsequently murdered when he attempts to escape.  These events comprise nearly all of the present action.&lt;br /&gt; The majority of the novel, then, is made of stories and histories told by different characters and at times an omniscient narrator.  Miss Burdern tells Christmas of her family’s past--how her father was killed by Colonel Sartoris—Byron tells Hightower about the Christmas and Brown’s bootlegging outfit and how Christmas had a relationship with Miss Burder.  Byron also tells Hightower about the murder of Miss Burden and about how Christmas was caught.  Mrs. Hines relates to Hightower the story of her daughter and grandson, who turns out to be Christmas.  Even the ending chapter is a story told by a Tennessean man to his wife.  He relates the tale of how he picked up Lena Grove and Byron Bunch in Mississippi and brought them to Tennessee.  All of these instances are of one character telling something to another character.  The reader of Light in August is very rarely privy to firsthand accounts of the action of the novel.&lt;br /&gt; The technique of using many different characters to tell a story is not unique to Faulkner or to Light in August.  In fact, Faulkner is known for his use of many and varied narrators.  What does this technique add to a novel, though?  It distances the reader from the action for one thing, such as how the sex in Sanctuary is revealed to the reader through a character who was watching another character watch the two having sex.  This technique also gives the reader several different perspective on one event, and access to information about a great deal more events, than just one single narrator could ever give.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3563471098653914340?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3563471098653914340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/stories-within-story.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3563471098653914340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3563471098653914340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/stories-within-story.html' title='Stories within a Story'/><author><name>Rebekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00635182202111734458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-1939362346361503786</id><published>2010-03-17T14:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T15:27:55.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Identity</title><content type='html'>Identity seems to be the focal point of this novel.&lt;br /&gt;Joe Christmas is attempting to outrun his nature as a half-black man. He’s not even sure what this really means. The only thing he is able to offer to Joanna as explanation of where he comes from is that one of his parents was at least part black. Christmas is worried about how the other perceive him rather than how he feels about himself. He is unable to keep his emotions under control because he feels lost. He is adopted by the McEachems but even at the beginning he thinks to himself “I’m Joe Christmas.” So he has some form of identity that he cannot define verbally or even in thoughts. His attacks on women seem to be part of this hatred of himself. He is rebelling against the woman who birthed him into the world. He can find something better.  He runs through the black part of town because it bears down on him. &lt;br /&gt;Joe Brown changes his name to run from Lena.  His identity is nothing. Once one town is burned he can easily find himself a new with a new name because his identity is not tied to his name. He works at the mill but only because he needs the money and only until he is willing to sell out his friend for a bit of money. It is really unclear as to whether he started the fire to cover up Christmas’ crime or whether he simply saw the  house on fire and went to investigate himself.&lt;br /&gt;Lena has no questions about who she is and what she is doing. She is simply searching for Lucas. She is undeterred by anything that may be in her path. She is on the road to find Lucas and that is what she manages. Her character stays the same throughout the novel. She is the same woman, searching for the same man when the novel closes.&lt;br /&gt;The Reverend is interesting because he has obviously changed in some way because of his encounter with the people but it is not clear exactly what this means for him. He is willing to lie and give Christmas an alibi by the end of the novel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-1939362346361503786?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/1939362346361503786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/identity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1939362346361503786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1939362346361503786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/identity.html' title='Identity'/><author><name>Todd</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02972273713818345139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-5139068246162657656</id><published>2010-03-17T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T15:34:17.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Illuminating Identity</title><content type='html'>We're not reading about April anymore! I was very happy to see this shift in time, as I think it marks a major maturation in Faulkner's writing. As a Southerner, I can say that the light in August is very different from the rest of the year: it's tangible, almost dusty-feeling, but at the same time makes everything look very vivid. I can't think of a word for it, but it's like a "heavy" shimmering, if that makes any sense. I think the combination of drowsiness from the heat and the brilliance of the colors evoke a dream-like state where one could imagine anything coming up the road, from a man named "Joe Christmas" to the galloping ghost of a Confederate soldier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the emphasis on light in the title is suggestive of one of the novel's major themes: identity, or the lights in which we view ourselves and others. Three of the main characters--Lena Grove, Joe Christmas, Reverend Hightower, and Byron Bunch--all exemplify the struggle to capture and identify the self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lena sees herself only in terms of her physical being and her concrete goals. Her existence when we meet her is simply this: she is pregnant and she is going to find Lucas Burch and marry him, even if that means walking all the way from Alabama. She alone of all the characters knows exactly what she wants and acts accordingly. The surety and peacefulness with which Lena moves makes many of the other characters (like her runaway lover and Joe Christmas),  seem empty and frantic. But I wonder if Faulkner is holding Lena up as the ideal model of existence? She is destined to be thwarted in her endeavor to marry Burch, and forever blinded to any possible happiness with Byron Bunch because he is not the one she thinks she is seeking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe Christmas is perhaps the least understandable yet one of the most intriguing characters of the novel. His whole existence so far has been miserably defined by external forces: race, religion, and sex. Continually faced with being "black", a "man" or a "Presbyterian", Joe finds his personhood cannot be fully illuminated by the lights in which society tries to see him. He "only wants some peace and quiet" but he has been forced out of society and his ensuing anger gives him no rest. In the end, he is killed for daring to have some African-American blood, castrated for being a man, and shot in a way reminiscent of Christ on the cross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reverend Hightower is, obviously, defined by the past. However, these pasts do not belong to him, they are primarily of his unstable wife and his long dead grandfather. We do not know where he comes from or why he has chosen this path, but this is actually all unimportant in understanding his character for he only understands himself in the light of history. Perhaps the present is so frightening and volatile that the past provides the only stability for life in the modern world. He is temporarily awakened from his reverie by the hapless plight of poor Lena, but the end of the novel sees him alone in Jefferson again, abandoned even by the his sole friend, Byron Bunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end of the novel suggests the ultimately circular nature of time in general, as Lena finds herself still on the road, contemplating how far she is come and how much further she must go, and Hightower is still bereft of any connection to the present. This tone of inevitability suggests that people come and go, passions grow and die, but the light in August always remains the same.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-5139068246162657656?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/5139068246162657656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/illuminating-identity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5139068246162657656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5139068246162657656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/illuminating-identity.html' title='Illuminating Identity'/><author><name>Amanda Williams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12751623429440309796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-4621158712635455662</id><published>2010-03-17T13:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T13:48:32.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Foreigners, Drifters, Strangers, Orphans</title><content type='html'>I have to admit that I have not yet finished this novel. I am, in fact, just halfway through. The truth is, it is my favorite novel we have read in this class so far. Much as I loved The Sound &amp;amp; the Fury, I feel Light in August is the first purely &lt;em&gt;good story &lt;/em&gt;I have read from Faulkner, unhindered by fancy language and confusing structure and incomprehinsible symbolism. Because I love it so much and because I am planning on writing my final essay on it, I am reading it slowly, savoring it to the end. Hopefully my nerdiness has been established enough so that this does not sound like an excuse, but as the slightly pathetic truth that it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Light in August is full of foreigners, drifters, strangers, orphans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The foreigner/drifter/stranger/orphan who most interested me was Joe Christmas. One thing I found very interesting about Joe were his relationships with women, beginning with the dietician at the orphanage, who saw him as a person, albeit little, capable of destroying her. Ironically, innocent little Joe Christmas grows up a man who does destroy: who beats women and murders his father with only a chair and his rage. Of course, we are meant to sympathize with him. Only Faulkner could make it so that I sympathize with a woman-beater.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an orphan, first arriving at the house of McEachern, Joe is unused to the kindnesses of Mrs. McEachern. This I found to be among the most interesting descriptions of his relationship with his adoptive mother:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It was not the hard work which he hated, nor the punishment and injustice...He expected no less, and so he was neither outraged nor surprised. It was the woman: that soft kindness which he believed himself doomed to be forever victim of and which he hated worse than he did the hard and ruthless justice of men. 'She is trying to make me cry,' he thought..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would appear that Joe Christmas is afraid of love, as cliche as that may sound. Tenderness seems to frighten him, perhaps because it is something he is not accustomed to. It could be that the unpredictable, unfathomable behavior of the dietician upset his understanding. Maybe it was simply the orphanage itself that hardened him and made him uncomfortable with kindness. It is more complicated than this, though, because he does grow very fond of the waitress. He grows angry at Ms. Burden for growing old and he cares for Bobbie, with whom he has sex. On top of this, he is outraged by the menstrual cycle. Maybe he can only care for a woman if she can be used for sex?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another interesting aspect of Joe Christmas is his "foreigner" status. We learn fairly quickly that he is a black man, a "negro". He does not fully belong with the white people, as is made very evident by their reactions to him. They do not accept him. And while he may not care to be accepted by them, while he may wish to be part of the negro community, it is not the be either:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...his white chest arches deeper and deeper within his ribcage, trying to breathe into himself the dark odor, the dark and inscrutable thinking and being of negroes, with each suspiration trying to expel from himself the white blood and the white thinking and being."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One reason for Joe Christmas's wandering ways is that he was "trying to escape...himself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides Christmas, there is Lena Grove, an orphan who drifts into Jefferson with her swollen belly; Ms. Burden, carrying the burden of white people ("the curse of every white child that ever was born"), living as a foreigner, but not a stranger, in the south, a product of the drifting, foreign Burdens before her; Reverand Hightower, reclusive and unaccepted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, it is such a lovely book!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-4621158712635455662?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/4621158712635455662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/foreigners-drifters-strangers-orphans.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4621158712635455662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4621158712635455662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/foreigners-drifters-strangers-orphans.html' title='Foreigners, Drifters, Strangers, Orphans'/><author><name>MorganMiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10469250277763703536</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-5404634120865840516</id><published>2010-03-17T13:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T13:25:41.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey Joe</title><content type='html'>Joe Christmas is an interesting character in the novel. At first, my reaction was that of the townspeople who thought he was a funny foreigner. He seemed a bit sketchy to me at first, but as the novel progressed I tended to favor his character over the others in the novel. In the beginning it was difficult to understand why he was the way he is,but then we get a flashback of his childhood which shows us that he is of "negro blood" and had an awful crazy Christian bible quoting father who would beat him for not knowing his catechism. I ultimately felt sorry for Joe. He was clearly in search of acceptance and belonging, but was never truly successful in finding this. Joe is a battered and tortured soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faulkner clearly has issues with the Christian way of life, maybe more so, the Southern Christian way of life. Perhaps in his own life, he found it to be stressful and full of hypocrisy. His writings are his way of expressing his anger. Also, in terms of anger, Faulkner has a hatred for women, and it's hard to understand why.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say that &lt;em&gt;A Light in August&lt;/em&gt; was a decent read, maybe better than &lt;em&gt;Sound and the Fury&lt;/em&gt; and&lt;em&gt; As I Lay Dying.&lt;/em&gt; It was easy to follow and understand&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;  If there was a point to the story(which is diffficult to find in a lot of Faulkner's work), I guess it would be the road to self-identity and acceptance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I'm not sure why, but &lt;em&gt;Hey Joe&lt;/em&gt; by Jimi Hendrix came to mind when I read this story,especially Joe Christmas' character.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-5404634120865840516?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/5404634120865840516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/hey-joe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5404634120865840516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5404634120865840516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/hey-joe.html' title='Hey Joe'/><author><name>j_axo10</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12020772884342593126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-6731433034331656593</id><published>2010-03-17T09:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T10:06:33.821-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tierney M. Donovan'/><title type='text'>Light in August</title><content type='html'>Something that stuck out to me in this novel were the names of the characters. Lena Grove, Lucas Burch,  Byron Bunch,  Rev. Hightower, Mr. McEachern, Miss Burden (who, in my head I kept calling Bundren)-- all of the names have significance to the character. Every new character that was introduced made me stop and think about what the possible meaning of their name could be.&lt;br /&gt;I liked how the book was framed by Lena Grove, having come a "fur-piece" and then, by the time it ends she is back in focus and still has "a fur-piece to go." This is a small detail, but I liked it.&lt;br /&gt;I also liked that &lt;em&gt;Light in August&lt;/em&gt; had about a bunch of different people, very different people, who were all separate from society in some way. Lena was pregnant out of wedlock but a very likable character, which was nice after reading &lt;em&gt;Sanctuary&lt;/em&gt; and not liking anyone. I liked a lot of the characters in this book.  Byron Bunch separates himself from people purposefully, Rev. Hightower had scandalous past because of his wife and is in Jefferson despite being targeted at times. And Joe Christmas is an angry guy who seems to really hate women. This made me wonder about Faulkner's possible deep seated feelings toward women, but I might just be looking too far into Christmas' actions. He seemed to beat up every woman he came across. He was mean, but his character was really interesting. Kind of like how Jason in &lt;em&gt;Sound and the Fury &lt;/em&gt;was, for me. I didn't like Jason but his character was fascinating. It was the same way with Joe Christmas for me. Joe's childhood was so sad. I felt really bad for his foster mother and her repeated attempts to be kind to him, which were met with rejection. He was kind of a brat, in a way, but he obviously has major issues that he is trying to work out -- unsuccessfully.&lt;br /&gt;What happens to Miss Burden confused me. I guess I didn't really understand the relationship  between Joe Christmas and her, either. I might have missed something (as I tend to do when reading Faulkner), but why did she want to kill him? Was it because she was pregnant? And why did he kill her in a such a horrible way? (Not that being murdered could be pleasant, but it seemed really brutal).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Light in August&lt;/em&gt; was a really good read. I was nervous about it because of &lt;em&gt;Sanctuary&lt;/em&gt;, but was pleasantly surprised. &lt;em&gt;As I Lay Dying&lt;/em&gt; is still my favorite, but this one was really great too. I was so wanting some kind of a Bundren appearance in this book! But no luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-6731433034331656593?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/6731433034331656593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/light-in-august.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6731433034331656593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6731433034331656593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/light-in-august.html' title='Light in August'/><author><name>Tierney Donovan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05923801274619800137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-4923531758601808238</id><published>2010-03-16T23:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T00:19:45.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas and murder</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A Light in August is one of the most religious Faulkner novels that we've read yet. Not only does the title suggest it (Christ, light), but the characters all searching, the omniscient third person (Godlike) narrator, and the plot itself all mirror/juxtapose common Christian motifs. This is not to say that everything in this novel should be read with the intention of only understanding elements through a Christian perspective. No, I think Faulkner would cringe, and he is clearly quite critical of the Christian way of life anyway, shown through characters like Miss Burden and Reverend Hightower and their contrasting, yet imperfect, employments of faith. The interesting turn taken on A Light in August that does not necessarily fit, or must be made to fit and be understood differently than the Bible, or any spiritual readings, is the fact that if there was a Christ character it would be Joe Christmas, and his events unfold because he has slain his father. Is this a take on modern Christianity? Is this a symbolic reference to Faulkner's idea of a "new" Christ who symbolically disavows everything the supposed God and supposed Bible have taught the world? From this extensive soul-searching of Christmas, all that seems to be produced is more soul-searching, and then death. I feel like throughout a lot of Faulkner's writing, there are these characters who are put next to classic figures of Greek or Christianity in order to highlight their depravity in comparison. Joe Christmas would be one; a societal comment sounding something like: "there was once, and now &lt;i&gt;this&lt;/i&gt;." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The killing of one's father is undoubtedly representative of the slaying of an archetype in any situation. Faulkner most likely represents this action as what propels a character to self-exploration, doubt, and isolation, to comment not just on the instability/stability provided for young by a father—but by all patriarchal elements of society. Faulkner was ahead of his time in thought, no doubt, and existed in a southern realm where "ahead" usually translates to "weird". So this severing of cords is symbolic, I think, for Faulkner. At some point, a talented person has to make a distinct decision: Are they going to follow the crowd, go along with established ideals, and join a circus of sameness, or are they going to cut themselves out of the mold in hopes to be "great"? Subconsciously perhaps, Faulkner's decision (even though I in no way think Faulkner is mirroring himself in Joe Christmas) is explained right here in this book. Not only is Faulkner displaying the cutting-off from societal norms, but that of certain mindsets. Of course, this action does not come without consequence. For Joe Christmas, trial, isolation, death. For Faulkner, however, it is to be determined what "price" he felt he payed for his devotion to soul-searching over praising the masses. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And perhaps this is the rub: Religion has become the code for the masses in one sense or another. It's become a crutch, an excuse, and a club... especially in the south where culture is so rich that new customs are harder to catch on. Faulkner looks at the stagnation of religion with a critical eye, acknowledging that truth mostly exists outside the realm of the "taught".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-4923531758601808238?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/4923531758601808238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/christmas-and-murder.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4923531758601808238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4923531758601808238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/christmas-and-murder.html' title='Christmas and murder'/><author><name>ryan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17916865495945928931</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Lt9_ldiTBo/S1m-vhSQ5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/viltX7a9cT0/S220/falk.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-4454653038952689079</id><published>2010-03-12T08:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T08:50:03.729-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Temple Drake pt 2</title><content type='html'>Piggybacking from my last post, Temple Drake resembles the downfall of the "high class" southern society. Her father is a judge which makes her a privileged young woman. yet, her flaws are obvious,especially with her behavior. Faulkner provides no background as to why Temple is the way she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's interesting to me is once again Faulkner does away with the character that readers are supposed to sympathize with(personally, I felt a little sorry for Temple). He did not make her crazy,sending her to an insane asylum nor did he kill her. Instead, she ended up in Paris with her father. I do not think this was the family's way of hiding their shameful daughter. I think that this is a way of Temple coping with what happened to her, or simply moving on with her life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-4454653038952689079?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/4454653038952689079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/temple-drake-pt-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4454653038952689079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4454653038952689079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/temple-drake-pt-2.html' title='Temple Drake pt 2'/><author><name>j_axo10</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12020772884342593126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-841496439219496934</id><published>2010-03-10T18:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T18:41:08.555-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Temple Drake</title><content type='html'>Temple Drake brought about a lot of what happened to her. While we might want to feel sorry for her by the end of it all, we do not simply because she put herself in that situation eventually. By being flighty, and noticeably so, she aroused the attention of Popeye and Van at the Goodwin house. Even though she was forewarned to try and keep out of sight by Ruby, she did not listen and instead returned to where the men drank and left and came back over and over. She enticed both Popeye and Van to react, and the eventual consequence was quite obvious. &lt;br /&gt;Temple Drake herself is enticing simply in her name. Her first name being Temple is a location, a place of worship and respect. At the same time, it is a place that people should not touch, should not taint, although they might want to even if it is wrong. Temple, the girl, can be considered as something that people want simply for the sake of telling the story after it is done. The same goes for her, in the sense that she was raised with money and in a high-class world. She was curious about the lower class, although it put her at great risk that came to fruition with Popeye. &lt;br /&gt;Personally, I was able to get through this story easier than the others, but that says little for the storyline itself. The plot mixed innocence and guiltiness in its characters, but at the same time showed several characters who were unwilling to make any steps necessary to fix things, or would do worse and take steps to push things in the opposite direction. Faulkner did well to show the many weaknesses of the Southern society when putting an almost foreign power, Benbow, who was idealistic, honest and just with the rest of the group. His sister tried to set up his downfall to continue the marriage and to keep her name from being tainted, for example. Besides that, however, this story feels a bit shallow. Characters did not seem very human, especially in their “conscience.” There were very few moments of regret for some actions, and it only appeared to get worse as the book went on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-841496439219496934?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/841496439219496934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/temple-drake_10.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/841496439219496934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/841496439219496934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/temple-drake_10.html' title='Temple Drake'/><author><name>Pilotace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16629258517207973978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3525650186673724850</id><published>2010-03-10T16:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T16:23:19.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sanctuary...Okay</title><content type='html'>What in the world was Sanctuary about? Other than the importance of place, the story had little meaning for me. I’ve become accustomed to Faulkner using multiple narrators. I was mad that he did not use that technique with Sanctuary because it would have made the story more layered as opposed to flat, which is what I found the story to be. The technique of using multiple narrators not only reinforces the theme of the importance of storytelling, it also sends the message of questioning character’s subjective motivation for doing the things they do or saying the things they say. If Faulkner would have used multiple narrators such as Temple, Popeye, or Ruby about their perception of each other or others or the rape/murder that would have enhanced the novel so much!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I lay Dying, Absalom, Absalom, The Sound and the Fury all have multiple narrators because Faulkner’s wants the reader to decide for him or herself, who is telling the truth? And by using different characters to tell one story, Faulkner’s ask the question what do we really know about anything? Starting with describing how life was pre-civil war, which is one of the themes in Sanctuary.  Another theme is violence. I was scared shitless while this book, which is not necessarily a bad reaction. Actually, I applaud Faulkner for arising fear in me. I agree with Ira that I, too, was to busy gasping to do any deep analysis of this text.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3525650186673724850?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3525650186673724850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/sanctuaryokay.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3525650186673724850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3525650186673724850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/sanctuaryokay.html' title='Sanctuary...Okay'/><author><name>Teresha Ussin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11516516409341345426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-6570437247153218364</id><published>2010-03-10T15:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T16:24:17.700-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tierney M. Donovan'/><title type='text'>Sanctuary</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Sanctuary &lt;/em&gt;was not my favorite Faulkner novel. After reading &lt;em&gt;As I Lay Dying-- &lt;/em&gt;which I loved-- this one was a big let down. We were told in class that Temple Drake was similar to Miss Quentin, and so I was expecting a more likable character (because I really liked Miss Quentin's character despite her flaws). Temple Drake was precocious and sneaky and, unfortuanately, that got her into a lot of trouble. I was kind of expecting for there to be a big turnaround for her, like she would get away from that horrible, trashy life and overcome all of that. But she really kind of didn't. It seemed like there was a constant feeling that there was something bad coming for her. Something bad because of her being sneaky or whatever. She just keeps going down a worse and worse path. Even when she seems like she could easily get out, she doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;The poor infant that was in the box was pretty strange.  That kind of came from left field.  Popeye was repulsive. What a horrible, scary character! The whole beginning part with Benbow really kind of confused me at first- like, why is he staring down this man? Why is he taking him away? Benbow, I guess, was the only character that was normal-ish.&lt;br /&gt;The title in itself is something that doesn't really happen. No one found sanctuary. No one was happy. No one was good. Or that's what I got from it. I did find myself having to go back and read parts repeatedly just in an attempt to grasp what had just happened. When I looked up stuff online for back up information, I saw that Temple had been raped by a corn cob. How could I have missed that?! But somehow I did. There was a lot of confusion for me with this novel, but I am learning that that is what goes with my readings of Faulkner: Confusion comes with the territory.&lt;br /&gt;The ending was kind of a bummer.  The end was pretty bleak.&lt;br /&gt;After hearing that Faulkner wrote this for money, I think that that was what  put me in a strange mind against it. And maybe why I didn't like it. I didn't like the trashiness of it, either and I didn't really care for the characters and I think I was just expecting something more. I think that reading &lt;em&gt;As I Lay Dying&lt;/em&gt; and really liking it had me prepared for even greater things, but it didn't happen.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry to say that the more Faulkner I read, and the more I learn about him the more I want to read John Steinbeck. Don't know if that makes sense.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-6570437247153218364?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/6570437247153218364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/sanctuary_10.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6570437247153218364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6570437247153218364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/sanctuary_10.html' title='Sanctuary'/><author><name>Tierney Donovan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05923801274619800137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-8685588464349133107</id><published>2010-03-10T15:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T15:37:57.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bloody Corn Cob</title><content type='html'>The bloody corn cob is one of the most ghastly literary images I have ever encountered; indeed, I will be unable to drive past a harvested cornfield again without vomiting in my lap. &amp;nbsp;Nonetheless, this symbol of abstract sexual aggression is an appropriate symbol for Faulkner's &lt;i&gt;Sanctuary&lt;/i&gt;, a novel of vice after vice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The novel's climactic action is the rape of protagonist Temple Drake (defiling the temple, eh?) with a corncob. &amp;nbsp;Popeye, the perpetrator, evades justice through the aforementioned rape and two murders, eventually meeting his ironic demise at the end of a noose, convicted of the one murder in the novel that he did not commit himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to find a single likable character in &lt;i&gt;Sanctuary&lt;/i&gt;. &amp;nbsp;Even Temple Drake seems capricious and cold throughout. &amp;nbsp;Her victimization, oddly enough, is more of a humanizing act in this context than a dehumanizing act; the juxtaposition of the corncob, a foreign object, against the very object of her womanhood, seems to punctuate this in a painful way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Violence reigns throughout - castration, voyeurism, rape, murder, etc. &amp;nbsp;Honestly, I was too busy gasping most of the time to do much deep analysis. &amp;nbsp;This book seems to be further confirmation of Faulkner's abiding suspicion with humanity and wishy-washy misogyny. &amp;nbsp;The fact that it was written just before &lt;i&gt;As I Lay Dying&lt;/i&gt;, arguably a more sentimental (or at least more familial) novel seems rather strange.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-8685588464349133107?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/8685588464349133107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/bloody-corn-cob.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/8685588464349133107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/8685588464349133107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/bloody-corn-cob.html' title='Bloody Corn Cob'/><author><name>Ira Wray</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11479216511733628508</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-8689575797310174234</id><published>2010-03-10T15:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T15:53:53.044-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Faulkner's Horror Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sanctuary&lt;/span&gt; was both horrifying and oddly engrossing to read. I think of all the books we've read so far, this one could translate the best into film (which I just read that it did, in 1933's "The Story of Temple Drake"). The images that came to mind as I was reading, especially when there was dialogue, was a sort of 1940s cross between a film noir and the movie "To Kill a Mockingbird." Though it presented itself the most vividly in my mind's eye, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sanctuary&lt;/span&gt; did feel a bit lazier, at least in terms of prose style, than &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Sound and the Fury&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As I Lay Dying&lt;/span&gt;. Just as I got tired of hearing about Margaret Power's "red scar" of a mouth and Januarius Jones's "yellow goat eyes" in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Soldiers' Pay&lt;/span&gt;, so I got tired of hearing about how thin Temple Drake is or how implacable Narcissa is. I like to judge a book by whether or not it feels like I'm reading, whether or not I have to trudge through syntactical mud or whether I glide effortlessly. This seeming inattention to the words he was choosing made me trudge through some serious mire, instead of just absorbing myself completely in the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That small criticism being said, I really enjoyed the novel. Well, maybe "enjoy" isn't the right word for it...the world Faulkner creates in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sanctuary&lt;/span&gt; is filled with vices and abysses: rape, alcoholism, murder, prostitution, poverty, hatred, revenge, cowardice. Even the infant son of the Goodwins seems unable to find anything to live for, as he lays inert and unresponsive in his mother's arms, rarely lifting his "lead-colored" eyelids. As we've seen grow more prevalent in the previous couple of novels, Faulkner shies away from creating any absolute heroes out of his characters: yes, Horace Benbow does seem to be pulling an Atticus Finch in his defense of Goodwin, but he has just left his wife and child and is hiding out with his sister (whom he had incestuous feelings towards in an earlier draft of the novel). Certainly not a Donald Mahon. The only truly good character we see is Tommy, the bare-foot, simple-minded protector of Temple who suffers the wrath of Popeye (question: is Popeye black?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found an &lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/1981/02/22/books/faulkner-was-wrong-about-sanctuary.html?&amp;amp;pagewanted=1"&gt;article in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The New York Times&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sanctuary&lt;/span&gt;, in which the writer shared something Faulkner had once said to him: ''It is my ambition to be, as an individual, abolished and voided from history, leaving it markless, no refuse save the printed books. ... It is my aim and every effort bent, that the sum and history of my life, which in the same sentence is my obit and epitaph too, shall be them both: He wrote the books and he died."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After reading this absolutely horrific and depressing, yet incredibly &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;well-written&lt;/span&gt;, novel, I'm left wondering, "What part of Faulkner is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sanctuary&lt;/span&gt; supposed to come from?" I have read a good deal of Faulkner, outside this class and for it, and I never realized how far into the darkest recesses of the human nature he was able to delve until opening this novel. I feel like he was able to exorcise some real demons with this one, perhaps even more so than &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Sound and the Fury &lt;/span&gt;or &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As I Lay Dying&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-8689575797310174234?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/8689575797310174234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/faulkners-horror-story.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/8689575797310174234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/8689575797310174234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/faulkners-horror-story.html' title='Faulkner&apos;s Horror Story'/><author><name>Amanda Williams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12751623429440309796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-2951046717143749287</id><published>2010-03-10T14:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T17:23:35.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Story of Temple Drake and thoughts on Faulkner.</title><content type='html'>I chose this title for my post because I have been rummaging through the internets for the 1933 film of the same name. Fortunately, there are some youtube clips, but I have not found the film in it's entirety. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a very underrated film, lauded by critics, and a rare find, because it falls on the pre-code film era. Few films were produced at the time. You could get away with most things in the industry during that small window that lasted until censorship codes were implemented in 1934. Although not as controversial as the novel, this was still pretty daring for it's time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Additionally, sound in film was a new, and a refreshing theme at the time, that broke through a silent film barrier that dominated the industry for several decades. In retrospect, the evolution of film is something we take for granted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am dumbfounded as to why this film was green lighted to begin with because even though it is not as graphic, sinful, and sexually driven like Sanctuary, the innuendo and themes are there. At the time, I presume, the mere suggestion of anything controversial and inappropriate, would be immediately chastised. Even though I did not live in the roaring twenties, or in the slightly more open thirties, I believe the controversy of Sanctuary could not be matched back in 1931. To convert it into film, in such a delicate period, was downright risky, and very ambitious. Despite the relentless and explicit nature of Sanctuary, it is also the most accessible Faulkner novel I have come across. Once again, Faulkner shows that he has a bag full of tricks, and stories to tell. With this third big novel, after the Sound and The Fury and As I Lay Dying, Faulkner is on a role, but we have not seen his full potential just yet. The man is a literary chameleon, exploring different styles with every novel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The somewhat gimmicky stream of consciousness style from the former two novels is seldom adopted in Sanctuary, and frankly, I like Sanctuary's Faulkner the most. Faulkner is way beyond his time, and I can only imagine how much of a curse it must have felt for him to deal with the people of his present, who are not as open to his novels as us kids from the 21st century. I guess that is the burden of being ahead of the game. One is forced to keep fighting, in hopes of receiving some recognition, which usually comes too late. Either at the end of your career, or years after death. In spite of this, Faulkner reaped the benefits of this curse, and became as timeless as the greatest authors. With patience, and determination, Faulkner became a fine wine, and remains one of everyone's favorite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some links to the film:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NcRX6KfePEQ Clip&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OQo-i_e86KY Part 1&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fnyV-u4gAFQ&amp;feature=related Part 2&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBlKU5m_HWo&amp;feature=related Part 3&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=csdFW_bN8VY&amp;feature=related Part 4&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1qLzuMd0zK4&amp;feature=related Part 5&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_CkFqECPRb8&amp;feature=related Part 6&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NpvPdY0nn0&amp;feature=related Part 7&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wLjHxr9Uz0U&amp;feature=related Final &lt;br /&gt;(Temple's testimony, pretty damn hysterical and hilarious.)&lt;br /&gt;If I could go back in time, I would slap the screenwriters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-2951046717143749287?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/2951046717143749287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/story-of-temple-drake-and-thoughts-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2951046717143749287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2951046717143749287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/story-of-temple-drake-and-thoughts-on.html' title='The Story of Temple Drake and thoughts on Faulkner.'/><author><name>ungabulunga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09339205262795618618</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-2955880129041503580</id><published>2010-03-10T14:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T14:34:07.646-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sanctuary</title><content type='html'>The world as portrayed in Sanctuary is an ugly one. One which, no doubt, requires places of refuge for all of the sufferers involved. This seems, then, to be the source of Faulkner’s title.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;At one point the novel’s greatest hero, Horace Benbow, imagines many of the novel’s main characters together in a cell:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He thought of her, Popeye, the woman, the child, Goodwin, all put into a single chamber, bare, lethal, immediate and profound…Removed, cauterized out of the old and tragic flank of the world.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Benbow puts himself in this cell too, “thinking of how that were the only solution.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This placing of victims of sufferance in a cell seems to tie in with Goodwin’s idea of being safer in his jail cell than he is a free man in that frightening world beyond, where Popeye lurks, waiting. Of course, Benbow puts Popeye is in this place of refuge too. The reader learns later of the traumatic childhood lived by the novel’s villain. He is a product of the ugly world, too.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;In a way, Tommy (“Tawmmy”) can be said to be a source of protection for Temple. When trapped in that big house, she seeks him out as a protector, a role he undertakes on his own.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;In light of the novel’s title, Temple’s name must hold significance as well. According to the esteemed dictionary.com, some of the definitions of “temple” include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“an edifice or place dedicated to the service or worship of a deity or deities.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“a building, usually large or pretentious, devoted to some public use…”&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;Temple certainly does seem to be an object of worship for many young men. She is certainly valued above such a woman as “Mrs.” Goodwin, who is seen as a common whore for her sexual liaisons. Of course, the readers learns that Mrs. Goodwin’s sexual conquests were honorable (though gullible, considering the disgustingness of the man she loved and whored for) and that she remained faithful to one man throughout it all, while Temple played her teasing games with several young lads.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;The last definition I included seems to somehow tie in to Temple’s role at that large house, with all of those men wanting her. While there, as a girl, she was, to Van and Popeye, an object for their own use.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;Popeye I find to be a gross, hideous man. But I will say that it seems that Temple Drake could possibly be, for him, a sanctuary of sorts. I suppose I can argue this in class.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-2955880129041503580?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/2955880129041503580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/sanctuary.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2955880129041503580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2955880129041503580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/sanctuary.html' title='Sanctuary'/><author><name>MorganMiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10469250277763703536</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-6278235498637801852</id><published>2010-03-10T14:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T14:24:49.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Name is William Faulkner, and I'm an Alcoholic</title><content type='html'>William Faulkner’s Sanctuary is, without a doubt, a heavy novel, filled with difficult and controversial topics.  Among the vices and crimes in the novel are rape, murder, bootlegging, prostitution, perjury, children out of wedlock, drunken driving, major alcohol consumption, promiscuity, and more.  Faulkner himself once claimed that Sanctuary was written simply for the sake of profit, which would explain the excessive amounts of controversy and shocking content.  One of the vices in the novel that stands out, though, partly because it seems to be quite a large part of all of Faulkner’s novels, is alcohol: liquor, moonshine, booze.&lt;br /&gt; Evidence suggests that William Faulkner may have been a bit of an alcoholic in his day.  Not only do his personal letters and his biographies indicate this, but the fact that alcohol is an important part of almost every single one of this his novels also suggests a more than healthy relationship with liquor.  In Soldier’s Pay, the characters get drunk in the first scene.  Benjy and his keeper in The Sound and the Fury get drunk off what they think is sarsaparilla, but is actually champagne from Caddy’s wedding.  And the alcoholic content of Sanctuary is no less.  In fact, this may be Faulkner’s most alcoholic novel yet.&lt;br /&gt; Alcohol is a big part of Sanctuary. To begin with, Lee Goodwin and Popeye are part of a bootlegging organization.  Their jobs are totally and completely centered on booze.  Tommy, the “halfwit” member of the Goodwin clan is also involved in this bootlegging scheme.  One can only assume, then, that the lives of these men, as well as their families, were dictated by alcohol.  The men had to be obsessed with it because it was their illegal job.  And of course they imbibed of the sweet stuff themselves.  It wouldn’t be a Faulkner novel if they didn’t.  &lt;br /&gt; Alcohol is also the catalyst for the entire storey.  Gowan Stevens drinks too much moonshine the night of the dance with Temple Drake and subsequently misses the train to Starkville, forcing him to drive the two of them to the baseball game in his car.  If Gowan hadn’t have drunk he wouldn’t have missed the train.  Gowan also makes the decision to stop at the Goodwin house because of booze as well.  He wants more liquor, and so decides to stop off at the Goodwin bootlegging house to replenish.  If Gowan hadn’t have wanted to more alcohol then he wouldn’t have been near the Goodwin house.  Also, because Gowan is already drunk while he is driving, he crashes into a tree near the Goodwin house.  Because of alcohol, now the young couple are stranded in a strange house with strange, shady people, and, ultimately, Temple gets raped because of this.  In the end, one could say that it was alcohol that led to Temple Drake’s rape.  &lt;br /&gt; Sanctuary is filled with many more evils than just liquor.  And to say that alcohol led to Temple Drake’s rape is an overly simplistic explanation and in no way a justification.  What I mean to point out is simply that alcohol is big part of Sanctuary, influencing the character development, action, and background of the story.  I think that this is very telling of Faulkner, if not simply the time in which the novel was written.  If nothing else, Sanctuary can be seen as a warning against the evils of liquor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-6278235498637801852?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/6278235498637801852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-name-is-william-faulkner-and-im.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6278235498637801852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6278235498637801852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-name-is-william-faulkner-and-im.html' title='My Name is William Faulkner, and I&apos;m an Alcoholic'/><author><name>Rebekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00635182202111734458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-9060459979817256823</id><published>2010-03-10T10:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T11:18:33.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Temple Drake</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Sanctuary&lt;/em&gt; is by far an easy read, in my opinion, compared to &lt;em&gt;The Sound and the Fury &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;As I Lay Dying. &lt;/em&gt;Yet, &lt;em&gt;Sanctuary &lt;/em&gt;is probably Faulkner's most controversial novel because of themes of rape,castration, and lynching. The sexual brutality is beyond words. It's very honest and out in the open. Faulkner has no issue with writing about such scandalous things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faulkner has a tendency to have issues with southern women who tend to be a bit more open minded when it comes to life and sex. He characterizes Temple Drake as a "fast girl," meaning she is the voluptous college girl who likes to have a good time, both in and outside the bedroom. At first, it is easy to be angry at Faulkner for characterizing her or being judgemental of her actions. As the story progresses, it is clear why Faulkner characterized her in such a way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Temple is a bit hard headed; no one can tell her what to do. Instead of going to class, she decides to leave campus with Gowan, who is clearly a heavy drinker. Temple realizes that she's in danger, so she attempts to hide in the barn, but is discovered by several of the drunkards.  Then out of nowhere, the shady Popeye barges in and rapes Temple with a corn cob, of all things,mainly because he is impotent. In my opinion, this is Faulkner's idea of "teaching Temple a lesson,"even though this tactic clearly did not work, as Temple looked for sexual pleasure the next day.  Even though the rape is by far the most disturbing thing I've ever read, it was almost as if it was brushed off by the characters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bloody corn cob can be viewed more than just a tool for raping Temple; it symbolizes legal impotence. Temple, like the other characters, did not seem to be bothered by the rape. Yes, it happened, but she did not seem to dwell on it. She's the daughter of a judge living a privleged ife among those who seem to be "less" than she. Even though the rape is probably the most significant point in the book, the issue of social class can be used here as well. Temple clearly had no clue what she was getting herself into when she decided to skip classes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-9060459979817256823?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/9060459979817256823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/temple-drake.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/9060459979817256823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/9060459979817256823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/temple-drake.html' title='Temple Drake'/><author><name>j_axo10</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12020772884342593126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3511597766119453065</id><published>2010-03-03T16:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T16:04:29.202-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Truth = Detach</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3511597766119453065?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3511597766119453065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/truth-detach.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3511597766119453065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3511597766119453065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/truth-detach.html' title='Truth = Detach'/><author><name>Teresha Ussin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11516516409341345426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-4054631888482779853</id><published>2010-03-03T15:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T17:03:58.182-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Die: A indifferent but concerned outlook on death.</title><content type='html'>Every human life, at some point, will be arrested by the idea of death. It could happen much more often, if it wasn't for our coping mechanisms and vital lies that prevent us from acknowledging the terror. A fear of dying is technically dying at a faster, much more brutal rate; a life is halted from living, because of how the idea of death sequesters souls. We are also aware of our frailty, ephemeral experiences, and finitude. This realization leads us to not do as much as planned with the little life we have. Somehow, we embrace the paradox of "I won't take risks, so I can make it safe to death". Pessimists, although realistic in their assessment of death, are the ones who are likely to say things along the lines of "You are born, and make your way to death", or, "You are born, and then you die, so you better do something in between". Positive or negative, the fact of the matter is that we can only live a little, so you best do something about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I Lay Dying is culpable for stimulating all these thoughts. In it, we are finally transported to Yoknapatawpha county, and the reader finds that it is a land of dead people. If my previous paragraph has any believers, the Bundrens, as well as any human being are the walking dead. Of course, we are not talking about zombies, and as much as we resemble them at times, I am merely suggesting that, ironically, we are all in the process of dying. To me, and perhaps Faulkner would agree, the quicker you come to terms with this bitter reality, the more liberated you will be as a being, because of the indifference that would be developed for death. However, As I Lay Dying presents a different setting with contrasting traumas to which most readers can't relate. The poor, misguided souls here are jaded by death and violence, and what I just proposed cannot be digested properly because the level of suffering, and stagnancy that is produced from said tragedies, is too much for anyone to handle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as suffering is a part of life, there is an average, universal dose that we are all familiar with. In the Bundren's case though, things are twisted to a maximum exponent, in typical Faulkner fashion. Anyone can get away with anything in Yoknawpatawpha county. Although influenced by the real world, this county is separated from the universe, it is a product of Faulkner's imagination. This is his personal habitat for twisted, social experiments that usually go awry. Death, as final as it may be, is what drives this novel. The novel cannot end prematurely even with the passing of Addie, a almost invisible protagonist, whose only sign of life is a death request. Addie is mostly talked about, but that doesn't stop her from taking over much of the novel as though she were a phantom. Much like Caddy in Sound and the Fury, Addie's influence allows every event to trickle down to several characters struggle and demise. With all but her memory (or lack of), and the promise, the Burden's are afflicted by her death, whether or not they care. Each subsequent contemplation and reaction to her death is unique, much like a gathering of individuals at a funeral who are all there for the same purpose, but exposing different emotions.  The human condition permits us to celebrate, mourn, or deny death. Whichever we see fit. The title for the novel could well be Addie's Death, but I am pretty sure As I Lay Dying is the only possible title that conveys Faulkner's feelings towards death.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-4054631888482779853?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/4054631888482779853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/to-die-indifferent-but-concerned.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4054631888482779853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4054631888482779853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/to-die-indifferent-but-concerned.html' title='To Die: A indifferent but concerned outlook on death.'/><author><name>ungabulunga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09339205262795618618</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-6023530663419162958</id><published>2010-03-03T15:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T15:38:59.662-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Most Humane Faulkner Novel Yet</title><content type='html'>It's hard to believe how &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;good&lt;/span&gt; Faulkner has gotten in his fifth novel, especially after seeing how he started off in &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Soldier's Pay&lt;/span&gt;. Though &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;As I Lay Dying &lt;/span&gt;may have some of the most bizarre characters to date, I've found the Bundren family to be the most complex and believable of the lot. None of these characters are perfect by any means: there are no heroes like Donald Mahon or Dilsey here. However, I didn't find myself really antagonized by any of these characters either, like I was with Cecily Saunders and Jason Compson. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cash may not be much of a talker, but he is fiercely loyal to his family. I found myself wondering, with his carpenter's tools and self-sacrificing nature, if he wasn't supposed to in some way resemble Jesus. We've talked about religion in Faulkner before, and there are definitely strong undercurrents at work here in the lives of the characters. Sometimes he takes the whole "silent sufferer" thing a bit too far, and it does more harm than the good he intends it to. In any case, as I was reading along, I wanted to hear more of Cash than I did of anyone else. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Darl, the narrator for the majority of the time, is more cerebral than any of the other Bundrens (the live ones, anyway) and a deemed a "queer one" by the neighbors. While his gift for intelligence provided some of the most beautiful and poetic passages of the novel, his seeming un-feeling for his family makes him hard to relate to. He has this incredible intuition, bordering on clairvoyance at times (he describes Addie's death in great detail, though he is miles away at the time), but he never seems to use it to really help anyone: he is too stuck inside his own head.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jewel may be the hardest character of all to relate to, however. At the beginning he seems like another Jason Compson, but as the novel progresses and the journey to Jefferson grows more arduous, he shows a spirit of loyalty and determination that ends up saving the family numerous times (saving Cash's tools, trading in his horse, rescuing the Gillespies' livestock). Though often abrasive and foolhardy, I think Jewel may be the most heroic of the Bundrens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dewey Dell and Vardaman are perhaps the most pathetic characters. They are simply children, thrust into tragic circumstances beyond their maturity level--the death of Addie for Vardaman and an unexpected pregnancy for Dewey Dell. They were the ones I felt the most compassion for, because each is left essentially on their own to deal with these unfortunate things, and both have to muddle their way through the best they can. Anse is similar to them in that he never really seems to have learned how to take care of himself. I didn't find him manipulative or callous, just naive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Addie may be the one to draw the most criticism from readers: she hates her children (except for the one that seems to like her the least, Jewel) and her husband, she has an affair. She's the one I felt the most sorry for, though. The Bundrens are leading a pretty miserable existence, and she is the only one who is painfully aware of it. Social norms and lack of exposure to the world have left her a very big fish in a small pond, so to speak, and she cannot adapt to her environment. That seems the most tragic situation of all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In short, I loved this novel because there were no obvious good versus evil dichotomies, no heroes, no villains. Just people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-6023530663419162958?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/6023530663419162958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/most-humane-faulkner-novel-yet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6023530663419162958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/6023530663419162958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/most-humane-faulkner-novel-yet.html' title='The Most Humane Faulkner Novel Yet'/><author><name>Amanda Williams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12751623429440309796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3265991808595135639</id><published>2010-03-03T15:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T15:23:22.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I ain't beholden to no one.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;     As I Lay Dying&lt;/span&gt; works the idea of pride into almost all the characters. Anse is constantly reminding the other characters that Addie wouldn't begrudge him another day because he is doing his best to get her to Jefferson.&lt;br /&gt;     Anse is by all accounts lazy and good for nothing. However, he has a sense of pride that he should accept no help on this journey to get his wife to rest. There seems to be little evidence as to why he is so worried about other characters possibly having some sort of hold over him. &lt;br /&gt;     I'm not saying that this makes him less real or believable. It makes him more believable because there are plenty of these people around, even if I don't know they're motivations.&lt;br /&gt;    The real humor of the novel is trying to figure out why some of these characters would agree to take part in this journey. Yes, in theory it's because they love their mother and want to honor her wishes.&lt;br /&gt;    Jewel may not biologically be Anse's son, but he is Anse's son. Jewel is overly concerned with not being in debt to Anse. He says that he would sooner kill his horse than let it eat Anse's food.&lt;br /&gt;    The other characters seem less concerned with being beholden but only seem to follow Anse. They never turn down offers until after Anse has turned it down first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3265991808595135639?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3265991808595135639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-aint-beholden-to-no-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3265991808595135639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3265991808595135639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-aint-beholden-to-no-one.html' title='I ain&apos;t beholden to no one.'/><author><name>Todd</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02972273713818345139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-1781137743336316562</id><published>2010-03-03T14:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T15:01:50.117-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Luck</title><content type='html'>William Faulkner certainly likes to make a large number of characters to throw into a story. It’s difficult to keep them all apart, especially when they are family. The title seems to suggest that the story revolves around the protagonist “As [she] lays dying.” However, considering that she dies not long after the beginning of the story, this is obviously not the case. At the same time, her importance inside of the coffin and the troubles she causes for her family after death seem to show that even though she does nothing purposefully, she is still around to communicate to everyone in someway. In a sense, Darl might have seen or understood the troubles that the dead woman was causing for he and his family, but his reaction did nothing more than cause even more troubles and eventually sent him to an institution for the insane. Whether this is the spirit of Addie causing difficulties for the journey or simple bad luck following the coffin, once the corpse is buried the story and the journey end, letting the time for healing begin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-1781137743336316562?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/1781137743336316562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/bad-luck.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1781137743336316562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1781137743336316562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/bad-luck.html' title='Bad Luck'/><author><name>Pilotace</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16629258517207973978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-2210734836065436728</id><published>2010-03-03T13:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T13:58:48.019-08:00</updated><title type='text'>From Faulkner to Faulkner</title><content type='html'>As we move into our third full Faulkner novel, I’ve begun to see a distinct difference from the inexperienced and naïve Soldier’s Pay and Mosquitoes to the more skillfully written As I Lay Dying.  Different though they may be, they are all markedly Faulkner.  Faulkner maintains his characteristic writing style through all of his writing.  And although many people might claim that Faulkner’s later works are better than his first novels, I’m not entirely sure this is the case. &lt;br /&gt; One of the characteristically Faulknerian attributes that has persisted throughout all of the novels we’ve read is the lack of coherent punctuation.  The longstanding joke that William Faulkner didn’t know how to use a comma has fairly factual roots.  Fame did not improve his mechanical skills, and so dedicated fans can count on the confusions from his early novels.  Faulkner’s penchant for repetition has also survived.  Though more subtle than the repetition in Soldier’s Pay, Faulkner’s use of the same words and phrases over and over are still a part of As I Lay Dying.  The difference in later Faulkner is that the repetition is more judicious and discerning.  When something is repeated it is important and it makes a certain impression.  &lt;br /&gt; Perhaps the most characteristically Faulknerian attribute that has survived from Soldier’s Pay through to As I Lay Dying is stream of consciousness writing.  William Faulkner is known for this writing style.  Stream of consciousness writing is a style in which a character’s thoughts and emotions are revealed in a continuous flow as if the reader were actually privy to the character’s inner most thoughts.  J.D. Salinger, Kurt Vonnegut, and Virginal Wolfe are all examples of some of the most famous stream of consciousness writing.  William Faulkner has all but perfected this technique.  First seen in some sections of Soldier’s Pay, most notably in the scene in which Mahon’s plan goes down, stream of consciousness writing has marked all of the novels we have read so far.  The Sound and Fury, one of Faulkner’s most famous novels, is pretty much entirely stream of consciousness.&lt;br /&gt; As I Lay Dying is not quite as stream of consciousness as The Sound and the Fury.  Some of the sections—character perspectives or points of view—seem to be more disjointed than others.  In particular, Vardaman and Dewey Dell’s narrations are very stream of consciousness.  The novel is written in sections, each section narrated by the different characters.  Some of the sections are more structured than others, but those narrated by Vardaman and Dewey Dell are especially piecemeal and characteristically stream of consciousness.&lt;br /&gt; Many people will say that Faulkner’s later works are better than his earlier ones.  I disagree.  Not only did I find Soldier’s Pay  and Mosquitoes easier to read, I also enjoyed them much more.  Faulkner’s early novels are more interesting than his later ones.  For some reason I feel like I have the type of story in The Sound and the Fury or As I Lay Dying before.  Faulkner’s earlier writing was more interesting to me than his later novels have been.  Maybe I’m just jaded, or maybe I’m just being difficult, but as of yet, I have not been impressed with “Faulkner” as the masses know him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-2210734836065436728?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/2210734836065436728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/from-faulkner-to-faulkner.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2210734836065436728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2210734836065436728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/from-faulkner-to-faulkner.html' title='From Faulkner to Faulkner'/><author><name>Rebekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00635182202111734458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-2033727428418141799</id><published>2010-03-03T11:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T11:12:58.501-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Faulkner Refutes the Persistence of Memory (or at least intimacy)</title><content type='html'>One theme that struck me as crucially important to the plot of &lt;i&gt;As I Lay Dying&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;was the relative impermanence of even the most imtimate relationships. &amp;nbsp;When Addie dies, for most of the characters in the novel, it seems like she crosses an indefinable threshold from personhood to thinghood. &amp;nbsp;The person they knew and loved just hours earlier is now an object, something to be stored in a coffin the way shoes are stored in a closet. &amp;nbsp;Darl and Vardaman take this to existential extremes; is Addie now just an elemental lump? &amp;nbsp;If mother has died, and does not exist, do you have no mother, and therefore also cease to exist?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anse, for his part, seems incredibly selfish; he is more preoccupied with acquiring new teeth than with mourning his wife and comforting his children. &amp;nbsp;The fact that he finds a new Mrs. Bundren (what his wife was called so shortly ago) while gathering shovels to bury Addie in Jefferson seems to put the final nail in the coffin, as it were, of this novel's often cynical, always introspective treatment of death.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-2033727428418141799?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/2033727428418141799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/faulkner-refutes-persistence-of-memory.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2033727428418141799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2033727428418141799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/faulkner-refutes-persistence-of-memory.html' title='Faulkner Refutes the Persistence of Memory (or at least intimacy)'/><author><name>Ira Wray</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11479216511733628508</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3308545181006855216</id><published>2010-03-03T06:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T07:07:43.881-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tierney M. Donovan'/><title type='text'>As I Lay Dying</title><content type='html'>So far, &lt;em&gt;As I Lay Dying&lt;/em&gt; is my favorite of the Faulkner books we have read. I read in a few places that it was supposed to be darkly comic, but I just did not see the humor in it except for at the end when Cash is describing the new Mrs. Bundren's eyes. The characters of Vardaman and Cash were my favorites and Addie was my least. The whole journey, to bury this woman who was miserable in life and (if she was speaking from the grave, which I am still not clear on) miserable in death. I don't really think it was necessary to bury her in Jefferson, but that Anse was set on it, I thought, was his saving grace. He was not the best father, for sure, and his motives in pushing forward on the journey to bury his wife were questionable, but at least he did fulfill her wish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vardaman and his "my mother is a fish" lines were and are still slightly confusing to me. With him, he seemed to be continually grasping for something that is certain, like "Darl is my brother. Jewel is my brother." When he said "My mother does not smell like that" I wanted to cry. He was not really allowed to acknowledge the state that his mother was in, even though he seemed to be very aware-- with the smell and his chasing away the vultures. I felt so bad for Vardaman.&lt;br /&gt;I liked Cash, too, because he seemed so focused on whatever task was at hand and he never complained, even when his leg turned black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it came to the dead body, I noticed that the only people to show revulsion were either women or black people. I could not recall an instance where he wrote that a white man had reacted to the smell of Addie through facial expressions or disgust.  Maybe I'm wrong about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The animals in this book were pretty prominent. Jewel's horse, the fish, the mules, the cat, the ever-present vultures-- there were animals present throughout, and they were pretty significant, although silent, characters.  The growing number of vultures was something that was really unsettling. I looked up vultures and I read that a group is called a "wake." Which was pretty fitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really  liked &lt;em&gt;As I Lay Dying&lt;/em&gt;. I read it twice and I think that it served me very well to do that. I think for me, that's how I got a better grasp of this book, even though I still don't know if I fully "got it." I tried, though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3308545181006855216?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3308545181006855216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/as-i-lay-dying.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3308545181006855216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3308545181006855216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/as-i-lay-dying.html' title='As I Lay Dying'/><author><name>Tierney Donovan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05923801274619800137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3806611663512961467</id><published>2010-03-02T16:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T16:21:47.236-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vardaman</title><content type='html'>This is the most incomprehensible novel I have encountered in this class so far. Though I concluded the novel with a superficial understanding of each of the characters and found some humor and weight in the novel’s closing sentence (uttered by the despicable Anse Bundren), I am still unclear as to the overall message. Why was it written? What does it all mean? Not that it is relevant, but I did not enjoy it. Not that my opinion matters in light of the genius who is Faulkner, but I think I would have “given more of a damn” about this family if I could have experienced their plight through the eyes of one narrator. Or, at least, less narrators.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;Because I am apparently not very intelligent, I could not identify a theme on which to base my response. Therefore, I decided to try focusing on one character. I chose Vardaman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vardaman, the youngest of the Bundrens, is the only member of the bunch who can truly be called a child. However, we are first introduced to Vardaman with the following description from Tull:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That boy comes up the hill. He is carrying a fish nigh long as he is. He slings it to the ground and grunts “Hah” and spits over his shoulder like a man.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not the only mention of Vardaman sharing common characteristics with a much older person than he. Shortly after, Tull says, “He cusses [the fish] like a grown man…”&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;br /&gt;Vardaman is much younger than his brothers, which could account for the fact that he adopts a man’s mannerisms at a very young age. However, Vardaman loses his crass confidence once his mother dies, and the fish that he once flung so carelessly to the ground, that he so easily chopped into a bloody mess, becomes entwined in his concept of his own mother’s death:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“My mother is a fish.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fish seems to represent, to Vardaman, that which existed in one state being altered to another state (“it is cut up into pieces of not-fish now”). It seems to be his young way of handling, yet not fully accepting, his mother’s death: “It was not my mother…It was not her because it was laying right yonder in the dirt. And now it’s all chopped up.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The idea of the fish comes back to Vardaman in the river-crossing scene:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You know she is a fish, but you let her get away.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of the great power that water holds in this novel, it seems that there is more to the fish than serving as a coping mechanism for Vardaman.  Water adds to the life struggle of the Bundrens, while containing a sense of otherworldly eternity and mystery. Perhaps, then, Vardaman is onto something bigger than he knows (or I currently know) when he says that his mother is a fish. Somehow, his mother, existing now outside of “straight” Time, makes sense as a fish, flowing through the great mystery of water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly, innocent Vardaman adds an element of horror to the novel. The blood on his person when he slaughters the fish is a rare description of gore in the novel. And while his face is often described as “round,” once his mother dies his face takes on horrific qualities: “…all color draining from his face into his mouth, as though he has by some means fleshed his own teeth in himself, sucking.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throughout the remainder of the novel, Vardaman seems to have forgotten his mother’s death. He is focused on a shiny, new toy train in a store window. He recites profound information about his family members to himself in a seemingly detached way, without seeming to fully comprehend any of it. His mother’s death, while upsetting his carefree innocence, has also, interestingly, given him a childlike approach to the world that he did not possess before – back when he was a spittin’ and cussin’ man-boy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3806611663512961467?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3806611663512961467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/vardaman.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3806611663512961467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3806611663512961467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/03/vardaman.html' title='Vardaman'/><author><name>MorganMiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10469250277763703536</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-533924159025102815</id><published>2010-02-24T15:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T17:43:18.635-08:00</updated><title type='text'>April 8, 1928</title><content type='html'>I found this last section to be the most appropriate. There is much needed closure with a saga that you think would never end. Faulkner finally takes over, once there is nothing left to see of the Compson's. I also thought it was the most accessible and interesting. Faulkner is no longer speaking for the characters. Rather, he assumes the role of a sort of omniscient narrator, implying that there is nothing left to be said of the Compson family, but subtly hinting at the end that there is order. However, for said order, certain Compson's can no longer be there because they would only sabotage any chances of prosperity. Don't get me wrong. This is not Faulkner's section, it is Dilsey's. Through Dilsey, though, Faulkner communicates with the reader objectively. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really enjoyed that each section had clear contrast with the other ones. Stylistically, Jason's, Dilsey's, and Quentin's sections are prose. Benjy's, on the other hand, is a mess, but it perfectly executes Benjy's thought processes and existence by writing in this handicapped narration, if you will. Faulkner proves his versatility as a writer, adapting to each of his lead characters with varying narratives. It makes me wonder how effective it would be if Faulkner published each section as a series of short stories that would make up one major saga. Published in episodes, it may resemble a really good soap opera, but I bet readers would be eager to read them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To start with Benjy, though, is very daunting, as mentioned in my last post on Sound and the Fury. Although Quentin's section is arguably the most complicated in substance, reading Benjy's goes against all your knowledge of the English language, and at first it was downright repulsive and frustrating.  Anyone with a trained tongue would find it difficult, while illiterates ( i think )would succeed because of the heavy reliance on phonetics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, to close with a third person narration by Faulkner is refreshing, because Sound and the Fury is very unrelenting, even though it is divided in sections. As gripping as it may be, I don't think this is a single setting novel, but I felt that I would never rest until the Compson family finally deteriorated. After moments of thinking they were finally done for, the Compson's still manage to show signs of life amidst all the misgivings. This may be a faulty reading on my part because I still blindly rooted for a dysfunctional family bound for disaster. Once Miss Quentin vanishes (to me, the final blow), and to some extent, Jason's hysterical, comical, but pathetic chase, this clan can no longer function. Everybody is inept and afflicted by Caddy's departure, which is the worst thing to do to those obsessed with her. Benjy can't take care of himself, Jason is stuck after he loses his job, and Quentin can't live knowing of Caddy's way. One way or the other, they are all tied to Caddy and yoknapatawpha, plus, everybody is so emotionally distraught that there is little to no hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-533924159025102815?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/533924159025102815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/april-8-1928.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/533924159025102815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/533924159025102815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/april-8-1928.html' title='April 8, 1928'/><author><name>ungabulunga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09339205262795618618</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-7144980560664055380</id><published>2010-02-24T15:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T16:01:53.315-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Absent love for the Compsons</title><content type='html'>William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury is both complex and simple. The text is hard to read; from the beginning, and without warning, there is constant switching from past to present confusing the reader. In addition this constant switching, at first glance it leads the reader to think that there is no real plot and meaning to the story. However, there is meaning and it comes in the embodiment of Candace Compson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faulkner is one of the South’s most influential writers because he redefines southern literature in two ways—first, in keeping with the southern tradition, he employs realism in his work. Second, he questions the southerner’s mind set for motivation by giving his audience, who may be southerners, a rare opportunity to reflect on who they are and how they came to be. Todd’s posting about, “The truly interesting question is how do we as readers look at the idea of audience in this novel” gave way to most of my reaction to the text. The Sound and the Fury answered many questions I had when I first read Absalom, Absalom!  The two novels reinforce each other. This maybe an answer to Todd’s question: the intended audience of this book, I believe, was geared initially toward southerner’s. I think Faulkner’s purpose for writing this book was to force southerner’s to take a look into their backyard. Candace Compson is the motivation for all the Compson’s brothers. Benjamin, Quentin, and Jason are obsessed with Caddy because she gives them what their mother neglected to—love. Caddy is a substitute mother figure for the boys, and maybe for herself, which is why she ends the way she does. Candace did not have a positive female role model to teach her the ways of the world, particularly when it came men. Now, one can argue that Dilsey may have been that positive role model for Candace, but let’s not forget that Dilsey is black. Therefore, under southern standards socially deemed inferior. So Candace may have not look at Dilsey pre se as a positive female role model to learn from, and Dilsey may have thought it not to be her place to tell Caddy what she should and should not do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, Candace mistake love for other things such as sex. It is the same for the Compson brothers; they mistake their love for Caddy as something more than what it should be. Love is one of the forces that hold families together. The Compson family does not have it therefore its falling apart. Faulkner’s uses his characters as representation for what the old south had and what it longs for. Starting with Quentin, he wants to continue on the family’s past greatness, but he has not nurtured from birth to do so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-7144980560664055380?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/7144980560664055380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/absent-love-for-compsons.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7144980560664055380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7144980560664055380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/absent-love-for-compsons.html' title='Absent love for the Compsons'/><author><name>Teresha Ussin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11516516409341345426</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-3606329565628839188</id><published>2010-02-24T14:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T15:01:52.026-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To the last Bascomb.</title><content type='html'>While it may be easy to hate Jason, I find him actually the most tragic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;     The truly interesting question is how do we as readers look at the idea of audience in this novel. Who is reading this? Are we simply privy to an inner monologue? While that may be a suitable read of the first two section, it doesn't work as well with the last two. Jason's section and the last section are less chaotic, less experimental and more importantly more prose-esque.&lt;br /&gt;     So who is Jason talking to? The fact that the section begins and ends with "Once a bitch..." utterance means that it's a story. A simple portrayal of a day in the life of Jason Compson is presented.&lt;br /&gt;    The strange thing about Jason is how many times he says that he doesn't care about things. He attempts to write off Caddy, Quentin, Benjy, his Mother, his father, Dilsey, the people putting on a show but the important thing is that these are the elements that make up the story he chooses to tell. Yes, he's hard to relate to because he spends most of time complaining about everything, but his complaints give you better insight into what he really cares about.&lt;br /&gt;    He says on numerous occasions that he doesn't care about Quentin's going-ons. But we see him chase her down, for no other reason than he does care. Yes he is sure that she is out with the boy "not standing up" but because Jason is following them around, Quentin has no time to actually be with the boy. He is expending energy to stop her.&lt;br /&gt;   He tells Quentin that he doesn't want her fooling around on his "mother's" ground. Jason does not want Quentin caught on the family land because the Mother won't be able to ignore it if it happens there. Mother Compson does not leave the house, so Jason makes sure that she doesn't have to suffer heartbreak (any more than the stuff she causes herself).&lt;br /&gt;   Yes all the time Jason is doing awful things to all the people in the book. He teases Luster with the tickets to the show. He keeps Caddy from see her daughter. He's generally a racist. He's the last male of a family that is going to dust around him. How should he act?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-3606329565628839188?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/3606329565628839188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/to-last-bascomb.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3606329565628839188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/3606329565628839188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/to-last-bascomb.html' title='To the last Bascomb.'/><author><name>Todd</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02972273713818345139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-8633184327732147651</id><published>2010-02-24T12:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T12:29:03.361-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tierney M. Donovan'/><title type='text'>Devilment</title><content type='html'>The other half of &lt;em&gt;The Sound and the Fury &lt;/em&gt;was much more enjoyable of a read, at least for me. The character of Miss Quentin was given life and she was my favorite of the book. And even though Jason was a horrible, repulsive character, it was his and Miss Quentin's interactions (or lack of interaction) that was the most interesting to me. Even him alone, with just his thoughts and later his actions (when from a general point of view) were the parts of the book that made me react the most. Like, his burning of the tickets was infuriating and when he refuses to give Miss Quentin her money... it was so frustrating that it elicited a response from me. The guy was awful but his character was so well done.&lt;br /&gt;Miss Quentin was the standout character to me. Not because she was an amazing person as Dilsey was, but because of what her life was and how she handled it and herself with this family that couldn't care less for her. The only one that seemed to care about her was Dilsey and Miss Quentin was not all that nice to her. That was really sad, I thought. She was a child who was born under unfortunate circumstances and lived in a place where those circumstances were not allowed to be forgotten or forgiven. She sought love in other places since she was not shown any at home.&lt;br /&gt;The mother was sickening. She was so blind and just gross when it came to Jason. It was hard to read at times. How she saw all of her other children, and how she was such a victim... how she allowed Jason to treat Miss Quentin and Dilsey and Dilsey's children. That she would say that they were eating "his" bread. Wow, it was annoying.&lt;br /&gt;I honestly don't think I really &lt;em&gt;got&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;The Sound and the Fury.&lt;/em&gt; Maybe another read would serve me well, but in the end I just felt like I was totally missing something, and I think that something may have been lost in the first and second chapters where I felt like I was lost in the woods.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-8633184327732147651?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/8633184327732147651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/devilment.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/8633184327732147651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/8633184327732147651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/devilment.html' title='Devilment'/><author><name>Tierney Donovan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05923801274619800137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-5041241363479462609</id><published>2010-02-23T13:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T13:22:22.407-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jason: I don't like you</title><content type='html'>The first half of the book introduced Jason as this creepy guy who was obsessed with the idea of his sister no longer being a virgin. Yes, I understand that he wanted to uphold the southern traditions and customs, but he was far too obsessive with his sister and her sexual escapades. The second half of the book, in my opinion, shows Jason at the peak of misery. By this point, he has stolen at least 50,000$ from his sister and mother. He pockets the money that Caddy sends to support Miss Quentin and uses it on a prostitute in Memphis. Sadly, his mother is a victim of his ill-fate. He,like the scathing scoundrel he is, has won his mother's trust. She is so blinded by her love for Jason that she cannot see the scheme he is running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason has grown into a bitter,sadistic,and petty man who runs his family through the use of cruelty and hatred. He is only focused on future gain and consumes himself in greed and selfish acts. He clearly has no ambition or aspirations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In general, The Sound and the Fury is a decent read, but Jason's character does not make it enjoyable at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-5041241363479462609?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/5041241363479462609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/jason-i-dont-like-you.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5041241363479462609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5041241363479462609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/jason-i-dont-like-you.html' title='Jason: I don&apos;t like you'/><author><name>j_axo10</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12020772884342593126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-7229359150651172254</id><published>2010-02-22T08:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T10:25:34.313-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jason Compson IV, Can Go Straight to Hell...</title><content type='html'>...at least as far as this reader is concerned. He is by far the most frustrating and confusing character I have encountered thus far in the novel. In his appendix to the novel, Faulkner described Jason as "the first sane Compson since before Culloden," but I simply cannot find any explanation for the way he behaves.  Quentin (the eldest son), with his impotence, obsession, and suicide, is more comprehensible to me. Raised in a constantly backward-looking Southern aristocratic family, he has been ingrained with a conflicting idea of "family honor" since birth, pulled in one direction by his overbearing and hysterical mother and in the other by his cynical, disillusioned father. His position as the first-born son makes this burden all the heavier on his shoulders. His mental breakdown is a clear consequence of the destruction of his worldview.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Similarly, one can understand Caddy's downfall. Though we never actually enter into her viewpoint, a clear composite of her character emerges from her brothers' perspectives. She is similar to Quentin in her internal conflict between the grip of a dying South and the beckoning of a new modern world. She, however, is able to succeed (at least more than Quentin) in adapting to modernity, even though it costs her her family. While she does not ever seem entirely happy with the path she has taken, she has at least gained autonomy from antiquated mores and forged her own identity. Her sexual promiscuity is a reasonable attempt to liberate herself from the extreme repression of her family, particularly her mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Benjy is, of course, the most understandable character, despite his mental handicap. He has been given no choice about the way he is, and thus draws the most empathy from the reader. His relationship with Caddy seems to be the only meaningful and real relationship that occurs within the entire Compson family. The only character that rivals Benjy in understanding and compassion is Dilsey. However, I would argue he surpasses Dilsey in exactly how he perceives and understands those around him: he is directed by no notions of what he thinks or has been told is "right" or "wrong," but rather responds to the hurt and pain of those he loves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But how does Jason fit into all of this? He clearly hates every one around him, and makes no bones about indicating it. In his own thoughts he expresses some kind of pity and affection for his mother, but he seems to create this feelings in order to justify his malicious and devious behavior. Quentin and Mr. Compson were both disillusioned by a modern world in which their values seem to have no place, but Jason doesn't seem to have ever had any values whatsoever. He is guided solely by his warped sense of pride and ambition. I can't find any correlation between his behavior and the downfall of Caddy, which seems to bring so much pain and destruction to the other Compsons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only explanation I can come up with so far is perhaps he fits into a large scheme of Faulkner's to illustrate the deterioration of the old South. Quentin, the oldest, has a mental breakdown and commits suicide. Caddy transgresses moral boundaries, engaging in sexual promiscuity, but these could also be called a breakdown of social relationships: she feels regret in having caused pain for Benjy and her father, but cannot not become an independent woman, contrary to old Southern values. Benjy would obviously be a complete breakdown of mental, social, and physical norms, but I would hate to describe Benjy as a symbol of deterioration, seeing as he is one of the few characters in the novel with any sense of compassion. All of this would leave Jason as the picture of social deterioration, being completely unable to function cooperatively within society. He has no real relationships with anyone and cannot seem to actually see people as they are. But then, can anyone (except Benjy and Dilsey) in the novel really see anyone else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'm totally over 500 words now, and on the verge of rambling, so I'll leave the rest to be sorted out in class.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-7229359150651172254?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/7229359150651172254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/jason-compson-iv-can-go-straight-to.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7229359150651172254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7229359150651172254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/jason-compson-iv-can-go-straight-to.html' title='Jason Compson IV, Can Go Straight to Hell...'/><author><name>Amanda Williams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12751623429440309796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-5281715171897391510</id><published>2010-02-13T17:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T18:14:32.335-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tierney M. Donovan'/><title type='text'>Chapters 1 &amp; 2 - Sound and the Fury</title><content type='html'>The first chapter of &lt;em&gt;The Sound and the Fury&lt;/em&gt; was really, really difficult for me to get through. I felt like throwing the book out the window and giving up on Faulkner forever. But, I felt compelled to seek some guidance from a friend of mine and what he shared comforted me in that I discovered that it was not just me being an idiot and not comprehending what was happening, but it was just, in general, a really difficult read. However, this did not ease the burden of the read by any means, I still had to fight my way through it, and even when I was done with it, my sense of accomplishment in finishing that one chapter was not able to get rid of the thought blaring in my mind: &lt;em&gt;what just happened?&lt;/em&gt; So, being a dedicated reader, I closed the book, and started all over again. The second time around helped a bit more but the fashion in which this chapter was written was completely baffling to me, even knowing that the narrator was mentally retarded. When thinking of &lt;em&gt;Mosquitoes &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;Soldiers' Pay&lt;/em&gt;, this novel is so much more heavy and hard to grasp. Mainly in the first paragraph, while reading it through for the second time I kept wondering why Faulkner would want to write in such a way that seems intentionally confusing. I brushed that off, though, by thinking it was just me. The repetition of the phrase : &lt;em&gt;Caddie smelled like trees&lt;/em&gt; almost killed me.&lt;br /&gt;The second chapter, I was told by the person mentioned above, was to be much easier to comprehend. I did not find this to be the case. Again, the memories and the ambiguity of what is going on was really a bit much for me at times. I felt like I needed a companion to the decipher every line I was not understanding, which seemed like all of them. I know there is an unhealthy obsession with Caddie amongst her brothers, and the assertion that one committed incest as a way out of a bad situation (meaning Caddie's pregnancy) was pretty striking. The character goes to Harvard and such a thing as that strikes me as something that would be said by someone who just did not know any better. This really brings home the extent of the obsession with Caddie, and the frustration he has with her life and, in particular, her sex life. I do not really understand why there is such a fixation on her sexuality, since they are brothers, and on her in general but it's saddening how it plays out. That is probably complete ignorance of something on my part. The focus on time was very striking when it came to Quentin, even though his suicide did not come until later.&lt;br /&gt;Speaking strictly of the first two chapters, this is one of, if not &lt;em&gt;the&lt;/em&gt;, most difficult book I have ever read. The last chapter was the only one that I could say that I actually &lt;em&gt;liked.  &lt;/em&gt;And I am hesitant to say that because I feel like I am missing something and I don't want to sound foolish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-5281715171897391510?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/5281715171897391510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/chapters-1-2-sound-and-fury.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5281715171897391510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5281715171897391510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/chapters-1-2-sound-and-fury.html' title='Chapters 1 &amp; 2 - Sound and the Fury'/><author><name>Tierney Donovan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05923801274619800137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-7785534152900644734</id><published>2010-02-10T15:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T15:47:43.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Caddy and the Compson Boys</title><content type='html'>I think Faulkner really nailed it this time around. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Sound and the Fury&lt;/span&gt; is replete with symbols and imagery, but without the cardboard obviousness of his previous novels. Here there is subtlety and ambiguity, room for nuance and myriad interpretations. In fact, things get so subtle at times, I had to check Sparknotes to make sure I had all the character relationships correct and to put events in some sort of timeline. While I was there, I found an interesting comparison of Benjy to Christ: Benjy is 33, the supposed age Christ was when he was crucified; three of the four narratives take place on Easter weekend of 1928; Benjy is an outcast among his own people, just like Christ; etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether that is valid or not, it made me think more deeply about the character of Caddy, specifically regarding her relationships with her brothers. I found his fixation on her to be inappropriate if he is actually supposed to be a Christ-like figure. I know his obsession with her isn't of a sexual nature, like Quentin's, but the only person Benjy seems to have any regard for at all is her. I would even go so far as to say he could care less if anyone else died or got hurt. Doesn't seem very Christ-like to me (of course, that could have been Faulkner's point).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What seemed like a more valid parallel to draw was one between Mary, the virgin mother of Jesus, and Caddy. Mrs. Compson is a hysterical hypochondriac, totally incapable of caring for her children. She leaves a void of the mother figure in Jason, Quentin, and Benjy's lives, a void that is left to either Dilsey or Caddy to fill. While Dilsey is certainly a hero of the novel, I don't think the children form any sort of motherly associations with her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caddy certainly does step in to act as a mother figure, however. She is the only one that understands Benjy and has any idea of how to really care for him. If we wanted to get all Freudian, I think we could say Quentin transferred his Oedipus complex from Mrs. Compson to Caddy, affirming her place as the real mother of the Compson boys and also making his incestual longing a little clearer. Jason certainly seems to hate Caddy, but nonetheless he is fixated on her, intent to get her into trouble. Because she never actually gave birth to any of them, she is, in every sense, the virgin mother of the Compson family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her sexual promiscuity, however, makes this symbolism a little more complicated and a lot more interesting. The virgin motherhood of Mary, both before and after the birth of Jesus, is a fundamental tenet of Christianity. If it were ever disproved, it would most likely put into doubt the divinity of Christ himself. Caddy's sexual activity and out-of-wedlock pregnancy cast a stain on her purity as a mother figure. Perhaps this is a comment on the irrelevance of Christianity in modern times: if Christ were to be incarnated in the exact same way today as he was the last go round, it would be a total failure. Caddy cannot hold on to her purity, pressured by the fast pace of life in the modern world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Furthermore, this contributes to Faulkner's illustration of the downfall of the Southern aristocracy. With such Christian mores as honor, chastity, and integrity as the anchor of their lives, how could they possibly survive if Caddy, the "Virgin Mary" of the South, cannot even stay pure? This realization devastates the Compson family in several ways, as seen in the novel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-7785534152900644734?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/7785534152900644734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/caddy-and-compson-boys.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7785534152900644734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/7785534152900644734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/caddy-and-compson-boys.html' title='Caddy and the Compson Boys'/><author><name>Amanda Williams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12751623429440309796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-5752176013768520346</id><published>2010-02-10T15:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T15:18:11.367-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who is the fool?</title><content type='html'>One of the most important elements of this novel is certainly the style in which each section is written. The narrators Benjy and Quentin are represented through their thoughts—which are choppy, full of flashbacks, and often italicized at significant moments. Although they share these common elements, the distinction between the two is blatantly evident. But why?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quentin uses elaborate words to convey his choppy thoughts, and hints at large, complicated world situations. He views situations at a complex and compulsive level. When he reflects, he is reflecting inward, placing all of the importance of a situation upon himself. He blames himself for his sister's impurity, and that he couldn't help free her from the situation (no matter what drastic measures—ie. incest!) Benjy, however, thinks very simply, and reacts outwardly. His thoughts are placed on his surroundings. He touches, smells, and feels. He notices what people do and say, and records it in his mind. Unlike Quentin, when Benjy is upset with Caddie, he openly cries (as he does about many things, granted) to express his feelings. It's immediate and child-like the way that he responds to emotional turmoil, but he does not self-reflect or self-blame. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But this dichotomy is represented, as previously mentioned, through similar styles of narration. With this, Faulkner is trying to point out that neither one of these approaches to life is really any different than the other. Although Benjy is mentally ill, he experiences things unselfishly and really takes in the wonders of the world without the constraint of time and obsession. Quentin is shown to be somewhat cursed with intelligence. Rather than enjoying simple smells, images, and moments in his life, he's forced to analyze and blame himself and others for events that he desires control over. Life is lost in moments of a ticking watch—which he slams against his drawer and breaks, symbolizing his resentment toward his unrelenting mind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Faulkner could be trying to point out that the supposed "fool" (Benjy) is not a fool at all because he actually enjoys moments of life, and the real fool is the person who is affected too much by his own mind. He could also be aiming to show that the modern person is forced to live within one of these realms—think and drive yourself to commit suicide (or something like suicide) or don't think and be judged as a fool. It also could be neither one of these, just a narration of two people dealing with the same situation in different ways. With this amount of juxtaposition, though, it's difficult to believe the latter option. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-5752176013768520346?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/5752176013768520346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/who-is-fool.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5752176013768520346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/5752176013768520346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/who-is-fool.html' title='Who is the fool?'/><author><name>ryan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17916865495945928931</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_5Lt9_ldiTBo/S1m-vhSQ5DI/AAAAAAAAAAM/viltX7a9cT0/S220/falk.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-2017314277006555068</id><published>2010-02-10T14:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T14:50:09.262-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Understanding the Misunderstood</title><content type='html'>The Sound and the Fury is one of William Faulkner’s most well-known novels.  It’s also, as it happens, one of his more difficult novels.  Told from four distinct perspectives spanning decades—including flashbacks and memories—it is basically the story of the trials of the Compson family.  The novel centers on the three Compson boys’—Quentin, Jason, and Benjy—obsession and dependence on their sister Caddy, and it also shows the progressive decline of the Compson family.  The first section of the novel is told from the point of view of Benjy, the youngest Compson son.  Benjy is mentally handicapped.  He cannot speak or take care of himself, and he labeled and idiot by his family and society.  I think this label is inaccurate.  I believe, based on what little I know about the subject, that Benjy is autistic, not an idiot.&lt;br /&gt; Autism is a neurological disorder that manifests itself in social and communicational deficiencies.  Autism is characterized by impairments in social interaction, impairments in communication, restricted interests, and repetitive behavior.  Benjy Compson appears to meet all of these criteria.  He does not speak; he only moans and cries.  His family believes that he is dumb and def, but this isn’t the case, because Benjy can hear and remember things very well.  He simply cannot vocalize or communicate his thoughts.  He clearly, as is evidenced by his narration, understands more about what is going on than his family believes he does.  Benjy points at things, such as the gate, his pillow, and the fire, to express himself.  This gesturing and pointing is also characteristic of low functioning autistics.  The fact that Mr. and Mrs. Compson did not notice Bejny’s handicap until he was five also makes me believe that he is autistic because it is hard to diagnose.&lt;br /&gt; Another characteristic of autism is impaired social skills.  Autistic people do not develop too far socially, as we can see is the case with Benjy.  He does not understand how to interact with other people.  He wants T.P.’s lighting bugs and cries until he gets them, and he steals baby girl Quentin’s toy when they are playing together.  He also scares the school girls running by the gate because he does not understand that they are not Caddy.  Socially and mentally, Benjy is a child, even through adulthood.  He also shows signs of restricted interests and repetitive behavior, signs of autism.  Benjy is preoccupied with certain things—Caddy, his slipper, his jimson weed, his cushion, fire—and he only seems to be interested in those things.  Benjy does not pay attention to those who are talking to him if he is preoccupied with one of these things.  Benjy is also repetitive, especially in his thoughts.  He keeps repeating that Caddy smells like trees, and at the end of the novel, when T.P. drives the carriage in an unfamiliar route, Benjy moans and cries until he recognizes his surroundings again.  I think that the character of Benjy displays very clear signs of autism, but I am not an expert in this, so I would like to research it fully.&lt;br /&gt; Something I am curious about is Faulkner’s intentions when writing this character.  I do not believe that autism was a diagnosable disorder then, and so I wonder if Faulkner knew what he was doing in constructing this character.  Was Benjy based off of someone Faulkner knew?  Did Faulkner do research in order to make Benjy more believable? Was Benjy a believable character when the book was first published?  This character raises so many unanswered questions for me that I can’t help but want to know more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-2017314277006555068?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/2017314277006555068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/understanding-misunderstood.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2017314277006555068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2017314277006555068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/understanding-misunderstood.html' title='Understanding the Misunderstood'/><author><name>Rebekah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00635182202111734458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-1832713973866021231</id><published>2010-02-10T14:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T15:29:17.875-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sound and the Fury revisited</title><content type='html'>It's been said that great novels must be revisited throughout life. Just because you are done with a book, it does not mean it is done with you. Certain novels are universal, available for entertainment, counsel, and introspection, at any time of your life. Although it is hypocritical to propose this argument at such a tender age, several masterpieces can be read at different points of one's life. Undoubtedly, it will not be a dull, lackluster, page-skipping read. Rather, coming across a beloved novel again is extremely gratifying, regardless of the motives. It is not a masochistic experience. Quite the contrary, you read a exalted form of the old novel, that is actually just adapting to your current state and age. It feels like discovering a whole new layer of treasure after years without opening a deceiving treasure chest. But a better example would be comparing a novel to a "Matryoshka" doll. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury falls under this category, along with Marquez 100 years of Solitude and Kafka's Metamorphosis to name a few. Even though each of these titles explores a different theme, what makes them great is the ability to attract readers of all ages. At age 16, The Sound and the Fury is a novel that is rather difficult to consume, mostly due to the reader's immaturity and futility in tackling such a structurally unique and complex novel. I failed to see how it was classified as good writing, as I struggled to get through the first, daunting, and confusing pages. It was not until I found out about Benjy's disorder that I understood the technique. If I could go back in time, I would slap my 16 year old self in the face because I thought very little of Southerners after the first section. I was dealing with inbred folk, and savages that did not meet my pretentious sophistication at 16. Stubborn, I refused to go the extra mile in understanding what did not meet my privileged reality. Fury exposes the delicate, raw, and soul-shattering themes of incest, retardation, violence, and racism, and it is not for the faint of heart, much less a 16 year old. Still, I considered it to be accessible but I didn't know what I was talking about, nor could I grasp most of these themes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took three more years of reading countless novels, suffering, screwing up, and learning the hard way to grasp The Sound and the Fury. Needless to say, I was in for a treat on my second visit at 19, a completely new read, highlighted by flashbacks of my first attempt to read the novel, and many moments that felt new because I finally understood some of its symbolism. However, I still have a long way to go. After all, I am a Faulkner amateur, and Fury will bring new moments of EUREKA! at 40, 60, or maybe as I lay dying, preferably not in a terrifying hospital room, and instead, reading some Faulkner, and other authors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Sound and the Fury has to be one of the most genuine, powerful, and brilliant novels I have ever read. Along with As I Lay Dying, Fury propelled Faulkner to the top. What I find particularly astounding, is the completely different writer we come across with in Fury. Just three years ago, Faulkner published his first novel, Soldier's Pay, a valiant first effort, but poor nonetheless. The Sound and the Fury consistently displays the brilliance that is lacking, but brewing in Soldier's Pay. It is a fine example of the maturity and evolution of the writer. Faulkner was doubted by many in the beginning, and defied all expectations. Fury is a refreshing and interesting introduction to Yoknapatawpha County, which would become a famous trademark. Who knew? Although comical, Faulkner actually made something of his life, and biographically, he led a life of blessed perseverance. Skeptical observers must have treated Faulkner like neglected grapes that transformed into a fine wine with time. This makes sense of my earlier claim of reading Fury, three years apart. As I write this, I realize I would have probably written a cookie-cutter, basic, summary of the Sound and the Fury at age 16. It would resemble Soldier's Pay, except it would be much, much worse. Now, even though I am not delving into character analysis and symbolism too much, I am reminiscing on my profound experience with the novel, as I am sure you will all do in the near or distant future, if Fury meant anything to you anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-1832713973866021231?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/1832713973866021231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/sound-and-fury-revisited.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1832713973866021231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/1832713973866021231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/sound-and-fury-revisited.html' title='Sound and the Fury revisited'/><author><name>ungabulunga</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09339205262795618618</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-350417743903820124</id><published>2010-02-10T13:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T14:26:58.075-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Shadows.</title><content type='html'>In &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Sound and The Fury&lt;/span&gt;, Faulkner makes a great use of symbolism. His use of the theme of incest makes much more clear his intention with the use of shadows in Quentin's section, especially.&lt;br /&gt;   Quentin is always aware of his shadow. He stands on the bridge and watches his shadow in the water. The shadow is drowning. Quentin plans on committing suicide but jumping into the river.&lt;br /&gt;   His shadow is the sin that follows him around. His sins, however, are imagined. Quentin has committed no sins. His sins are merely a shadow of his thoughts. He wants to have committed the sins because he believes it is the only way he could have saved Caddy. He wishes that he was impure because he loses Caddy because she has acted differently than what she is supposed to have done.&lt;br /&gt;   Quentin's shadow is also the South. His ideas of chivalry are especially prevalent. His actions towards the Italian girl are especially interesting. He constantly refers to her as "sister" and he attempts to make sure she gets back to her home safely. He attempts to just abandon her, but once he sees her again, he accepts that she is with him.&lt;br /&gt;   There are also the shadows of the writings that are being referenced by Faulkner. These references build a foundation for recognition. There are numerous biblical references in this section. Particularly, to Genesis and Revelation which represents both the beginner and the end. We are getting the beginning in this section because it is years before the other sections and one of the haunting parts of the Compson family. It is the end because it is last day of Quentin's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;!--Session data--&gt;&lt;input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"&gt;&lt;div id="refHTML"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-350417743903820124?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/350417743903820124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/shadows.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/350417743903820124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/350417743903820124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/shadows.html' title='The Shadows.'/><author><name>Todd</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02972273713818345139</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-192940028259407822</id><published>2010-02-10T10:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T11:01:41.014-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sound and the Fury..or crazy??</title><content type='html'>First and foremost, it is important to point out that Benjy as the narrator for the first section is quite difficult for the reader to follow what is going on in the story. His narration is hard to follow due to it randomness and choppy style. His stream of consciousness is made up of images,sounds,and memories that he cannot interpret or express due to his disability. He has absolutely no concept of time,living in present tense. Ironically, he is able to illustrate the demise of the Compson family as a whole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quentin, Benjy's brother, is a far more complex character with an abstract narration. It seems as if he is holding on to the old traditional Southern code of honor and cannot cope with the changing times.He cannot cope with Caddy's promiscuity. The begging question: WHO CARES?! Why is Quentin so obsessed with the fact that his sister is a sexual person? Could it be that he is jealous that she's no longer a virgin, while he's still apart of the club?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Unlike Benjy, Quentin is aware that his flashbacks are just memories which can be interpreted. He is obsessed and trapped in time. Also, in his thoughts, he regrettably feels as if he should have done something or said something to change a certain situation. For example, he recalls a young girl during his childhood, and calls her dirty. Now, because he called that little girl dirty, he sees his own sister as "dirty." It can be said that Quentin himself has mental issues,maybe the entire Compson family. There is no stability in the family,at all. If &lt;em&gt;anyone&lt;/em&gt; is normal, it is Caddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Sound and the Fury &lt;/em&gt;takes a true active mind to understand what's really going on. You cannot possibly sit and read page after page without having to reread what you just read. It's difficult to follow,which is a turn off. Sorry,Faulkner!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-192940028259407822?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/192940028259407822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/sound-and-furyor-crazy.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/192940028259407822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/192940028259407822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/sound-and-furyor-crazy.html' title='The Sound and the Fury..or crazy??'/><author><name>j_axo10</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12020772884342593126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-4997462553233738369</id><published>2010-02-09T21:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T21:55:57.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An (extremely long - sorry!) Ode to Benjy</title><content type='html'>Benjy is a faun if Faulkner ever wrote of one, and certainly among the wisest of his fools. Like the faun, Benjy is extremely in tune with nature, he lacks all self-consciousness. He also possesses intuition and, therefore, an important kind of wisdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Benjy’s intuition can be seen in a conversation between Dilsey and Roskus: “‘He know a lot more than folks thinks.’ Roskus said. ‘He knowed they time was coming, like that pointer done. He could tell you when hism coming, if he could talk. Or yours. Or mine.’”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In part two, Quentin reflects on Dilsey saying of Benjy: “He smelt hit.” Smell, as a means of acquiring knowledge, is certainly more animalistic than human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Benjy lacks self-consciousness, another trait of the faun. Often the reader learns of his actions through reactions from other characters. We often learn he is moaning, for instance, when he is told to “hush.”  He is also very in tune with nature, finding comfort in such things as flowers, lightning bugs, and other natural objects. Caddy, whom he loves, smells like grass. Not only that, but the reader gets the impression that the house is a dark place for Benjy, and the outside somehow light (“…we went out the door, out of the dark”).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Benjy’s close relationship to the black family working for the Compsons is also an indication of his faunlike nature. After all, according to Cleanth Brooks, when writing about “Negroes,” Faulkner tended to take the direction of “black mystique” (Brooks, 97). Black people in Faulkner novels certainly can be comically portrayed, but they also possess a “spiritual maturity,” often absent in white characters. There is also a strong relationship between black characters and the land. Benjy seems to have a much closer relationship to Dilsey and T.P., for instance, than to his own mother and father. This further supports the idea of him as a faun. Caddy and Quentin also have strong relationships with black characters and, incidentally, also have faunlike qualities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Benjy and Quentin, for whatever reason, are both drawn to fire. Benjy describes fire as “bright, smooth shapes.” Quentin sees the “clean flame” as something he and Caddy can seek refuge behind. He dreams of taking Caddy and Benjy to hell and the “clean flame.” I am very curious as to why these characters find fire so appealing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One stark difference between Benjy and Quentin are their respective perceptions of time. For Benjy, Faulkner’s quote about the past never being past holds very true. He is unaware of time: its passage, its order, its existence. Quentin, on the other hand, is obsessed with time – he says, when he cannot see his watch, “And so as soon as I knew I couldn’t see it, I began to wonder what time it was.” The first paragraph of Quentin’s part is an extremely important quote about the nature of time in this novel:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“…I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire…I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you might forget it now and then for a moment and not spend all your breath trying to conquer it. Because no battle is ever won he said. They are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools.”&lt;br /&gt;This quote ties in very strongly to the Macbeth quote, from which Faulkner took the novel’s title. With Quentin there is certainly a strong awareness of Time and the futility of a life “signifying nothing.”The theme is continued throughout part two, up until his suicide.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;Although Benjy is the idiot character, it is the intelligent Quentin, with his existential turmoil (fed to him by his father) and old-fashioned ideals (protection of the female), who ultimately kills himself. Is Benjy simply in a happy ignorance? Or is he really, like Roskus says, able to know when his “time” will come? The latter idea is interesting, considering Benjy is seemingly unaware of time. He does hear “the clock between [his] voice,” but there is no indication that he has any understanding of the &lt;em&gt;purpose&lt;/em&gt; of the clock. Maybe it is his timelessness which makes him so wise. One almost gets the impression that Benjy will never die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing I want to point out is the shift in the novel. As in Soldiers’ Pay, there seems to be a time of idealism and a time of corruption. In Benjy’s youth, there is a big field in which he can romp, Caddy is present, T.P. is a friendlier helper, and his father is benevolent, if deeply troubled. In his older age, the field is gone, Caddy is gone and replaced by the bratty female Quentin, Luster is a cranky, (understandably) unwilling caretaker, and spiteful Jason is head of the house. Also, like the character of Mahon, Benjy is a character who cannot function in normal society. True, he is taken in by the black characters, who belong to a sort of wise, earthy subculture. Personally, I think he is too good for this world. Maybe Faulkner does find an unchronological, unselfconscious, follow-your-nose lifestyle ideal. But he certainly does not find it practical.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-4997462553233738369?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/4997462553233738369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/extremely-long-sorry-ode-to-benjy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4997462553233738369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4997462553233738369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/extremely-long-sorry-ode-to-benjy.html' title='An (extremely long - sorry!) Ode to Benjy'/><author><name>MorganMiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10469250277763703536</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-8374602078963276208</id><published>2010-02-03T15:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T15:43:48.654-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mosquitoes- Insane Reality</title><content type='html'>William Faulkner's second novel &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mosquitoes &lt;/span&gt;is a pretty well written novel that completely captured the insane demeanor of the socially elite. The characters went about the streets of the New Orleans French Quarter with a sense of pomp and arrogance, but were hiding a treacherous insecurity that others were unaware of. Mr Talliaferro and Mrs. Maurier best exemplify the high stature of elite figures who possessed great insecurity . Both were infatuated with the sense of youth even though they were well into their adulthood. The characters were ridiculous in nature and bound by the duties of their status. Even though they were all financially stable, they seemed to be unable to live their lives freely. It would be assumed that with wealth comes peace of mind, but this is not so with the characters in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mosquitoes&lt;/span&gt;. I believe the most freely living characters were Gordon, though he was bound by his own arrogance, and Mrs. Maurier's niece Patricia who rejected her aunt's Southern belle frivolity.&lt;br /&gt;     Mr. Gordon is a very interesting character in that he completely rejects the absurdness of the other characters. Even though he's completely overwhelmed in the work of his hands, he doesn't take time out to bother in the business of nonsense. This bothered Mrs. Maurier when he rejected her invitation to the yacht trip. Patricia seemed to be the only character in the novel to grab Gordon's attention away from his art and into who she was. Upon meeting her, he was pulled from his one sided view of life, which only included himself and his art, to Patricia's point of view. These two characters seemed to be in a world of their own apart from the other characters.&lt;br /&gt;     Mr. Talliaferro represents the adult William Faulkner especially in his keen eye for taste and somewhat ambiguous sexual preference. He describes himself as being comfortable with women's clothing and possessions. This is a trait most heterosexual men do not possess. Despite Mr. Talliaferro's autobiographical persona, he represents the awkwardness of many artistic figures. He completely embodies that awkwardness Faulkner was trying to display through his characters.&lt;br /&gt;     All of the characters make up the insane reality that the story is based upon. Mrs. Maurier lived her life in the lap of luxury supporting the talents of the artists around her while the artists enjoyed the deep thought their mental faculties allowed them. They were often engaging in deep intellectual conversations while forming their upcoming projects. This is quite different from the normal day-to-day living many other New Orleanians were engaged in during their time. It most likely is not normal for a group of adults to randomly decide to take a yachting trip together. This very behavior was what Faulkner most likely wanted his readers to recognize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Kristen Francis&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-8374602078963276208?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/8374602078963276208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/mosquitoes-insane-reality.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/8374602078963276208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/8374602078963276208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/mosquitoes-insane-reality.html' title='Mosquitoes- Insane Reality'/><author><name>Kristen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06218241246620610109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='27' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__S7ZPeHLXEU/S2n3DMencoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/JqreuJtjWRQ/S220/Kristen+pic.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-711908515260676471</id><published>2010-02-03T13:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T14:22:35.938-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Talliaferro</title><content type='html'>"Desire with Mr. Talliaferro had long since become an unfulfilled habit requiring no longer any particular object at all."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faulkner's talent for creating awkward, grotesque characters who are just simply embarassing to observe (i.e., Januarius Jones) seems to only be strengthening in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Mosquitoes&lt;/span&gt;. Mr. Talliaferro seems a strong candidate for the grotesques in the novel thus far: so utterly concerned with sexuality, outward appearances, and "art," yet at an utter loss as to how to function as a person, Mr. Talliaferro seems to go through many arduous processes (making friends with artists, creating a huge fuss out of carrying a milk bottle, etc.) without any idea of why he does so. I think his presumed name itself is an interesting sign of his futile attempts at being some kind of cultured gentleman. He seems so eager to escape his obscure agrarian roots in Alabama, yet in Italian, "talli" means something along the lines of "tiller," and "ferro" typically indicates chains, rods, or horseshoes made of iron. Thus he ends up changing his common name of "Tarver" to something that is even more closely associated with farming and labor. Faulkner's interest in languages (remember he took French and Spanish for that one semester in college) seems to indicate he had a good idea of the joke he was playing on this luckless character. That and the fact that, as we saw in class last week, when it comes to Faulkner, there is always a reason for everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a candidate for the grotesque, however, it's important that Talliaferro not only be repugnant, but also manage to invoke some pity or sympathy from the reader. Some may not agree, but I found myself feeling quite sorry for him. He's like an overgrown child, running around trying to fit in with all sorts of people, but forgetting to actually have a personality himself. This shows up quite early in our introduction to him, as he hangs around the sculptor Gordon and wishes to himself that he had acquired the "habit of masturbation" when he was younger so as to be more pleasing to his "artistic acquaintances." He is easily bullied by the silly, simpering Mrs. Maurier, completely ignored by her niece Patricia, and made the butt of Fairchild's jokes. Nobody takes poor Mr. Talliaferro seriously. Even Mrs. Maurier, the collector of men, doesn't seem to count him among her most interesting acquaintances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't seem to be much of stretch to equate Talliaferro with the eager, hapless Faulkner. The introduction of the novel suggests that the character of Fairchild was a satirical portrait of the writer Sherwood Andersen, and the way Talliaferro trips over himself at dinner for a chance to speak with Fairchild is strongly reminiscent of the young Faulkner planting himself outside Pontalba Apartments in Jackson Square to wait for Andersen to come out. While, as in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Soldiers' Pay&lt;/span&gt;, the characters of &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Mosquitoes&lt;/span&gt; seem to be a composite representation of Faulkner, these characters differ in that Faulkner seems to be having a good time with them. It's almost as if he had learned to lighten up since his last novel, with all its cumbersome symbolism and "dying gods," and live it up a little. I enjoyed reading this prologue because sometimes it's nice to read an author who seems willing to laugh at himself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-711908515260676471?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/711908515260676471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/mr-talliaferro.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/711908515260676471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/711908515260676471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/mr-talliaferro.html' title='Mr. Talliaferro'/><author><name>Amanda Williams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12751623429440309796</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-4386770321581869842</id><published>2010-02-02T22:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T22:50:11.148-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mosquitoes - Youth v Old</title><content type='html'>There were so many artist-types wandering the city streets, engaging in critical discussions on the major institutions – I honestly had to remind myself a couple of times that I was not reading “Another Country” or “Giovanni’s Room.” And of course Gordon’s appreciation of a male physique on a female plane just made it all the more James Baldwin-esque.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;But I am pretty sure the similarity between a James Baldwin novel written in the 60s and this prologue, written in the 20s, is totally irrelevant. It is only my own lack of exposure to the bohemian lifestyle that makes me see the link at all. In fact, come to think of it, Margaret Atwood’s “Cat’s Eye” involves characters immersed in the artist’s lifestyle, and obviously Maugham wrote of such things. Come to think of it, a lot of authors covered this kind of lifestyle in their writing.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;I guess my point (for I’m just going to go ahead and pretend I have one) is that this is not something I would have expected William Faulkner to write. I am pretty sure I feel this way because it is so “urban.” New Orleans is no backwater town. But, of course, Mrs. Maurier’s niece is still compared to a poplar. Gordon is a hawk.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to the real point of my response: youth versus old age. Or, at least, the coming of old age.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;I feel that what Faulkner wishes to convey about youth in this prologue is so complex that it would be too difficult to attempt to explain (if, indeed, I even fully understood it – I don’t) at midnight. And I’ve already wasted so many words on irrelevant nonsense. But I will do my best.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;The prologue is introduced with a very poetic explanation of what I interpreted to be a description of mosquitoes. In the spring, when they first appear, the mosquitoes are young, fragile enough to easily kill. But, by August, when they are fat with blood, they become “cunning” and “lustful” as they make their way “toward the moon of decay and death.” A life cycle is therefore being presented.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;This can be tied in very easily to our characters.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;“Spring and the cruelest months were gone, the cruel months, the wantons that break the fat hybernatant dullness and comfort of time; August was on the wing, and September – a month of languorous days regretful as woodsmoke. But Mr. Talliaferro’s youth, or lack of it, troubled him no longer. Thank God.”&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;When discussing “Soldiers’ Pay,” the idea of beauty as a reminder of decay was presented. In the above quote from “Mosquitoes,” Spring seems to be cruel because of its very wantonness – that is, its frolicsome and youthful nature. In the case of Mr. Talliaferro, wantonness would be depressing because he himself is no longer young. But, now that Spring is over, his “youth, or lack of it, troubled him no longer.” In fact, we find him in August, feeling in good spirits. This quote immediately ties the reader into the description previous to the prologue. Because Mr. Talliaferro thrives on August, it would appear that he is somehow related to the near-death, vengeful version of the mosquito.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Maurier is another aged character, and her recognition of the disparity between her own age and the youth of her daughter and Gordon is made very clear by Faulkner: “Mrs. Maurier sighed, feeling her age, the imminence of dark and death. She seemed not only unable to get new men any more, but to hold to the old ones, even…Mr. Talliaferro, too…age, age…”&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;Interestingly enough, when Mr. Talliaferro and Mrs. Maurier are around Gordon, they feel the sting of the mosquitoes.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;As for youth, Gordon’s statue of a young, flat-chested virgin is revered by Mrs. Maurier’s niece, as well as by Mr. Talliaferro, who says:  “Do you see what he has caught?  Do you see? The spirit of youth, of something fine and hard and clean in the world; something we all desire until our mouths are stopped with dust.” And Gordon and the niece themselves possess some of the qualities of Faulkner’s faun: unselfconsciousness, comparisons to things of the natural world – hawks and poplars, for example. Clearly, youth is presented as the ideal, what is hungered for. In a way, it would seem the mosquitoes should be munching on the younguns. But obviously Faulkner has his reasons.&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;br /&gt;And as for the bohemian lifestyle group versus the upper-class “scorn-for-milk-bottles” group? I am assuming this is showing a similar contrast as that between youth and old age. But, at the end of the prologue, the author, Fairchild, does get attacked by mosquitoes. So what does that mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very excited to discuss this prologue in class. I can’t wait to find out all of the hidden, clever layers I did not understand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-4386770321581869842?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/4386770321581869842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/mosquitoes-youth-v-old.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4386770321581869842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/4386770321581869842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/mosquitoes-youth-v-old.html' title='Mosquitoes - Youth v Old'/><author><name>MorganMiller</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10469250277763703536</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-9162544296920142286</id><published>2010-02-01T17:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T17:48:14.415-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mosquitoes Didn't Suck</title><content type='html'>I would first like to call attention to my nuanced, incredibly clever post title. &amp;nbsp;Layers and layers of meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, to the prologue. &amp;nbsp;I've heard it said that an author is a composite of his characters. &amp;nbsp;Or maybe I just made that up moments ago; at any rate, doesn't it sound about right? &amp;nbsp;Certainly, in the case of &lt;i&gt;Mosquitoes&lt;/i&gt;, it &amp;nbsp;holds up based on what I've read thus far. &amp;nbsp;As I have discerned from our biographical recapitulation, Faulkner seems to be equal parts Gordon, Talliaferro, and Fairchild; Fairchild, of course, because he is an author. &amp;nbsp;As the Semitic gentleman (Julius) states, there is - or was - a certain conception that writers are not tantamount to artists. &amp;nbsp;Faulkner is also Gordon, then, because he seems to persist in his career at transcending the glass ceiling separating writers from artists. &amp;nbsp;We have observed this less artfully (pun probably intended) in Faulkner's early published poetry, and we observe it more subtly in this prologue; Fairchild, due in part to his grasp and command of language, is quite personable but still knows his way around self-important busybodies like Hooper. &amp;nbsp;In contrast, Gordon is perceptibly exasperated and aloof even among his flatterers; observe the drop in temperature from the street exchange between Talliaferro and Mrs. Maurier to their ensuing brief visit with Gordon in his studio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, of course, there is Talliaferro. &amp;nbsp;In the brief exposition provided, the main gist seems to be that he prefers to obscure his Alabama roots, unremarkable life, and even his backwoods surname, in the interest of perpetuating the popular perception of his personality. &amp;nbsp;In this light, the fact that Patricia calls him Tarver as they part - a name she should have no way of knowing - is quite interesting; hopefully it is explained later. &amp;nbsp;Talliaferro (nee Tarver) seems rather effeminate; his preoccupation with his clothing, his obsequiousness and deference, even his assumption of a new last name (traditionally the lot of a newly married woman). &amp;nbsp;Sort of Faulkneresque, I think, both in his dandyhood and his desire to define himself without actually having&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;done&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll leave it to someone else to comment about Gordon v. Patricia. &amp;nbsp;Can't wait to get them on a boat together. &amp;nbsp;Mmm, mmm, mmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, let's talk about everyone itching, slapping, and scratching. &amp;nbsp;Hey, must be the titular mosquitoes. &amp;nbsp;They are pervasive, and they chiefly strike at Talliaferro, near the beginning of the prologue, and at Patricia, near its end. &amp;nbsp;Whether their choice of victim is anything other than coincidence remains to be seen, but I will comment that the character most reminiscent of a mosquito thus far is Mrs. Maurier. &amp;nbsp;She is, after all, a mindless thing that flits about vapidly and draws vitality from the lives of others; this is true of her furtive need to understand art (or appear to) and also of her need to surround herself with men. &amp;nbsp;As her frank assessment of Talliaferro reveals, any man will do. &amp;nbsp;Will this turn out to be a critique of the relationship between artist, patron, and appreciator, likening one of these groups to a parasitic insect? &amp;nbsp;Stay tuned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-9162544296920142286?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/9162544296920142286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/mosquitoes-didnt-suck.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/9162544296920142286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/9162544296920142286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/02/mosquitoes-didnt-suck.html' title='Mosquitoes Didn&apos;t Suck'/><author><name>Ira Wray</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11479216511733628508</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-548884131377664643</id><published>2010-01-27T16:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T16:02:59.736-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tierney M. Donovan'/><title type='text'>Soldier's Pay</title><content type='html'>&lt;span lang="EN"&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;This was my first time reading Faulkner and at first I was pretty intrigued and excited to see how the story progressed. Unfortunately, as the page numbers grew, my interest waned. I kept feeling like I was missing something, and that I should go back and reread chapters to understand what was going on. Teresha mentioned Kate Chopin’s novel, &lt;i&gt;At Fault. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;Soldier’s Pay&lt;/i&gt; was certainly not the painful read that Chopin’s novel turned out to be, but it did stir in me the same feelings-- like, &lt;i&gt;when will this be over? &lt;/i&gt;mainly. There were times the descriptions Faulkner used were so vivid and beautiful, and I even wrote some lines down. He did repeat himself a few times as when describing women’s mouths as scars, and he seemed to favor saying that someone’s eyes darkened when that were angry -- which I liked. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Character-wise, I was kind of wanting more of a clearer picture of Donald before the war. I know there were details given, but I felt that there was something missing that made it less sad or tragic than it should have been. The most sad character, to me, was Emmy. She got the short end of the stick in so many ways. She loved Donald so much, he had sex with her and then forgot her, even still, she cared for him when the woman he was to marry hardly visited, and Emmy’s hesitance/silence when asked if she would marry Donald ended up being so sadly decisive. Emmy was so different than Cecily, and Cecily, as reckless and unsure of everything as she was, ended up, pretty much, getting what she wanted. I did not dislike her character, but she was hard to understand. She was young, and Faulkner did a really good job of capturing her confusion about the predicament she was in, and how she handled it was, I thought, very immature but honest, nonetheless. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;George Farr was my favorite of all of the characters. I really liked the chapter where he was drunk out in public at a drugstore and got a call from Cecily and immediately tried to sober up by drinking water. I liked him a lot-- he was so devoted even when he should not have been and even when he knew better. I was glad he ended up with Cecily, even though she was flaky. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Januarius Jones’ character was one that I kept asking myself why was even included in the book. I did not and still do not really understand the significance of him in &lt;i&gt;Soldier’s Pay. &lt;/i&gt;He was annoying and reminded me of the character Ignatius from John Kennedy Toole’s &lt;i&gt;A Confederacy of Dunces. &lt;/i&gt;Not just because he was fat, but because he was so arrogant and there did not seem to be a real reason for him to be so. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;This book, overall, was not the best. It started out with so much promise (to me) but ended up fizzling out by the middle. There were beautiful descriptors but overall I stopped caring about most of the characters and, really, what happened at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-548884131377664643?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/548884131377664643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/01/soldiers-pay_27.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/548884131377664643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/548884131377664643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/01/soldiers-pay_27.html' title='Soldier&apos;s Pay'/><author><name>Tierney Donovan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05923801274619800137</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4872843671866061485.post-2523591167688321597</id><published>2010-01-27T15:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T15:50:04.707-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Faulkner&apos;s Identity exposed in Soldiers&apos; Pay'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Many of us may be familiar with the term “looking glass self”. By definition it refers to the way a person see’s himself through others perceptions in society and in turn gains identity. We imagine how we appear to others, we imagine the judgment of that appearance, and we develop ourselves through the judgments of others. Faulkner however, spins this; he formulates his identity using this process, yet is focused on how he thinks others should judge him, not how they actually do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In many ways this is applies to Solders’ Pay. Faulkner’s first novel mirrors his own life and the book plays the role of the other, allowing Faulkner to gain identity: whether intentional or not, whether recognized or not. This novel is young, as are the characters, and in relation to the external circumstances particularly those descending from the war, in a sense it is small and naive. It was not accepted and received substantial criticism. The book itself mirrors Faulkner’s experience enlisting into the war. He was criticized as well; he did not fit the standards because of his height. He came home in a well-crafted façade, a injured soldier; that was the way in which he wished to be perceived by society; even more so, as a war hero. This character he becomes reappears in his first novel as Lieutenant Donald Mahon. He is our means of transportation throughout the context of Soldiers’ Pay. Donald is actually an injured vet, something Faulkner obviously wanted to be. Within this character, Faulkner’s fabricated looking glass self is deeply rooted. In other words, the way he wanted society to view him is projected in his own life as well as through this character. Other instances in which Faulkner’s life is visible appear by means of Margaret Powers. She resembles Faulkner’s fiancée Estelle, both unfaithful, though circumstantially; they rely heavily on their explanations for breaking off their engagements. There is a theme in the novel that gives insight into Faulkner’s personality: silence. We have the soldier, who can barely communicate; his experience in the war is quieted because of this. Similarly, the culture at this time is unaware of the circumstances of war. The people at home have no clue of the trauma these soldiers endured, and a majority of the survivors who are able to speak of their experience are unable to do so; mostly because of posttraumatic stress or injury—something along those lines. Thus, it remains rather quieted, silenced, a secret, blank as the world is to a blind man. Faulkner also, silenced his true experience and kept that from people by forging a new identity after the war. These examples of silence all contribute to the irony that arises given that silence is set inside the novel’s dizzying and elongated dialogue. However, if we pay close attention to the discourse it is evident that the silence I am speaking of is of emotional. The true feelings harbored in these characters are suppressed yet are inevitably exposed unintentionally. Particularly by focusing on what isn’t spoken.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4872843671866061485-2523591167688321597?l=blognapatawpha.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/feeds/2523591167688321597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/01/many-of-us-may-be-familiar-with-term.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2523591167688321597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4872843671866061485/posts/default/2523591167688321597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blognapatawpha.blogspot.com/2010/01/many-of-us-may-be-familiar-with-term.html' title=''/><author><name>colbyjamrock</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='17' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_SU1cYzy08wU/Sbh8iUSkyiI/AAAAAAAAAA8/-44uRgogudM/S220/FISHIES.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
