The Power of Myth & The Bear

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.

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?

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 all over 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.

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 should be able to.

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.

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.

A Second Look at Nancy

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.
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.
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.
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.

Faulkner,Colored,and Progression

Go Down,Moses 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.

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 is 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.

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.

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.

Sorry if this is a rant, but that's my feelings on the matter.

"Grandfather"

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...

Who the Hell Killed Owen Taylor?

As I've read The Big Sleep 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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".
The movie suffered greatly from a restrictive code. The screenplay did a good job of getting the grittiness of the novel.
Well I'd rather get wet in here than out there.

The Big Sleep is Anything but a Big Yawn

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.
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.
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.
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:
. . . 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)
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.
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.

The Big Sleep

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?

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.

This movie had some really great lines in it. Of course, delivered by Humphrey Bogart.