Impressions of The Sound and the Fury

So, I didn’t flunk out of any classes on the first day, but I did encounter another unprecedented situation.

In my American Modernism class, my professor told us that if we have the time we ought to read The Sound and the Fury now, even though it’s not due until later, so that we will have time to re-read it. Figuring that Faulkner’s novel must be quite the beast to warrant such advice, I took the time to read it once through.

After finishing my first read-through, overall I liked it. However, each of the four sections of the novel (each with a different narrator) generally improved as the novel continued. The last two were excellent. The first, however, I could not make heads or tails of.

Now, I don’t mind if a novel is difficult, but the first section is narrated by a retard (literally, not pejoratively). In Faulkner’s own words from a question-and-answer session with an undergraduate class, he is “incapable of relevancy.” Now, that’s a good way to start a novel, isn’t it? Set the theme with the character who can barely string two coherent thoughts together, much less relate an extended narrative. The second section, and to a much lesser extent the third, also wander around more than the typical novel, but are at least coherent. In fact, my greatest frustration of the novel is that, when Faulkner isn’t being deliberately obscure and just gives a (mostly) straight narrative, the book is compelling.

Interestingly, though, Faulkner himself may have had a similar opinion. In the same interview mentioned above (included in my Norton Critical Edition of the novel), Faulkner refers to the disjointed narrative of the first section as “part of the failure[...] that’s a bad way to do it.” He explains that, at the time he wrote the novel, he thought beginning with the idiot was the best way to lay the groundwork for the rest of the novel, but given the previous quote it seems he regretted the decision.

Posting on a Blog

Not a whole lot to add today – just a couple brief items of interest.

First, for those who applaud Senator Obama’s recent speech on race that’s gotten so much attention and praise, you may be interested in this alternate take, courtesy of “Men Like Trees, Walking.”

Second, on a lighter note and for the writers out there, the Gender Guesser. Give it a piece of prose writing, and it will estimate whether you’re a man or woman based on the words you use. I fed it my “Somewhat True Story,” as well as a few other pieces, and I was consistently guessed as a man. No surprise, but it denies me the “you write like a girl” jokes.  Do read the explanation of the Gender Guesser, though, since it’s both interesting on its own but also explains how they came up with their algorithm.

That’s all for now, folks.

A Somewhat True Story

Today, something a little different…

~~~~~~

A couple days ago, in the evening, I got into a little accident driving home. Nothing much, just a little tap on the bumper when the girl in front of me started braking right after I merged behind her into her lane. I blame the wet roads and heavy traffic.

After pulling over to the shoulder, we both got out and, after glancing at our vehicles I said, “Oh, this doesn’t look too bad. Just a little scuff mark.” I looked over to the girl I’d run into, a few inches shorter than I and probably my own age. She was studying me very intently.
“You don’t look too bad,” she said, as though this were just the natural sort of thing to say in this situation.
Always quick on my feet mentally, I said, “Uh, what?”
She then looked past me into my car. “Is that your little sister in the passenger seat?”
I looked back and confirmed that the person in the passenger seat was, in fact, my sister.
“I see.” She looked into my eyes. “I went to see a fortune teller today.”
“Oh, really?” I was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable, and my voice shook just a touch.
“Yes. She said I would meet my future husband today. That he’d be with his younger sister, and would run into me with his car.”
There was silence, except for the light rain and a passing car.
“Well,” I began, “uh, you’re looking pretty nice yourself, then.” I really had no clue how to handle this situation, so I figured I’d just run with it for a while.
“Thank you, but…” she trailed off, and her eyes wandered to her left.
“Yes?”
“She said that he would hit me, not my car.”
“Most people, when they’re hit, though, just say ‘He hit me,’ not ‘He hit my car.’ She could still be right.” Defending the fortune teller’s prediction may seem like a strange thing to do, but this girl was really cute.
“Yes, that’s true.” She paused a moment, made eye contact again, then continued. “So, now what do we do?” Apparently she was as new to all this as I was.
“First, let me get an umbrella. It’s starting to rain a bit.” It was drizzling rain, but mostly I wanted to buy some time to consider my next course of action.

As I walked away, though, my Intended got hit by a young man driving another car with his sister. Last I heard, they’re going to have the ceremony as soon as she recovers from her broken leg.