The Sound and the Fury

It’s time once again for another update in my Year of Living (Actually Reading) Fictionally. The previous book covered in this series was Chuck Palahniuk’s ​Fight Club. I decided to pivot in another direction with my next selection: the great William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury. Most of you are probably aware of this incredibly difficult novel’s literary significance in the American landscape; as another author I had embarrassingly managed not to read until now I felt it was my duty to take on what is considered his greatest achievement.

And what an achievement! While this book was staggeringly obtuse to puzzle through at times (especially the first two sections) it was without a doubt one of the greatest books I have ever read and clearly established Faulkner’s legacy alongside other great American writers such as Fitzgerald and Hemingway. I’m not going to spend much time on the plot of the novel, parts of which if I’m being honest flew way over my head and will require a second, more in-depth read at some later part of my life. It centers around a traditional southern family during the first decades of the 20th century and how each member copes with their siblings’ perceived faults and the tarnished reputation the (once respectable) Compson name. What I really want to do is draw out some of the massive literary lessons that can be interpreted from this work. More so than any other book I’ve included on this list, however, is the fact that each reader can perceive their own conclusions about the characters and life itself from these pages, and so I would absolutely recommend this book to anyone who is looking to delve into a complete work of art. Here are some of my takeaways:

1. The use of language. Faulkner is the only author I’ve encountered thus far who was actually able to get away with breaking almost every “writing rule” there is. Of course readers of my blog will know that there really are no rules that exist, and when the author is such a phenomenal talent this is placed in even more sharp relief. At various points in the novel Faulkner seems to abandon all pretence of using grammar, punctuation, or even basic narrative style to convey his story, and yet somehow the book still works. This is partially due to the use of...
2. “Stream of consciousness.” Generally what this novel is best known for, Faulkner was incorporating a style first pioneered by that most maddening of genius authors, James Joyce. The first two parts of this novel demonstrate this intensely, with sections bleeding into each other regularly in what appeared to me as an attempt to literally show on the page how the mind actually operates. I have never broached another author’s work that has even come close to this level of understanding, especially in the second part as we peer into the oldest Compson sibling’s increasingly destabilized state of mind. This section in particular struck me, as I have almost never seen a better realized description of the mind of someone who almost definitely has a mental illness.
3. Use of perspective. This is another tool that is available to any writer, but it takes a brilliant mind to really do fresh things with it. Not only is each section of this book narrated by a different character, each with their own wildly divergent problems of reliability, but the text itself flows through different time periods and settings, with hardly a signpost ever set down for a reader to find solid footing. While this contributes to the sheer intensity of taking on this book for the first time, it didn’t bother me all that much as it is ultimately serving the story itself. Essentially, most of the book takes place over three days in 1928, but as Faulkner understood all too well, none of us really see our lives as one linear path. This is the true genius of this novel, and is something I am going to be pondering over as I continue my own writing career.

​To be honest, these three lessons are just barely scratching the surface of what this book can teach readers. The only way to truly understand and grapple with it is to sit down and read it, and see how it connects to your own life. I will add the caveat that Faulkner, like Twain before him, did not shy away from using the language of his day to provide realism, which sadly does include a huge amount of racial animosity. Some readers may be downright turned off by how the black characters’ dialog is written in an extremely phonetic style, especially given our own present age of racial distrust. Even so, I still would recommend this book as it is an unflinching gaze into a disturbing period in our country’s history. And I cannot state enough what an incredibly rewarding experience reading this book can be for any reader.

Next up I am heading in an altogether different direction, tackling a book that was first recommended to me by my father-in-law: Exodus by Leon Uris. Stay tuned for the next update in my year of fiction!