After Starting...

I’m more of a romantic when it comes to art.  Anything that appeals to my emotions is considered art, in my narrow opinion. Books make me laugh and cry; they are art.  Particular paintings make me nostalgic; they are art. Some music does everything, tweaks and pulls everything; its art. Dramas are art.

I’m not a huge, overwhelmingly giddy fan over the literature created this past century in Modernism.  However, I can (and do) appreciate the movement which reflects new cultural shifts. I can appreciate Faulkner’s text as art; as consciously tangible.

When I started reading Benjy and Quentin’s sections, I felt more like I was part of an experimental quest in observation (if that makes sense).  The characters are the test subjects that are picked apart by the reader.  I know their intimate feelings, perceptions, and fears.  These characters are incredibly personal in what they share with me—or rather what they are forced to share.  

 I can’t decide whether or not I actually like the style. Again, I can appreciate what Faulkner is doing, but this style isn't a favorite.  

 So far, my favorite part of Faulkner's text has been the imagery. I loved the detail of the tiny bird watching Quentin early in his section as much as I loved Benjy's perception of the world/fire.