Faulkner definitely lived in a different time than us. The world was a lot scarier in Faulkner's time. Though I did read in a column recently that safety in the world is only an illusion. I don't think that his writings inspire hope. I think he is an excellent writer, but I received no visions of hope in his works. I think his early writings do reflect the reader watching the end of mankind. Not hope of a future.
On the other hand, I think people are drawn to gruesome, grotesque, suspenseful stories. If you only write about flowers and butterflies, it can tend to be a bit dull and boring. But if you write as Faulkner did in Sanctuary and most of his other works about the fall and faults of mankind, it tends to make you suspicious of other's actions and thoughts. It makes you wonder about people's motives, thoughts, and moral compasses.
I was brought up with the motif, "let no evil thing come before your eyes". This would explain why we didn't have a television and I was only allowed to read select books. I think the world is filled with evil, but I also think we shouldn't constantly dwell on that. Write about something bad that may happen, but give us hope. Don't leave Temple a ruined female with no chance of having a good family of her own. Don't kill Quinten, leave Caddie a slut, shut out her daughter Quinten, and leave us with psychopath Jason. Don't leave us with the thought that poor Dewey Dell's baby is going to have a very discouraging, poor future with a grandmother who is going to work herself to death for lazy Anse. Come on, Faulkner. Lift my heart and give me something to be proud of and something more to hope for in the future.
When Hemingway claimed (probably? certainly? drunk) that American literature began with Huck Finn, I like to think that he meant that it began with the end of chapter 15 of HF. I.e. the chapter that concludes with Jim taking the chance to call Huck out on his [his, the no-account son of the town drunk who faked his own death to get away from that abusive dad] trying to demean Jim. Jim essentially confronts Huck with the choice between accepting his white-trash identity, or repudiating it by accepting Jim's concern for him.
ReplyDeleteKey word = confrontation. real uplift only comes after you've been able to confront evil and suffering and maybe somehow transform them into acceptance and maybe joy. and something like freedom only comes when you've learned to leave behind the gothic prisons of Compson or Bundren behaviors . . . but, as Quentin shows, that ain't for everyone. [And, there's a great unwritten novel waiting: Caddy's story, from Caddy's point of view]
Hmm...so maybe Caddy did escape? And Temple as well? Something I have to think about...but there is no knight in shining armor at the end.
ReplyDeleteThe death of my father=suffering=not joy, definitly not freedom (at least for me), but I have accepted that death is a part of life and every second of life is to be valued.
So, life lessons? How not to live? Faulkner's freedom is depressing to me.