Good-Bye Faulkner

In attempting to analyzing Faulkner, I have decided that not even old William himself knew what the heck he was talking about half the time. He was a pathological liar, claimed that things meant nothing when they really did and vice versa, none of it makes sense-kind of like his writing. On the surface everything is chaotic, out of order, and just plain weird and it gets written off because it's a pain to sift through. But I think that's how he wanted it to be, he wrote for a very small audience, he didn't write for popularity and the comfort of the masses, he wrote for the people who cared enough to trudge through it and in their trudging could find beauty. 

Overall, I admire Faulkner's ability to send subliminal messages through his stories. His giant Screw Yous to the critics, his critiques of Southern culture and traditions and his cynicism all shine through the complicated sentences and overabundance of characters. I admire the beautiful simplicity of the stories once you sift through the complicated sentences and format. Faulkner's writing is all contradictions, all beautiful contradictions. 

Happy Trails Faulkner, 'til we meet again

It's been quite the journey of epic proportions in this class. But, alas, our time has come to an end 'ol Billy Faulkner (I call him Billy because we are friends now).

This class and the late nights accompanied with it were surprisingly great. I had no idea that I could care to read his work until it was forced upon me, but like we learned in Sanctuary, it's the things that are forced on us that causes us to change for the better, or worse....Temple you bitch.

When I started this course I knew that it would be somewhat of an undertaking that would better acquaint me with Faulkner. I had only read "Barn Burning", "A Rose for Emily", and As I Lay Dying before the class started. Needless to say, I wasn't super thrilled to have to read the rest of his works. However, I am happy to say that this class provided me with insights of not only Faulkner's works, but his style as well. His characters and narrative style are what set him apart, even today. And watching and reading about an entire world that he created really does garner a lot of respect from me.

My project for As I Lay Dying gave me a new-found appreciation for the story, and the characters; if I have to teach it to 10th graders once a year, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

My favorite stories were definitely Sanctuary, The Sound and The Fury, and Go Down, Moses. I will definitely look to those stories in future English and writing classes. I would put The Sound and The Fury ahead of the others only because it felt like we familiarized ourselves with it the most. It also allowed me to first acquaint myself with Faulkner's writing style. It was a different way of writing that I very much enjoyed, and it gave me a lot of ideas for my final project for this class.

But all in all, I don't hate Faulkner anymore, so I guess Andrews succeeded in getting me to "drink the kool-aid" if you will. It makes me think if I will ever appreciate Nathaniel Hawthorne.....

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA sorry. I was talking crazy at the end there.

Post Project Thoughts

http://prezi.com/xbrkuistkrqy/faulkners-family-trees/?kw=view-xbrkuistkrqy&rc=ref-33608567

Here is the link to a shared final project with Salome.

After doing the project, I

   1. Will be glad to never read about incest again.
   2. Have a new found respect for the intricate details in which Faulkner layers his stories.
   3. Look forward to reading more Faulkner novels in the distant future.

I can honestly say I enjoyed the class, and discussing his works. But this is a side to American Literature that I have not loved yet, like I normally would. Faulkner seemed, to me, arrogant and writing to be smarter than the reader, writing to confuse. Which, I don't entirely mind, if it's your thing, but it all seemed narcisstic to me. Though, I can now say that one of my favorite short stories is now one of Faulkner's. I loved Pantaloon In Black. It is probably one of the only works I thoroughly enjoyed. The rest I liked because of the commentary that it created, not because of the actual content or writing. I'm hoping that appreciation for such things will come with age, since I went to be just like Andrews when I grow up. Haha. :P

I used an emoticon in my last blog. Cool.

How I Survived Faulkner

Faulkner has been a very difficult course for me. Not only was the material out of my comfort zone along with its concepts, but I also was introduced to a new way of storytelling. Now I must admit I would certainly like to try imitating the modernist stream of consciousness in my writing at some point, but I know that I would never be able to master it to the level that Faulkner has. In that I will always be looking back to this course and reviewing my multiple pages of notes on different works of Faulkner. One thing I will walk away with having accomplished is making sense of the family trees of his characters. I have discussed in previous blogs what a Prezi is and that Sonia and I had intent to do one for our final project. Well here is the fruit of our efforts over the course of the semester: http://prezi.com/xbrkuistkrqy/faulkners-family-trees/?kw=view-xbrkuistkrqy&rc=ref-21851645 . I must say that I am very proud of this link and I would encourage anyone with time on their hands to look through it. Not only did this project test my skills as an English major, but also my acquired skills in the Multimedia course I was taking this semester because I created the formatting of the Prezi from scratch. After sifting through generations of confusing incest and affairs complicating the family trees of Faulkner, Sonia and I finally came to an understanding of where each character fit in and we have formatted the Prezi to flow in the right order which was no easy ordeal. We also included an art show to describe the books we covered instead of just writing a blurb. This was also done because we easily bored of figuring out genealogies and wanted to add a more creative element. Anyway, I am very happy to have taken this course because I have made friends in a field that I am new in and am finally beginning to feel like I fit in somewhere in this university. Thank you all!

Hunting in the Garden of Eden

Wow, so from a rattlesnake and a tree full of squirrels, we get an allusion to the Garden of Eden. Pretty cool! I got to give you that one Faulkner. That was awesome! My wish is that he would of forgotten some of the genealogy and continued the hunting story! I am not a hunter, on the contrary, I sidestep to avoid ants. But, I did enjoy the hunting story! It was amazing how he linked the bear to Sam and his Indian heritage! Now, in this story, I found progress, the death of the past (Old South, slavery, etc), but I wasn't left with a broken family. An upset Boon, yes, an Ike and Major de Spain saddened by the loss of the wilderness and the old ways, yes. But, (and I know you are not supposed to start a sentence with "but", but we are discussing Faulkner, who very rarely obeyed grammatical rules) I had hope that the progress would eradicate the wrongs of history. I also liked the idea that we are still part of the earth when we die, i.e. the idea that Sam knew Ike was there in the forest. All in all, I enjoyed this better than Santuary!

Final Project: As I Lay Dying Poetry Companion

Introduction

Inspired by As I Lay Dying. I have compiled a poetic companion for Faulkner’s novel. Each section of the novel is divided into a respective stanza (59 sections with 59 stanzas). However, in conjunction with Faulkner’s narrative style, each narrator is presented in a different poetic style. Darl, who is the main narrator of the story, has a twelve syllable AABB rhyme scheme. Both Cora and Vernon Tull, as they are quite the judgmental and observational people, are given free verse styles. Dewey Dell, reflecting her teenage emotion, has a short ABAB lyric rhyme scheme. Cash is a man of few words in his sections, but he makes the most sense, so he expresses his sections through limericks. Vardaman, who is very observational, has loose meter blank verse. Anse’s sections contain the terza rima, or three line poetry, ending with another line of underlying thought. Jewel only speaks once in a section, so I chose to convert his to a haiku. Addie Bundren speaks through a free verse sonnet while Whitfield has a couplet describing his section. Peabody speaks through five line stanzas or Cinquains, and all other “one-time narrators” are reflected through normal lyric poetry. As to symbolize the dramatic shifts in storytelling no two consecutive poems are in the same place on the page as you read down; much like the reader is treated to constantly shifting points of view, this poetic companion will shift in accordance with the novel.

Darl

I’m ahead of Jewel, as we make the cotton-house.

I take the path around, while he, like a sly mouse,

Goes into one window and out of the other,

As we reach the bluff, with our carpenter brother.

            Cora

            The cakes turned out great, really great;

            There isn’t much use for them now, but they still turned out great.

            Poor ol’ Addie, she could bake like no other;

            ‘cept now she just lays there as Cash tries to finish…

            The cakes turned out great though, really great.

Darl

I take a drink of water. It is warmish-cool,

As Pa, fresh snuff in, asks me where to find Jewel,

I reply, “down by the barn, harnessing a horse”

And I hear Jewel ride it, stop, and feed him by force.

Jewel

                        Cash is a damn fool.

                        Doing that in front of her.

Leave her well alone.             

Darl

A three dollar trip, we’ll be back by tomorrow.

As to combat time’s inevitable sorrow.

In the air I feel and hear all of the voices,

They hang in my head, as I ponder our choices.

Cora

            Darl is different from the others,

            Bidding his mother farewell before his trip.

            It was like he knew.

            He didn’t get to say

            Everything he wanted to, but it was sweet.

                                    Dewey Dell

                                    Lafe and I were fillin’ sacks

                                    And I felt like the fool,

                                    Darl, he knew behind our backs

                                    And now he’s takin’ Jewel

                                                Tull

                                                Those Bundrens, blunderin’ Bundrens;

                                                That boy comes up with a fish for his ma, durn nigh as big as he.

                                                Anse just keeps on rubbin’ his knees.

                                                They’ll be alright, Lord willin’, after it’s all said an’ done

                                                            Anse

                                                            Durn that road, durn my stupid boys

                                                            Ain’t got no heart for anythin’ no more

                                                            Durn that durn weather for sappin’ all my joys

                                                            Ain’t got not heart.

Darl

During the journey, Jewel will not look back at me.

I then think of Dewey Dell and her new baby.

“Are you gonna tell Pa?” She asked me with a scare”…

Addie Bundren will die Jewel, and we won’t be there.

                                                                        Peabody

                                                                        The Bundren house

                                                                        Is not easily approached.

                                                                        And after seeing her condition,

                                                                        I wish I hadn’t encroached.

                                                                        Her eyes pushed me out, so I left.

Darl

Away from them, I can feel that Addie is gone.

Cash is looking right at her, then returns his brawn

Back to the task at hand, a box for my mother

Our journey continues, while I tell my brother.

                                                                                    Vardaman

                                                                                    My maw is dead.

                                                                                    You kilt her youself!

                                                                                    I hate that damn doctor

                                                                                    And his damn horse

                                                                                    I hit the damn horse

                                                                                    Through my damn tears.

                                    Dewey Dell

                                    For them, I cook the greens and bread,

                                    Then search for the little whelp.

                                    I find him crying cause Ma’s dead,

                                    The doctor…me, he can help.

                                                                                    Vardaman

                                                                                    She’ll be stuck inside, Cash

                                                                                    Like I was in the crib.

                                                                                    Won’t be able to breathe

                                                                                    Like I was in the crib.

                                                                                    Vernon knows that it ain’t her

                                                                                    That’ll be stuck inside that thing.

                                                Tull

                                                Well it finally happened, Sooner than I ‘da figured though

                                                Anse, that fool, and his damn son with his fish

                                                Gone an’ put holes up in that coffin we finished.

                                                Those Bundrens…that boy….Anse. Damn the storm.

Darl

Cora and Tull arrive at our place to help us.

Through the rain, they make the coffin without much fuss.

What am I? To be emptied for sleep like others?

I think I am different from my ma and brothers

                                                                                   

Cash

                                                                                    I constructed a coffin supreme,                                                                                                          it has twice grip surface on each seam.

                                                                                    It’s built on a slant,

                                                                                    Won’t let in an ant,

                                                                                    And now dear ol’ Ma can just dream.

                                                                                                Vardaman

                                                                                                She is a fish.                           

                                                                                                My mother is a fish.

                                                                                                She is not what she was.

                                                                                                She is a fish.

                                                            Tull

                                                            I came back with the doctor’s horses

                                                            And saw dear Addie laid in reverse for her dress

                                                            Jefferson can’t be done with no bridge. And that

                                                            Boy in the slough, no fish. Those Bundrens.

Darl

The buzzards circle, and I know exactly why.

I assure him that his horse-mother did not die.

 We get near the house as above the buzzards flew,

As Jewel’s words hang in my head, ringing “Goddamn you”.

                                                                                                Cash

                                                                                                I try to tell them about balance,

                                                                                                But Jewel is in some kind of trance.

                                                                                                He’s yellin’ at us

                                                                                                Makin’ all kinds of fuss

                                                                                                And tryin’ too hard to advance.

Darl

The four of us lift her up through harsh screams from him.

Jewel’s moving too fast for poor Cash with a bad limb.

I look at his green face, rugged as unkempt stone,

As he cursed, and put her in the wagon, alone.

                                                                                                            Vardaman

                                                                                                            We are leavin.

                                                                                                            Pa is shavin.

                                                                                                            Jewel has a horse mom.

                                                                                                            So I do as well.

                                                                                                            To Jefferson.  

Darl

Pa is upset, because he sees that Jewel’s leaving.                              

Cash suggests that we let him go, to keep grieving.

The mules are tied to the wagon, ready to go,

So we set off for Jefferson. Jewel’s bound to show.

                                                                                    Anse

                                                                                    Boy ain’t got respect for me or his ma dead.

                                                                                    Darl laughin at me while settin with her

                                                                                    Cash sees Jewel ridin up on us from ahead.

                                                                                    No respect.

Darl

We see Jewel approaching through the sun’s fresh brought Hell,

While Cash says the coffin’s off and will start to smell.

He approaches wood-faced, not so much as a cough.

Kicks some mud on the box, and Cash scours it off.

                                                                                    Anse

                                                                                    I’ll soon be rewarded more than I can afford,                                                                                                After today we made it to Samson with rain.

                                                                                    Sun’s hard on a farmer, but bless the Lord.                                                                                        I’ll soon have my teeth.

Samson

The Bundrens made it to my farm

And shared with me their journey yarn

And so, as not to twist their arm,

I offered shelter, they chose the barn.

My heart’s goodness I did employ,

But my loving wife did not enjoy

And so my wife, who I can’t scorn

Caused me to wait, til they left by morn.

                                                            Dewey Dell

                                                            We pass Tull’s lane yet again

                                                            Darl and Jewel don’t leave

                                                            Their thoughts and mine of Vardaman

                                                            Remind me of what I believe.

                                                                        Tull

                                                                        I see the Bundrens again, so I catch up

                                                                        To them at the river crossing with my Mule in hand.

                                                                        They all look at me with different eyes.

                                                                        “My mule aint going into that water.

Darl

When Jewel was 15, he seemed to always tire

Pa needed him for work, but that would require

His full energy, but Ma defended with force

And Jewel was able to buy and maintain his horse.

                                                                        Tull

                                                                        I helped them cross without my mule

                                                                        I held on to that Boy’s hand as we crossed.

                                                                        The water was cold, but we made it.

                                                                        I’ll help the Bundrens keep that promise.

Darl

We all reach the ford as the river runs deeper

We argue over crossing—and how to keep her

Jewel leads with his horse, then her, Cash, I, and the tools

A log strikes our progress, I jump. We lose the mules.

                                                                                    Vardaman

                                                                                    Darl, grab her!

                                                                                    Don’t let that fish escape!

                                                                                    You’re a good grabbler Darl!

                                                                                    Catch that fish Darl!

                                                                        Tull

                                                                        See what you’ve done Anse?

                                                                        I watch his children try to save themselves.

                                                                        They all made it out ‘cept the mules Cora

                                                                        The Hand of God was on their side again.

                                                                       

Darl

We end up on the other side of the river.

Cash is out and gray, without even a shiver.

Tull and Jewel start to salvage some of our supplies,

And we circle round Cash as he opens his eyes.

                                                                                                Cash

                                                                                                I told them the balance was off.

                                                                                                But they all replied with a scoff.

                                                                                                It wasn’t made sound,

                                                                                                So we almost drowned,

                                                                                                And I wake up to them with a cough.

            Cora

            Oh Addie, why?

            You think of your son as God?

            He is your cross and salvation is he?

            He will save you from water and fire will he?

            I will pray for you. Oh Addie.

Addie

I hated those kids

When I made them aware

 of me was when I felt alive

I took Anse, the hunched shy man

Who looked at me once and never looked back

I took him and had Cash

And I learned of words like motherhood,

Pride, fear, and love; I wasn’t sure if I knew any of

Them…really knew them, so I tried not to use them.

I had Darl and mother’d them, better than

Cora said that I could, I gave the kids to Anse.

My life was about getting ready to die.

To die, as Cora called me, a blind sinner.

Whitfield

Forgive me, Oh Lord! For I have sinned against this dying woman and her man.

I have returned to find she is already gone, I return to bereavement, God’s grace upon this land.

Darl

We put Cash safely on top of her and waited

For Jewel to return with help, our breath was bated

Armstid gave us refuge and food for just the night,

But Jewel stayed and tended horses, nigh out of sight.

Armstid

I offered Anse my team of mules,

And all he could do was refuse.

Brought a horse doctor for poor Cash

And the man’s consciousness did lose.

Anse scraped money together quick

To finish his journey sound

But he traded Jewel’s horse without telling him,

And neither man, nor horse, are found.

The trade went through with the mules alright,

But durn that Anse, if he aint a sight.

                                                                                                Vardaman

                                                                                                Seven circle above my head.

                                                                                                I won’t let them get close to her.

                                                                                                She is a fish.

                                                                                                Jewel is gone.

                                                                                                Now there are nine.

                                                                                                We will be in Mottson tomorrow.

                                                                                                Ten circle above my head.

Moseley

You poor little girl, what is it you desire?

I must humor you while I inquire.

A fresh bandage? A tummy ache?

What is it you….FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE!

You will not have me do such a thing,

Go find this man and get a ring,

Or tell your father, he could help,

Just leave this place before I yelp!

Who was that girl, my mind’s a wondrin’

She leaves, and I learn the name: BUNDREN

Darl

We send Dell out for water, as the new mules thud,

Because poor Cash is almost out of his good blood.

To stop, we coat his broken leg in fresh cement.

Jewel finds his way to the wagon, and off we went.

                                                                                                Vardaman

                                                                                                Jewel is back

                                                                                                Horse is still gone

                                                                                                Five circle above my head

                                                                                                Cash’s leg don’t hurt

                                                                                                Where do the birds go at night?

                                                                                                I’m gonna find out

Darl

We put you, dear mother under an apple tree

But oh my dear brother, won’t you please answer me?

We pour water on Cash cause his leg’s feeling bad.

But tell me brother Jewel…tell me who is your dad?

                                                                                                Vardaman

                                                                                                I tried to find where they go at night,

                                                                                                Dewey Dell told me not to tell.

                                                                                                My legs look black

                                                                                                Darl said she was talking to God

                                                                                                They moved her to the Barn.

                                                                                                Dewey Dell told me not to tell.

Darl

The barn was a masterpiece of fire and flame,

As Hell itself tore through its contents, walls and frame.

Jewel and I rushed in to liberate its contents,

While Vardaman, Dell, and others wait in suspense.

                                                                                    Vardaman

                                                                                    Where did Darl go?

                                                                                    The barn was gone now.

                                                                                    Cash got a leg like a nigger now

                                                                                    Mr. Gillespie told Pa he aint got sense

                                                                                    Jewel got some medicine from Dewey Dell

                                                                                    He got a back like a nigger too just like Cash

                                                                                    Don’t cry on her Darl. Stop crying.

                                                                                    Dewey Dell said I aint supposed to tell

Darl

Just one mile to Jefferson, a thought I can bless

Dewey Dell jumps out, changes to her Sunday dress.

We encounter some negroes, and one with a knife.

Who smelled our poor mama, she smells bad without life.

                                                                                                Cash

                                                                                                We got to Jefferson today

                                                                                                Gillespie had something to say

                                                                                                Put ma in the ground

                                                                                                Then new men came round

                                                                                                We helped them take poor Darl away

                        Peabody

                        Lord help the man

                        That is mended by that fool

                        Anse Bundren, whom I wouldn’t

                        Trust to mend a dumb mule.

                        Cash might walk, but he shouldn’t.

MacGowan

You poor poor girl, what is it you desire?

I will humor your pretty self while I inquire.

In some trouble are you? Oh no.

Ten dollars aint enough, you should go

You need it done do you? I see your fight.

Hows about you meet me here later tonight.

Come with me girl, down into the cellar,

This bottle, these pills, I’ll make you feel better.

                                                                                                            Vardaman

                                                                                                            Darl is going to Jackson

                                                                                                            I walk with Dewey Dell

                                                                                                            She sits me on the curb

                                                                                                            He went Crazy in our wagon

                                                                                                            Dewey Dell comes back

                                                                                                            What didn’t work?

                                                                                                            Darl is my brother.

Darl

Darl has gone to Jackson cause they think that Darl’s nuts

They hate the sound…laughter! They feel it in their guts.

Dewey Dell, Vardaman, The glass from war I guess.

“Is that why you’re laughing Darl?” Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes.

                                                            Dewey Dell

                                                            Pa asks me about my money

                                                            It’s not for me to say

                                                            I’d call him a thief, not being funny

                                                            But he takes it anyway.

                                                                                    Cash

                                                                                    Took a while waitin’ for pa

                                                                                    Takin the shovels back and all

                                                                                    He shows up complete,

                                                                                    With a new set of teeth

                                                                                    And he’s joined by our brand new “ma”.

Works Cited

Faulkner, William, and Michael Edward. Gorra. As I Lay Dying: Authoritative Text, Backgrounds and Contexts, Criticism. New York: W.W. Norton &, 2010. Print.