Faulkner does tend to like a small crew as his protagonist personality–perhaps a makeup of the raw textures of each that bring together a specter of a main character that is an extension of each, and a representative of man.
Each is defined by interaction with others, reaction to events, and in this particular novel, by another character’s version of a situation in which the character played a part. Notably unusual is the retelling of the whole background by Shreve, a college roommate of Quentin’s. Faulkner is giving us more information via this path, put in the way that a listener (or reader for that matter) might recount what he has heard to insure that he has understood it well. But so much more is revealed in the retelling, new facts, new perspective, even as Faulkner follows the story in time and allows for side trails while reinforcing the history already laid out.
It also is telling of the characters. In Chapter Six, we’ve gotten a bit more background on Quentin himself; back to his childhood investigation of the Sutpen homestead in decay. Pieces come together from what he remembers and what he has been told.
The characters in a Fulkner novel are always strangely tied together through blood, loyalty, environment. In this case, Judith, who was only engaged to marry Charles Bon before he died, takes in the child of his common law wife and while keeping him there at the estate, still does him no favors in the way he is treated for he grows up resentful of both his Negro and his white background.
Faulkner uses his characters as links to each other. Particularly with the offspring of affairs versus marriage, the lines are traced through the years to braid into new generations. The use of a college roommate of Quentin’s to retell the story brings to mind the college friendship of Sutpen’s son Henry, and Charles Bon, where so much of the drama has started.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology