This, Chapter 8, has to be the toughest one yet. It took me a while to figure out that Quentin and his roommate, Shreve are telling the story yet again, but from a perspective of guessing and imagining what might have taken place. This seems on the edge of metafiction as they are “rewriting” the story that even so, has been changed so many times in this novel just from the various points of view. It’s an interesting technique, yet it is even more difficult to follow because of its speculative nature. And, of course, Faulkner’s manner of rambling on.
Such as this:
Because Bon would know what Henry was doing, just as he had always known what Henry was thinking since that first day when they had looked at one another. Maybe he would know all the better what Henry was doing because he did not know what he himself was going to do, that he would not know until all of a sudden some day it would burst clear and he would know then that he had known all the time, what it would be, so he didn’t have to bother about himself and so all he had to do was just to watch Henry trying to reconcile what he (Henry) knew he was going to do with all the voices of his heredity and training which said No. No. You cannot. You must not. You shall not. (p. 342)
And honestly, it doesn’t end there but continues in this vein for a few pages yet. But here’s a succinct way of showing Fulkner’s style:
(“Listen,” Shreve said, cried. “It would be while..) (p. 339)
And again:
(…) then Henry said suddenly, cried suddenly: (p. 342)
Why say it once when twice will do?
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology