All right, so on this one I cheated–I did a bit of research on Faulkner’s novel and came across the term "stream of consciousness" to help keep me going on it because having done with Benjy’s section and finding that Quentin’s is written in the same manner, I needed to want to continue reading. Usually, I read without even checking the back flaps of a book so that my thoughts are not influenced by others. That’s why I post as I’m reading, rather than after completing the book. This is useful to me to see how I have grown along with the reading.
However…Faulkner’s "Sound and Fury" while not incomprehensible to me, was frustrating to my anal retentive nature and relative like of order and sense. I must say how very much I admire all those who have opened the book, read it and loved it for itself. I’m still making up my mind.
While I am awed by the concept–and I’m not sure here if Faulkner was the first to write in this "stream of consciousness" manner (at least in novel form, rather than personal diary)–it is similar to my wholehearted praise for some contemporary art that while I can do naught but prize the idea, I may hate the piece itself as far as its visual effect.
Something bothers me about Faulkner’s narrative: In Benjy’s story, I find it unbelievable (check the Great Lettuce Head posting on believability) in the language. While the thoughts are (as far as I can assume) in keeping with what I might guess of Benjy’s state of mind (mentally retarded to a fair degree), I am thrown off by the mix of thought versus language:
"I’ll run away and never come back." Caddy said. I began to cry. Caddy turned around and said "Hush" So I hushed. Then they played in the branch. Jason was playing too. He was by himself further down the branch. Versh came around the bush and lifted me down into the water again. Caddy was all wet and muddy behind, and I started to cry and she came and squatted in the water. (p. 19)
"Roskus was milking at the barn. He was milking with one hand, and groaning. Some birds sat on the barn door and watched him. One of them came down and ate with the cows. I watched Roskus milk while T.P. was feeding Queenie ad Prince. The calf was in the pig pen. It nuzzled at the wire, bawling. (p. 28)
For me, someone with Benjy’s level of comprehension might not have understood the concepts of "started", "squatted", "nuzzled", "bawling" or "all wet." More so, the concept of "one" as mentioned in the second paragraph of "one hand" and "one of the birds" or the concept of time as in "then they played in the branch," or of distance as in "he was by himself further down the branch." It would seem to me that comprehending "then" and "further" is inconsistent with Benjy’s concept of something being out of sight as "away" or his frequent description of change as something "stopped."
The stream of consciousness in Quentin’s section, which I will post on in a bit, is even more disbelievable to me. While Benjy’s thought process is scattered between memories that go back and forth in time periods–and this I can easily accept–Quentin’s is even more random. I’ve tried to relate to the half-sentences and broken thoughts, and maybe this is impossible to determine as a pattern that may be as individual as individuals come, but for an educated man, Quentin’s structured process appears even more troubled than Benjy’s.
Again, maybe this is a personal thing; in the back of my mind I’m considering my own tendency to write out a paragraph of story complete with action, imagery, proper grammar, etc. versus the more common method of seeking the words to suit the idea of story. (I’ve posted on this before.)
I’m ashamed to admit that I sought help along with the reading, and even worse–I’ve joined Oprah’s Book Club to gain some insight from the guidance there (as well as on more literary critique and research sites). But Faulkner does have me fascinated. He has me angry and frustrated but yes, fascinated too.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
The title’s source, from MacBeth, I think is significant in that I think Faulkner was saying something with his – excellent – choice (and it may be relevant to your thoughts):
It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury;
Signifying nothing.
Yes; while it can be easily related to Benjy’s frustration and way of thinking, it can also, I think–from reading well into Quentin’s thoughts–be a statement on the emotional turmoil of this family and how they each cope with life and with each other.
“for an educated man, Quentin’s structured process appears even more troubled than Benjy’s”
There is a reason for this–Faulkner is very intentional in the way things are laid out.
Re. Benjy’s “unbelievable language”: I’ve always thought “stream-of-consciousness” had more to do with the internal thought impressions of the character than the literal language they would use in thinking these thoughts. In other words, the writer is channeling a character’s perceptions and impressions through the medium of words the reader can understand. So, for example, Benjy has an impression/perception of “bawling” (its essence, in a way), but might not have that word in his vocabulary. Yet to let the reader in on what’s going on in his mind, the writer chooses the language most suited to giving the reader the same impression/perception.
Am I making any sense? Again, this is just my take on it (learned mainly through reading Virginia Woolf).
Yes, you are making sense. I had considered this, and it may be the answer: Readability. Just as in movies where the Germans speak with English with a German accent, the reader/listener must understand what’s going on or would be lost if he didn’t know the German language.
Benjy’s level of comprehension, while it seemed mixed, is fairly clear in his descriptons of events and his reactions to them. Without the interim sentence structure of the action events, we would be as lost in time as he is.
With Quentin’s section, his mind is obviously in a jumble, and I can see the thoughts coming at him in dribs and drabs like knife wounds between his otherwise orderly patterned day. We don’t know the decision he has made but only guess by his actions where these final (we find) thoughts have been leading.
Woolf is one on my classics list, for sure. Can’t believe how many I haven’t read but surely must!