Wednesday, August 25, 2004

Whee

This isn't too well done, but I have it. . .

I'm posting it here mainly so I can print it out if I have to when I go to school tomorrow.
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I'll also be editing this post and adding another paper I have to write for this book.

And I'm still not done with the book, completely, yet, either - I still have 50 pages. But I think I'm close enough - I've read 200 pages in two days, of this book, which has to be an accomplishment.

Well, maybe you don't think it's an accomplishment, but you try to read The Sound and the Fury and you'll see what a trying, hard book it is to read.

But yet at the same time, it's worth it to read it, too.

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The Sound and the Fury is a very trying book, at least at first. The first chapter of it is narrated by Benjy, who is mentally disabled.

Benjy has no sense of time. Because of this, his narration makes little to no sense and has no chronological order to it.

The main problem was I approached this book like any other book in the beginning. I assumed it would follow some type of chronological order, but this was not the case.

Instead, I have Benjy, and his narration.

Reading that part of the book was very trying, and took a lot of patience. Half the time I didn't even know what I was reading, since Benjy would flashback so often.

Despite this, looking at, I think the way Benjy's perspective was written was rather innovative on Faulkner's part. When you think about it, this is how someone like Benjy would write.

By reading the way Faulkner chose to write as Benjy, we get to see just how hard it is to be Benjy. Just how confusing. Just how much his life is sound and emotion, and memory.

It's very hard to decipher all that Benjy says. . .he jumps around way too much. It would take thorough re-readings of that section of the book to gain a full and complete understanding of it.

Faulkner's choice to do Benjy's narration first, I think, hurts this novel, at least to your common readers. The way it is written is definitely a big turn-off, and is hard to read. But at the same time, it's so different from anything else you've probably read before, which gives it something of a fresh feeling to it. But it still hurts the novel. As much good as the way it's written is, it's also bad, too.

Faulkner could've easily put Jason's narration first, or Quentin's, if he wanted. I think if he had made that choice, it would have made the transition into Benjy's narration a bit easier on the reader, at least.

On the other hand, getting the hardest thing to read out of the way at first is also good.

The second section of the book is narrated by Quentin, who isn't to be confused with the other Quentin in the book, who is Caddy's daughter.

I liked this section of the book very much. Here, we're still given bursts of flashbacks, with italics to show them coming on, but we're also given some straight-up narration in chronological order.

Some of this section is to be likened with Benjy's, in that it's so abstract and hard to decipher, it's hard to make sense of what you're even reading, and takes a lot of work to keep up at. But, there is the straight-up narration, intermixed with that free-flow of thoughts.

At the point in this section where Faulkner doesn't even use punctuation at all, and spaces--like they're stanzas-- it's almost like a poem, I thought. The way it was written was also pretty poetic. I liked it. It gave you a good sense of what a human psyche would be like. . .a conglomeration of both reality and fantasy. Of abstract and tangible.

Towards the end of Quentin's section, it got harder and harder to know what was going on. Especially that one last big paragraph--it was all just one continuing sentence. You really got lost in all those words strung together, trying to make sense of them but in vain.

The third section is the most straightforward of the first person narratives. It is done by Jason.

I enjoyed the way this was written as well. I thought Jason is a lot like me. He's cynical, and sarcastic.

Most of this section was narration, but there was a little bit of flashbacks. But this was much, much easier to read than the other two sections.

It was a nice breath of fresh air after sloughing through the two prior sections.

The fourth, and final, section was a third person, omniscent perspective. It's all narration and easily the the most understandbly written part of the novel. I enjoyed it as well. It shows me Faulkner really was something of a genius.

I did like this book, despite its difficulties. It was painful to read at times, and other times it just clicked into place. What I liked the most, though, was how unconventional the book is. Faulkner's known for how experimental he was as a writer, and this book is a testament to that.

I read somewhere that Faulkner called this book a failure, but a good one.

I'd have to agree: sometimes our failures are our greatest achievements.

---

Just having fun here. I laughed my ass off.

---

A classic. You know, I've never known too many things that're "classic." I mean, there's many different types of "classic" - there's classic moments, classic times, classic clothes, classic people, classic this and that and this and that, until your head just feels about like it's going to fall off.

And then, of course, there's classic books!

What makes a classic book? No one knows, and everyone has a different opinion to it.

What is a classic book, a specific book that's classic? No one knows, and everyone has a different opinion to it.

I mean, what is classic? What defines classic? What breathes classic? What emanates classic?

The answer? I don't really know, actually. But I've been forced to write this paper on a book that's apparently considered classic by all and everyone (my new English teacher, that is). So here I am, typing away quick. Fast.

Okay, so let's start this off right, shall we?

Hello, my name is Mitchell Grant Smith, and I have aspirations to be a writer when I grow up. Well, maybe - I don't really know. And I'm here to give you a literary analysis (whatever that is) of the "classic" book by none other than William Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury.

So what is this book? And what's so great about it? What's so classic about it?

Well well, gather round, ye children, and I shall tell. . .as best as I can. . .about this book. . .it will be as if we are around a fire, telling secrets which are slander and cannot be uttered again! Shhh! Quiet! Let me speak, now.

The reason this book is considered classic is because it's a masterpiece of innovation. How, you say, mouth agape, wondering eyes like doors? Well, how, well, you see, Faulkner uses a form of writing dubbed "Stream of consciousness writing," which involves writing down a character's thoughts as they come, often creating sentences which don't make too damn much sense, and are hard to get sense out of.

You sort of have to beat up the words to get the sense out of them. Sort of put on your boxing glove, and wham! hit 'em where it hurts. And in this case, your boxing glove is your brain.

Yes, this book showcases one of the most hardest-to-read narratives in literary history. . .the dreadful terror that is. . ."BENJY'S SECTION," as I've come to call it. This, being the first section (chapter, part, whatever) of the book, is written by an idiot, in first person.

Yes, that's right, you heard me. An idiot.

But "idiot" is a rather derrogatory word, isn't it? I know, I know, tone it down, Mitch. . .I will, I will. Okay, we'll say he's "mentally disadvantaged." Well, anyway, this "mentally disadvantaged" thirty-three-year-old, Benjy, narrates it. He talks about many things, blabbering on and on and on until you feel you're in hell, in excruciating pain. Well, not really, but at the same time you do.

You see, Benjy's the sort of chap that because he's "mentally disadvantaged," has no sense of right, or wrong - no sense of time or place - no sense that things change. He just doesn't know. He doesn't have enough capacity to know. It's the way he was made, by God (if you believe in him), or the way his genes got messed with to cause him to be messed up. Whatever you blame, Benjy's what he is. "Mentally disadvantaged."

Therefore (what a pompous word), when, and above all if, you read this book, prepare to have no sense of time - of right or wrong -prepare to hear things from Benjy. That's just the way it's written. And let me tell you, it's not easy to read.

I read it, and I didn't get too much from it - it's just how it goes.

Benjy's narrative takes place during only one day, but things which happen during that day cue his memories - and it takes him to the past. Usually, Mr. Faulkner uses italics to show the interjection of a flashback, but even so, it's hard as all hell to know what's even going on half the time, unless you read into it, and you use your head and break it open, and beat and bruise and bloody those words - and that isn't easy.

That means you'll have to read through "BENJY'S SECTION" many times if you care to know everything that there is to get there, sadly. I know, I know, reading blows in all its entirety, and having to read the same goddamned thing is like asking for you to hold a gun to your head and watch as time goes by, tick tock tick tick tick Tock Tick TOCK TICK TICK TOCK. But you have to do it, in my case, since you have to do this "literary analysis" thing.

Well, I didn't read through it but two times - but I got a better idea of what's going on, at least.

For all the pain of reading this first part of the book, it's worth it. At times, as imperfect and uneven as it is to read, it really gets to being worth it, I guess. . . well not really. . .well yes. Hell, I don't know. All I know is it was good when it was good, I guess - that's my "literary analysis" of it.

Thankfully, the next three chapters of the book are easier on the old noggin, so you can sit back, relax, take a shower, do the hair - whatever - and continue on reading without having to get your brain into the mess and dirty too much.

Still, that "too much" is a lot more than you'd think.

The next chapter is narrated by Quentin, a twenty-something going to college at Harvard. His narration is also strewn with "stream of consciousness" writing, to your erogenous displeasure. I know, I know, and I'm sorry.

But all in all, this chapter's much more even, since it's not all just "stream of consciousness" writing - but rather has some narration that is chronological.

At one point in it, even, it resembles poetry, pure and simple - Mr. Faulkner uses stanza-like structures to tell the story, which is interesting and worked for me, at least. Good stuff.

But at other times, the "stream of consciousness" gets a little too streaming. To the point where you aren't even able to associate the words together you're reading to form a sentence which makes sense, and you keep reading anyway, hearing the words but not putting them into context, since you don't really have any idea what the context is - since you don't really know what you're reading really means.

Near the end of the chapter, there's this part where there's this big paragraph of just words, end after end of them, connected together - not even really making a sentence, just an entire ocean of words, floating there not really hooking up.

It's enough to make you shut the book.

But me, I had to read the book, so I didn't shut it, and I tried to decipher it - but ot no avail. Not much avail, anyway.

Will someone give me an award, or money? Money would be good. This was sort of like torture, you know. Pure and simple, it was torture.

The next chapter's even easier. It's narrated by Jason, a thirty-something cynic. There's very little "stream of consciousness" writing here, and it's all narration.

And the last chapter? It's written in third person. I guess old Faulkner wanted to become a God or something, be omniscient and omnipotent and all, so he decided to do it third person.

So what makes this book classic, to me at least? Like I said, just how different it is, in the way it's written. To me, it probably pushed the envelope during its time - the 1920's. I mean, it's so unconvential, the way he wrote it, and the risks he took.

I think that makes anything classic. Well, I hope so, because that's what makes this book classic for me.

Want some other reasons why it's classic? Well, Faulkner needs to be given merit for his storytelling abilities. Because he has them.

The characters have depth in this book - they feel alive. And the reason why is because each different narrator has a distinct different in the words they use and how they write. And also because Faulkner's good at narration, too.

So there you have it. You can stop reading and do whatever you want, as long as you leave me alone! Okay, okay, I didn't really mean that. . .but if you excuse me, I have a life and things to do.
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