Final Chapter

What is this? Coherency? How novel, and quite wonderful I must say.  The final chapter is finally completely and utterly logical.  No stream of concience, no lack of punctuation, no lack of time.
It doesn't tie things off in a neat bow (that is clearly no Faulkner's style, have you seen the rest of the book?) but there is a raw sense of resolution.  Quentin's departure, or perhaps more acurately her escape, symbolizes the total collapse of the Compson family.  Quentin, like her mother, represents the new south, the changing world the Compson's are living in, and she's left her family and their antiquated ways behind, for better or worse.  Jason's attempt to find her is hilariously thwarted, and I think we can all say we gave a smug smile when his headache grew so awful that he had to pay someone to drive him home.
But we never see Caddy.  We pine after her throughout the book and wish we knew how she was, what she's done with herself, but it doesn't really happen.  Sure, it's implied through Jason's dealings with her that she's doing all right, but I want to really know.  And at the same time, we don't need to, becasue we know enough.
Faulkner put everything together in a subtle way, each chapter revealing less of the facts and more of the themes.  Benji offered no opinion of the events taking place, only relaying them.  Quentin wass still commenting on what was happening, but his personal views were also being shown, and his opinions of his family members lent insights to their characters previously unseen.  Jason hardly cared what was going on, it was all merely a tool for him to impose his will and opinion on the world with.  And now we see Dilsey, but we see it all too.  The third person narrative Faulkner utilizes takes a step back from everything that's happened.  The individual events are knit together to form a big piece, the individual opinions flow together to offer a more complete view of the characters.  Thing's don't change per say, but they certainly make more sense.
 

Jason

Jason is one of the more despicable human beings I've ever encountered, literature or otherwise.  He seems to take a perverse joy in being difficult and rude at every opportunity.  I think there's some resentment going on as well.  The family sold some of their property to send Quentin off to Harvard, which ended up being a bust with the whole suicide incident.  Caroline claims Jason is her favorite child, yet the family didn't go to any great lengths to further his life and career like they did with Quentin.  Sure, Jason says he wouldn't want to go anyway, but come on, even if the experience at school itself was awful, Jason's so concerned about image that having the bragging rights of being a Harvard graduate would be enough for him.  

He hates Quentin, both of them, one for getting what he never did I think and the other for existing quite simply, and the money that is required to care for her, which is ironic because Jason's been stealing more than enough money through Caddy's checks to make up for that deficit.  But of course he's also been gambling in the stock market, complaining all the while.  That's another thing, despite all his big words, Jason is not a man of action.  He threatens to beat Quentin, but never does, likewise he moans about the money he pays the telegraph office for market advice, writing it off as useless and a waste of money, but continues to pay them.  And then there's also his horrible work ethic and behavior-he clearly hates his job, but he won't quit, he just keeps trying to goad Earl into firing him, so far to no avail.

All in all, Jason's a grump, but lacks a spine.

Quentin

So, Quentin.  He's something.  His casual foray into madness is quite unnerving to watch. Initially he's fine and dandy, or so it seems, until it becomes apparent that watching Caddy's life fall apart has done a number on him.  Where Benji failed to specify or even comprehend time, Quentin becomes unable to specify viewpoint.  He slips in and out of memories as Benji had done, but Quentin narrates through other characters using the first person tense, talking in the "I" but not always narrating as himself.  Tad bit confusing.  You know, just a little.

But thats ok becasue there are a bunch of other things to confuse oneself with instead!  

For example, Quentin.  He's just one big ball of confusing.  Faulkner did a birlliant job of describing his gradual slide into madness, so much so that even as you're repulsed by Quentin's thoughts, they make complete sense in some twisted way.  Qunetin's failed suicide pact with Caddy is one such example.  There's a sense of horror as Quentin contemplates killing his sister to free her, and his family, from the decisions she's made, but at the same time, there's maybe a little logic in there.  Or at least, that little crack where reason could potentially fit is visible to the reader.

Quentin's obsessed with Caddy  He wants to save her, is desparate to do so, but he can't.  He can't handle this "can't". 

So now he's going to kill himself.  It's the logical next step really.  Well, not really, but Quentin's been losing his grip on everything for a while.  His family, and world, is falling appart, and his desparate focus on these events have only made the situation worse in his head, to the point of no return.  

Becasue it's aparent in Benji's chapter that Qunetin had died, it becomes easy to realize how he does so as his mental deterioration becomes more and more obvious.  The weights he buys, the sickeningly calm demeanor, Quentin's ever preset obsession with time even as he throws it aside as useless; when it becomes clear what exactly is going on it's too late.  Not just for Quentin either; it would appear the entire Compson family is spiraling.

Benji

So far, the gaping chasm that was supposed to be The Sound and the Fury has actually been more of a small ditch.  Perhaps it's just the way I think, but I didn't find Benji's chapter all that confusing.  His narration is crystal clear; Faulkner created Benji's view of the world to be simple, but he doesn't miss much in terms of details. Benji doesn't make inferences based on what he sees though, he doesn't know how to.

So we get to do it.  Benji has laid the background for the story, the fluidity with which he experiences different memories is at times confusing, but it allows Faulkner to jump around in time without raising eyebrows.  He can also jump right in.  Benji narrates things as he experiences them, but he doesn't give context.  People and animals have names, they do this and that, but they have no background, he doesn't give them a place within the story.  That's for us to figure out.  By the time Benji's narration is done we've more or less worked through who everyone is, and Faulkner doesn't have to use another character's more competent narration to do so.

Caddy is Benji's everything.  Personally, I don't like many of the other characters.  His mother is pompous and spineless.  Luster's obvious dislike and feelings of superiority towards Benji make him equally detestable.  Jason is, as a certain english teacher so eloquently stated, an asshole.  Caddy is the only true family Benji has.  It is only natural that in his mind, where time is not applicable, memories tie back to her again and again.

Why Hello There Mr. Faulkner

So here I stand, on the edge of a potentially catostrophic novel, if the ominous rumblings coming from the general direction of a certain English teacher are to be headed.  But before I can moan and groan about the book, I must first inquire about, and give myself the opportunity to moan at, it's author.  He's actually not a terribly boring guy though.
 I find it incredibly amusing that William Faulkner's name is spelled the way it is because somehwere down the line someone messed up the spelling (we're looking at you Canada). I must admit, however, that Faulkner looks much schnazzier than Falkner.  And while we're on the topic of schnazzy words: Yoknapatawpha.  It's long enough, and complicated enough that I feel attempting to say it out loud would quite literally cause me to trip and fall.  Complicated pronunciation aside though, I thought it was not only very nifty, but quite a display of focus and dedication for Faulkner to create his own county.  It's almost like a very complex game of sims, but cooler.
Faulkner's home life wasn't bland either.  He's quite a lucky guy to get the girl of his dreams after she married another man (that story's got a wonderful little moral about taking serious things seriously).  That's a scene straight out of movie.