Sunday, April 13, 2014

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.
 

Sunday, April 6, 2014

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.