Ferocia and desolation, a total lack of hope for both victims and executioners: this is The Hamlet, a collective novel, constructed around episodes dedicated to different characters, but all traceable to The Frenchman's Bend, a territory of the county as fictional as it is true in the aspects of the deep American South of Yoknapatawpha.

The Civil War is over, but the aftermath it has left is alive and deep in all the inhabitants of The Bend, who live a life of hardship and desolation, content with the misery granted by desolate rented lands. In this context, the Snopes family arrives, a family hungry for arrivism, money, land, and fecundity, driven by resentment and the desire for redemption at any cost. In a world of men tired of living and fighting, the Snopes have no trouble seizing many of the lands of The Bend, also taking control of the school, the shop, the blacksmith's shop, stables, and the little else present. It is Flem who leads the family, driven by a kind of thirst for revenge for his father, cheated by a shrewd horse trader; Flem is not stopped in any way, he simply acts, contrary to all the other inhabitants of The Bend, even Will Varner, the old master of all The Bend, the father-master of the old declining South: Will does nothing to stop Flem's expansionist aims, he surrenders, a symbol of an old, completely defenseless world.

Around The Bend, other characters and figures follow one another, telling of a territory and a mentality already in ruins, defeated. There is Eula, Will Varner's daughter, who already as a teenager seems to drive men crazy, but who becomes only what everyone believes she is: a not very bright girl, good only for getting married early after getting pregnant; there is the idiot Isaac, who loves a cow and who can "be cured" only if its blood is shed in sacrifice; there are many characters of the Snopes family, including a murderer; there is Henry Armstid, a stupid and poor farmer capable of being deceived twice by Snopes only because he is firmly convinced that he must and can get rich; there is also his wife, who in the scenes where she is present initially tries to stop her husband to prevent him from throwing away the few dollars earned, but who soon gives up, remaining defenseless, on the sidelines, sadly accepting all the absurd choices of her husband; there is Mrs. Littlejohn, the owner of a boarding house, one of the few positive female figures, who shows a bit of strength and self-esteem, but also compassion and empathy; there is Ratliff, a friend of the Varners, an itinerant sewing machine merchant, who brings a moral voice to this morally eroding village, represents the only one who seems to clearly see how the story will go with the Snopes, the only one who seems able to oppose a minimum of resistance, but who will also fall into Flem's deceptions: convinced of the presence of an old treasure in a ruined house, he will sell everything he has in order to try to find the buried money, without understanding, except at the end, that he has been deceived just like all the others.

The novel ends with Flem's departure from The Bend. After gathering all the money he could by cheating, Flem leaves just as he arrived. There is no salvation in any case, only a long, slow, suffocating, arduous, and eventful survival.

So far, I have come to understand that when an author desires to immerse himself in writing out his world-view and his personal perspective on the universal order of things, it is advisable to incorporate that view into the narrative in concise and manageable increments.

Moreover, for any intellectual prose to achieve success, the writer must present his work in such a way that it exceeds the lofty heights of his vision. This ensures that the tangential musings of the omniscient narrator do not divert the reader's attention or give the impression of being pedantic and vain.

The remarkable aspect of Faulkner is that he has mastered this technique and employs it with great efficacy. The combination of prose and rhetoric is virtually his trademark. Although at times his technique stumbles and the author's intellect intrudes upon the story, like an unwelcome cameo. Consider this sentence, for example: "When he moved toward her, she whirled and ran at the vain and shifting sand as though in a blind paroxysm of shame, to escape not him alone but the very scene of the outragement of privacy where she had been sprung suddenly upon and without warning from the dark and betrayed and outraged by her own treacherous biological inheritance..." Clearly, this is Mr. Faulkner inserting his thoughts into a chase scene. However, the quality of his commentary, the vivid portrayal of the world, and the intricate web of language he weaves make these brief intrusions by the author forgivable. I am eagerly anticipating the next two volumes of the Snopes Trilogy.

Oh, it is truly so good.

The language employed is incredibly gorgeous, and the subtext is resounding.

It is advisable to turn to the classics to peruse a truly remarkable book.

In this generation, what else, perhaps aside from Don DeLillo and David Foster Wallace, could possibly compare?

These two authors have made significant contributions to the literary world with their unique writing styles and profound insights.

Don DeLillo's works often explore complex themes such as globalization, media, and the human condition.

His language is precise and evocative, drawing readers into a world that is both familiar and strange.

David Foster Wallace, on the other hand, is known for his experimental prose and his ability to capture the nuances of modern life.

His works are often humorous and tragic at the same time, leaving readers with a sense of both wonder and despair.

Together, these two authors represent the best of contemporary literature and serve as an inspiration for future generations of writers.

This was my first encounter with Faulkner, and my goodness, what an amazing writer he is.

The book did have its sluggish moments, and there were instances when the reading process seemed like a tiresome struggle. However, the prose throughout was truly remarkable.

Each sentence was crafted with such precision and beauty that it was a joy to behold. And the ending, it felt like the most perfect artistic touch to conclude the book.

It tied up all the loose ends in a way that was both satisfying and thought-provoking. This is undoubtedly a classic, and I can't wait to explore more of Faulkner's works.

I'm sure there are many more literary treasures waiting for me to discover within his pages.

"Το Χωριουδάκι", εκδόσεις Δελφίνι.

This book, published by Δελφίνι, is titled "Το Χωριουδάκι".

It is perhaps the weakest among the books of my beloved Faulkner. However, it still remains an interesting and significant literary work.

It serves as an introduction to the trilogy of the Snopeses.

Despite its relative shortcomings compared to some of Faulkner's other masterpieces, "Το Χωριουδάκι" offers valuable insights into the complex world and characters that Faulkner created.

The story likely delves into the themes and motifs that are characteristic of Faulkner's writing, such as family, honor, and the South.

Readers can expect to encounter richly developed characters and a narrative that unfolds in a unique and engaging way.

Overall, while it may not be Faulkner's most outstanding work, "Το Χωριουδάκι" is still worthy of attention and study for those interested in his literary oeuvre.

Aaarghh! I have just completed the second section, which is about Eula.

That section concludes with that rather strange Flem Snopes / devil / soul scene. Huh? I really need a Cliff's Notes for this.

Does anyone happen to have one? It's so confusing and I'm having a hard time understanding the significance of that particular scene.

I'm sure there's some deeper meaning hidden within it, but I just can't seem to grasp it on my own.

Maybe someone out there can shed some light on this for me and help me make sense of what's going on.

I'm hoping that with a little bit of guidance, I'll be able to better understand the story and all of its complex elements.

I have a profound love for Faulkner's remarkable ability to tell a story. His narratives are like intricate webs, skillfully weaving together various elements to create a captivating and immersive experience.

It was during my early teenage years that I purchased my first book with my own hard-earned money, and that book was a work by Faulkner.

From the moment I opened its pages, I was instantly drawn into his world. The vivid descriptions, the complex characters, and the engaging plotlines all combined to make it an unforgettable read.

Faulkner's writing style is truly unique, and it has had a lasting impact on my literary tastes. To this day, I continue to be inspired by his work and the way he brings stories to life.

I am forever grateful for that first encounter with Faulkner's writing, as it set me on a path of discovery and a lifelong love for literature.

In his initial literary work centered around the Snopes family, Faulkner masterfully weaves a captivating saga. It is the tale of a destitute farming family that relocates to Frenchman’s Bend.

Primarily recounted from the viewpoint of the townspeople, "The Hamlet" vividly depicts the treatment of outsiders in the rural South. Here, the traditional and interdependent in-group constructs a menacing image of those who are not native to the area.

Vice versa, the book also narrates the story of how a single family throws a small town into chaos. Flem Snopes manages to insinuate himself into a position of authority and then exploits that power to expand his family's influence throughout the town.

Both grisly and sarcastic, Faulkner leads his reader on yet another Yoknapatawpha epic. It is a journey that leaves you with a queasy feeling in your stomach and your mouth agape in astonishment.

It's been an awfully long time since I last delved into Faulkner's thick and intricate slabs of prose. However, during a recent trip to Georgia, I made the decision that it was high time to once again return to the fictional Yoknapatawpha County. This particular book is the first of a trilogy about the Snopes family and it introduces Flem Snopes to the reader.

The initial part of the novel might seem somewhat familiar as it is derived from one of Faulkner's short stories, "Barn Burning", which many of us were required to read during our school days.

I truly have no clue as to how much Faulkner is read outside of the compulsory assignments for school. Nevertheless, I would wholeheartedly recommend him to anyone who is willing to approach his works with an open and relaxed mind, free from the academic pressures that are typically associated with his novels. Just shift your gears and let the book do the arduous work.

This particular installment features a rather interesting horse-trade that involves paint and a bicycle pump. There's also a teenage seductress who appears to be completely oblivious to the spell she casts on the schoolmaster, even as she catches him sniffing around her bench. Additionally, there's bovine love, a murder, brothers who quarrel over the spoils of said murder, a wily Texan and his wild ponies, a buried treasure beneath the ruins of a decayed mansion, and the inevitable takeover of a small town by a single family.

I remember reading a Joyce Carol Oates essay that casually mentioned Faulkner's "misogyny." At that time, I was an undergraduate, and I recall being surprised because having just read The Hamlet, I thought of Faulkner as more of a misanthrope. So, when I recently reread The Hamlet and the other two novels in The Snopes Trilogy, I made an effort to pay attention to Faulkner's tone regarding women. I discovered that not only does Faulkner sympathize with the senseless brutality that women endure at the hands of patriarchy, but the arc of the trilogy's epic plot suggests a justice far more liberal than what the courts provided for women throughout the first half of the 20th century when these novels are set.

In The Hamlet “Book One—Flem,” Faulkner introduces us to the people of Frenchman’s Bend in Yoknapatawpha County. He seems intrigued by violence as a means of survival. Racism is, as usual, ingrained in Frenchman’s Bend society, which distinguishes between the local “negroes” who are welcome and “strange negroes” who do not dare to approach the village after dark. Flem Snopes' willingness to lend money to African-Americans (on deceptively impossible terms) allows him to begin his rise from poverty. Another source of his wealth is collecting interest on the small inheritance of Issac Snopes, his mentally retarded cousin.

Without delving too deeply into how Flem develops as a character during the trilogy, his transformation from Ab Snopes’ loyal son in Faulkner’s classic short story “Barn Burning” to the clerk of the store in Frenchman’s Bend is a rewarding aspect of reading the first novel. The backstory of Ab’s downfall at the hands of horse trader Pat Stamper is embedded in Flem’s ascent. Here, Faulkner verges on the tall tale while also establishing the range of tone needed for The Hamlet’s wickedly hilarious “Book Four—The Peasants,” the classic “Wild Ponies” story.

Perhaps what Oates was referring to was the long-suffering of the women. Certainly, Ab’s wife Vynie is one of them. At least she has a name, unlike the wives of Mink Snopes or Henry Armstid, abused women known only as the “missus” of their respective abusers. But is having a first name really a blessing? Eula Varner, on whom Book Two focuses, is nearly a cipher. She scarcely speaks, but when she does, her dialogue is worth listening to.

Eula’s father, Will Varner, runs Frenchman’s Bend. When Flem starts to encroach on the Varner monopoly by bringing in his relatives—a technique called “Snopesism”—we should ask, “How is Varnerism any better?”

The term Snopesism is coined by V.K. Ratliff, a traveling sewing machine salesman who knows the people of Yoknapatawpha County but is not one of them. Ratliff’s outsider perspective adds to the tension in passages featuring him. Again, without revealing too much, the arc of Ratliff through the trilogy is one of its subtle pleasures. If horse trading draws from the tall tale, Ratliff’s allegorical vision of Will Varner as the Prince of Darkness might be the second harshest judgment in the trilogy.

Perhaps Oates gets Faulkner’s misogyny from the word “enemy” in Ratliff’s description of Eula: “from behind [her face] there looked out only another enemy of the masculine race.” However, this statement cannot be taken at face value. First, it is important to attribute it to Ratliff, not Faulkner, and second, to note that Ratliff misperceives things as he gets involved with Flem and later changes his characterization of Eula.

In “Book Three—The Long Summer,” Faulkner introduces the other Snopes of Snopesism: Lump, Issac, Mink, Eck, I.O., and others. These Snopes will often be at odds with the established residents of Frenchman’s Bend. It is here that Ratliff seems to express a theme that persists throughout the trilogy (if not most of Faulkner’s writing): misanthropy.

So, what are we to make of all this “misogyny” or “misanthropy”? Near the end of The Hamlet, Ratliff seems to want to look beyond people, something Faulkner also expressed in comments at various public readings. Ratliff says, “I was protecting something that wasn’t even a people, that wasn’t nothing but something that don’t want nothing but to walk and feel the sun and wouldn’t know how to hurt no man even if it would and wouldn’t even if it could, just like I wouldn’t stand by and see you steal a meat-bone from a dog. I never made them Snopeses and I never made the folks that can’t wait to bare their backsides to them.” So, what would Ratliff protect? Perhaps he is referring, as Faulkner did, to an individual who is happy walking and feeling the sun; an individual, not a people.

I know of no way to answer the question of misogyny in The Hamlet (or the Snopes Trilogy) without raising the issue of matrilineal reality versus patriarchal delusion. The issue of Snopes blood is raised concerning Eck Snopes, whose decency seems to suggest that he was fathered by someone other than a Snopes. Later, Eustace Grimm’s role in Frenchman’s lost treasure will show that Snopesism can be passed down along the matrilineal line as well.

Given the character of Linda Kohl—Eula’s daughter—as she develops in the trilogy, patriarchy seems to be pitted against matriarchy even in The Hamlet. Consider this scene of Flem & Eula’s departure from Frenchman’s Bend: “Mrs. Varner took the child from her and they watched [Eula] sweep the skirts inward into one hand with the gesture immemorial and female and troubling, and climb the wheel to the seat where Snopes already sat with the reins, and lean down and take the child from Mrs. Varner.”

But while Snopesism appears to involve exploiting one’s family for personal gain, the overall arc of Linda Kohl through the trilogy seems to be about something less than the clan but more than the individual.

Page citations come from The Hamlet. New York: Random House, 1964 (Third Edition).

The plotting is not flawless (as is, e.g., Absalom).

However, the writing is often so brilliant that it compensates for the minor flaws in the plot. The characterizations are not only rich but also profound, adding depth and dimension to the story.

Faulkner's use of somewhat gothic conceits and sometimes excessive Naturalism may seem off-putting to some readers, but it is precisely these elements that give his works their unique charm and power.

Despite its imperfections, the novel is a masterful work of literature that showcases Faulkner's extraordinary talent as a writer. It is a must-read for anyone interested in exploring the human condition and the power of language.

Ranked below Light because Lena is cooler than Eula. This statement presents an interesting comparison between different characters. Light is often regarded as a significant figure, but in this context, Lena is considered cooler than Eula. The concept of "coolness" can be subjective and may involve various aspects such as personality, style, or abilities. Lena might possess certain qualities or characteristics that make her stand out and be perceived as cooler than Eula. It could be her unique charm, her confident demeanor, or her remarkable skills. On the other hand, Eula may have her own set of appealing traits, but for some reason, Lena takes the lead in the coolness factor. This ranking below Light also implies that Lena and Eula are in some sort of competition or hierarchy. However, it's important to note that everyone has their own individual魅力 and value, and being ranked doesn't necessarily mean one is inferior or superior to the other. Each character has the potential to shine in their own way and be appreciated by different people.