That feeling when you close a book is truly indescribable.

It's as if all the life and breath within the story are suddenly cut off, leaving you in a vacuum.

When you try to describe the book, you might find that all the adjectives that come to mind are negative, and yet, the story holds an undeniable power that you can't help but love, just like life itself.

After finishing a great novel, you might not be sure what to read next.

Whatever you pick will carry some of the flavors of the sorrow, hopelessness, sadness, and the excruciatingly unfair black comedy of uneducated, poor, religious life that you just experienced in the previous book.

The novel has a way of spilling over into real life, making you hear your heart beating for characters who may not even exist, but who seem more real than many of your actual neighbors.

You share a feeling with the main character, not sure where the thin line between sanity and insanity is drawn, and whether it's up to the beholder to make a final decision.

As the words in the novel remind us, "Sometimes I aint so sho who's got ere a right to say when a man is crazy and when he aint. Sometimes I think it aint none of us pure crazy and aint none of us pure sane until the balance of us talks him that-a-way. It's like it aint so much what a fellow does, but it's the way the majority of folks is looking at him when he does it."

This is reminiscent of Emily Dickinson's beautiful poem on madness, which further explores the blurred lines between sense and madness.

I absolutely LOVED this novel, even though it made my stomach turn.

I don't know what the majority of readers would make of this polyphonic Job's journey or Greek tragic odyssey through a fictional Southern landscape, but I figure I'm mad in the Dickinson or Faulkner way.

The voices of the Bundren family, although each one alone may seem random, mad, and disoriented, together hold so much truth.

The underlying social issues, such as the hopelessness and lack of choice faced by the poor and uneducated in the rural South, are not explicitly stated as in Steinbeck's novels, but rather hinted at through the confused unawareness of those living that life.

Religion hovers over their heads, serving as both a stick and a carrot, with Christian doctrines remaining mysterious to the characters.

Their mother's burial in her hometown exposes the siblings to extreme situations that will mark some of them forever, forcing them to balance on the thin line between madness and sanity.

I will always hear their voices and remember that I too walk on that line.

To the cast of the play, a huge thank you for letting me join you on this stormy ride.

Vardaman, there's no shame in having a fish for a mother!

Cash, you are a mighty fine man, a voice of care and reason.

Darl, I understand you, that line is indeed mighty thin, especially in times of hardship.

Dewey Dell, you have the future on your side, and your daughters and granddaughters will have more rights and less vulnerability.

Jewel, there is power beneath your confusion if you can only get it sorted.

Anse, being headless amounts to child abuse!

Addie, your story is universal.

And of course, the Christians and gods, the usual cast.

I'm no copyright lawyer, but it seems like Faulkner's estate could have sued the hell out of the makers of National Lampoon's Vacation. There is the obvious corpse-carting similarity, and I can almost hear the familiar refrain of Lindsey Buckingham's "Holiday Road" bleed into the scene of the Bundren's fateful river crossing. (Pre)DMCA violations were definitely afoot, at least in spirit.

This is the book for those who find Faulkner's other well-known works to be intimidating. As I Lay Dying offers all of the point of view shifts and modernist goodness of The Sound and the Fury and Absalom, Absalom, but in more palatable, bite-sized chunks. The endless chapters that trap one within the other books, not allowing for natural stopping points within the text for bathroom or laundry breaks, are eschewed in favor of shorter sections. Each section is narrated by a member of the Bundren family or a random, curious onlooker about town. This format also eases the intensity of the typical Faulknerian (I've been waiting to use that term) shift between the action that is occurring and the stream of consciousness interior monologuing that characters in Faulkner novels seem to so enjoy.

The constraints placed on the text make the themes of this book explode with meaning. The sins of the father are visited upon the heads of the children, familial obligation collides with personal agendas, and the immediate sainthood imposed upon those who have passed is examined in a more doubtful light.

Word on the (back cover blurb) street is that Faulkner cranked out this book over a six-week period while working twelve-hour shifts at a power plant. In my mind, this makes him the literary equivalent of that one cheerleader in high school that everyone secretly hated because she seemed so damned perfect.

Let's face it.

I'm not going to be able to offer anything novel to the analysis of this now almost century-old tragicomedy of the Bundren family's journey. They travel from their Yoknapatawpha County, Mississippi farm, by wagon carrying the coffin of matriarch Addie, a distance of 40 miles to Jefferson, so she can be laid to rest.

However, fate has placed me in a position to propose a rather timely and interesting paper topic for any readers who are currently in need of one. This is because I spent a significant amount of time on Monday watching the coverage of the royal family accompanying Queen Elizabeth II's coffin from Westminster Cathedral in London to her final resting place approximately 20 miles away in Windsor.

The opportunities for comparison and contrast are astonishing in their variety. We could explore the cultural and social differences between the two scenarios, the significance of the journey for each family, and the ways in which the public and media reacted. There is so much to consider and analyze, making this a potentially fascinating paper topic.

The first book I read by Faulkner was "A Rose for Emily", which unfortunately I lost half of it and I really want to go back to it! The next book was "As I Lay Dying", which I really like and I have read it twice. In my opinion, it is one of the simplest books by Faulkner in terms of form and style. Of course, the style of the book is like a gushing stream of consciousness, but it is much easier to read, perhaps because of the existence of multiple chapters. The book tells the story in multiple chapters from the perspective of the characters in the story. Amazingly, you can establish a connection with the characters in the story and even like them. Anse is the father of the family, and Addie is the suffering mother who is about to leave the world. Each of them tells the life of this family from their own perspective and how they are going to cross a very mysterious bridge over a river for Addie's funeral, and during which, other currents also come forward. Vardaman, Jewel, and Darl are the children of the family. Vardaman is mentally retarded, and the parts related to him are heartbreaking. Even Cash, one of the sons who builds the coffin, Mrs. Tull, the neighbor, Whitfield, the preacher, and others play a role in the story. The multiplicity of characters is not at all tiring or annoying. The style of the book is a stream of consciousness and it is a novel for which this American writer won the Nobel Prize in Literature and was first published in the United States in 1930. The title of the book is taken from the sixth book of the Odyssey by Homer, in which Agamemnon addresses Odysseus and uses the sentence "As I Lay Dying". I know that because of the simple and unadorned characters, I will go back to this book again.

The original article is not provided, so I can't rewrite and expand it specifically. However, I can give you a general example to show you how to do it.

**Original Article**: The cat is sleeping on the mat. It looks very cute.

**Expanded Article**:

The little cat is peacefully sleeping on the soft mat. Its fur is smooth and shiny, and it lies there motionless, as if in a deep dream. The way it curls up is extremely adorable, making anyone who sees it can't help but smile. Its small nose twitches slightly from time to time, as if it is smelling something in its dream. The overall scene is so charming and heartwarming that it makes people feel a sense of tranquility and happiness.

If you can provide the original article, I will be able to rewrite and expand it according to your specific requirements.

Mia madre è un pesce








This story presents multiple perspectives and thought flows. It shifts from one subject to another, progressing slowly, sometimes through ellipses and suspensions, connections and allusions, with voids or implications that disorient us and require the effort of interpretation or imagination. It is difficult, yes, but at the same time immersive and stimulating.



The plot is quickly told: the events unfold in just a few days from the deathbed of the mother to her burial in her hometown, reached with the wooden coffin loaded on rickety carts, accompanied by her husband (Anse) and their 5 children, unharmed through floods and fires.



In reality, the central theme is the perfect characterization of the members of the Bundren family and their experiences.



Above all, there is the mother Addie, who holds a dark vision of life and is marked by life. Her perspective is at the center of the book. “I remembered my father saying always that the reason for living was to get ready to stay dead a long time.” She tries to reverse her father's statement, seeking action, seeking sin, wanting to feel alive. But she finds empty and dead words and inept, crude, cowardly men. “Then I thought I would kill Anse. It was as if he had tricked me, hidden behind a word like behind a paper screen, and stabbed me in the back through it. But then I realized that I had been tricked by words older than Anse or love and that the same word had tricked Anse too, and that my revenge would be that he would never know I was taking revenge.”



And among the children, there is the strange or eccentric or crazy Darl, as considered by the others in the family and the town, but in reality, he may be the one with the only clear and balanced vision of the world. And together with him, we will have a good laugh in the face of everyone. “Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.”



It is a classic. A masterpiece.

A one-star rating indicates that you have no liking for the book. This particular book is not merely bad; it is truly dreadful.

It is highly confusing. While you may manage to understand the sequence of events, is that really the sole purpose of reading a book, to know exactly what occurs step by step? You are fortunate if you can figure out how all the characters are interconnected. You might need to refer to this link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/As_I_Lay...

The characters are depicted as white trash. Even if you initially make an effort to understand each character's personality, by the end, you will realize that it is not worth your time and effort to do so.

There are a few well-written lines, but they seem completely out of place in the minds or speeches of the characters who are supposed to think or say them.

I thought that the audiobook might be a better option, considering the lack of punctuation. However, there are four narrators, and it is not the case that a particular narrator will always be associated with the same character. Believe me, trying to figure out who is speaking and whose thoughts or words are being expressed is extremely difficult, even with the assistance of different narrators.

So, someone please enlighten me. What is the important message that this book is trying to convey?

I do not recommend this book to anyone. It is a complete waste of time. I have completely given up on Faulkner. I will never read another book by him again.

“All men will be equal, up there, and the Lord will take from those who have and give to those who have not. But it seems to be a long wait.”

The rasp of the saw and a menacing storm mark the inevitable passage of time.

Six Souls await a future reward as they follow the progress of the day.

Three dollars are worth more than a greeting, among hidden tears and an atavistic fear.

A journey, an ordeal of the spirit and the mind.

All divided, but in the end united by the same pain.

Letting myself be carried away into a kaleidoscope of different mental images, one for each character, has been a satisfying experience.

Each character expresses and thinks differently from the others, laying bare will, desires, secrets and hidden fears. Each one faces the pain of loss in a different way, incomprehensible to all the others.

The translator did a good job in capturing such differences.

Philosophy and religion in a tragicomic context, an almost grotesque distillate, without frills and condensed to the essence.

Certainly the protagonists appear as unedifying figures, immersed in ignorance as well as in the mud, but it proves to be a jewel to read and reread to appreciate each facet that, on a first reading, can seem difficult due to the repeated use of ellipses and repetitions.

Aunque la prosa es exquisita, la novela es extremadamente aburrida. No compensa. Sobrevalorada.

The prose within this work may indeed be of an exquisite nature. However, when it comes to the novel as a whole, it falls flat and is extremely boring. There is simply nothing within its pages that can make up for this lack of excitement. It seems to have been overrated, perhaps due to the beauty of its prose alone. But a novel should offer more than just well-crafted language. It should engage the reader, draw them in, and keep them on the edge of their seat. This one fails to do so, leaving the reader feeling disappointed and let down.

Although prose is exquisite, the novel is extremely boring. It does not compensate. Overrated.

Ok, this is the first review on which I’ve ever hit the “spoiler” tab.

But I don’t know how to review this book without spoilers. You know the drill. Stop reading if you’d like.

Holy hell, As I Lay Dying is an amazing book. It took me about thirty pages to get into Faulkner’s unique rhythms.

And, uh, finally figure out that each chapter was narrated by the character titling said chapter. Once I caught onto the cadence, I read the novel in four feverish days, sequestered in one of my second floor’s air conditioned bedrooms.

While I don’t want to read any more Faulkner right now, it’s just too intense one after the other. This novel elicited physical reactions from me that I can’t quite describe.

What do I mean? Well, there were moments while reading this book when, if I were a cartoon character, my mouth would form a big “O” and my jaw would drop to the floor with a crash.

Either the language (“wet seed wild in the hot blind earth”) or some characters’ actions would bring on this reaction.

While I don’t think my wife or kids would care too much, I wanted to grab someone by the shoulders and say, “Holy FUCK! They’re going to do WHAT with that body? You’re shitting me!”

The simple storyline of hauling a dead woman across a county through bad weather while vultures follow becomes absolutely captivating.

I had several questions when I finished.

• What was up with Anse? Why was he such a lazy asshole?

• Was Darl nuts or trying to break out of the family’s dysfunction? Why did he burn down that barn? Was that a sane act, really, despite the fact he’s perceived as insane?

• What was up with Cash and his focus on building the coffin for the first half of the book?

This novel will not comfort you. But some passages and characters haunted me. I loved Addie’s chapter, where she talks about hating all the kids she teaches and embodies the white-knuckle tight tension within the family.

She almost seems proud of the tension, really, or at least wanting to grab the tension and knock some people over the head with it.

There’s a hardness to the Bundrens that goes beyond any southern stereotype. This is deep, human hardness, across cultures.

It’s the primal and primitive and terrifying and potentially Dionysian wordless humanity, but here mostly an almost impossible to express yelp of horror.

Faulkner’s genius lies in the way his characters articulate and act out this darkness, so the difficult to describe comes a little closer to clarity, whether the reader likes it or not.

The Bundrens may be human beings, related to the rest of us by species, but holy shit, I sure hope they’re distant family.

I know more of Faulkner’s literary descendants (e.g. Cormac McCarthy) than of Faulkner himself. As I Lay Dying, published in 1930, must have shattered literary expectations at the time.

This is a fantastic book that I can’t entirely understand, one that leaves me grasping at the murk, with deep respect for its creator.

As I Lay Dying is an extremely peculiar novel, and that's truly saying something considering the writer is the great William Faulkner.

Just picture the plot: a dead woman named Addie Bundren, the mother of five, lies in a box on a wagon pulled by mules, being taken to a cemetery to be buried by her family in a place where her own deceased relatives rest. Set in 1930 Mississippi, where everyone is dirt poor, the trip is filled with pain throughout the distant journey. This is due to the river flooding and the bridges collapsing in the rising waters.

The lazy husband Anse, in consequence, brought down the woman, who was worn out prematurely by him, and she leaves. Cash, the eldest, is a great carpenter always hammering, sadly making the coffin. Darl is unstable, Jewel is big and seems not quite to fit with the smaller family group. Dewey Dell, the only daughter, is hiding a large problem. And last, the youngest and least, Vardaman, at about 10, uses childish words that annoy all.

Accidents occur frequently as the silly father invariably makes wrong decisions. He is a bit greedy, one of his many shortcomings. The long adventures of days living on the ground by the wagon, in barns, see the proud family reject numerous offers to stay in people's homes. Nevertheless, the members would rather suffer in silence. Doctor Peabody works for free, not by his choice, as the Bundrens keep him busy. But that is not the worst situation... a delicate odor spreads on the land and citizens begin to avoid them.

Angry words travel faster than the creaky wagon rolls. Hills must be conquered and the unending roads full of rain can perhaps be traversed. You probably would be able, that is... to guess the difficulties and the weird glances of town folks viewing in windows, streets, and stores with a state of disbelief at the strange humans. They are constantly bickering among themselves, never knowing what to do next. The little hamlets stand in the hot, dusty land, seemingly forever impoverished, yet always there.

The narrative will take a while to get comfortable with, since more than a dozen characters have a turn in each chapter commenting on the action. Faulkner was a wonderful author, giving readers a superb slice of life. It might not be fun, but the quality is there for all to see. It's not a surprise that Faulkner loved his birthplace, indigent Mississippi.

I remember my father then, who said that the reason we live is to prepare ourselves to remain dead for a long time.

It is the third time I am reading "As I Lay Dying". The first time, which really marked me, was at school when we were called for the first time to come into contact with the work of this strange old man, Faulkner. Whoever reads his books will understand why I call him that. Faulkner doesn't care to sit down and explain to you what and how or what has preceded. His thought is directly transcribed onto the paper and if you have the courage, you follow. Fortunately, this book is one of the easiest to follow as well as one of the heaviest in terms of theme. The theme, as often happens in the works of the writer, is a family. The Bundren family, which at the beginning of the book reveals that it is about to lose its core. The mother, Addie, dies and her husband and five children are called upon to face this fact as well as life afterwards. All the characters are unable to come into contact with their emotional world, which is why their actions are those we see even before we get to know them. A father who organises the funeral journey of his wife, which will be combined with the building of his elaborate coffin, a son who sits under the window of the dying woman and builds her box, a daughter who waves her fan around to prevent the flies from settling on her mother's motionless body... The book is divided into chapters with the names of the protagonists and mainly through their actions, but also their thoughts, we see Faulkner's views on life, death, the futility of both, how unprepared we are by loss, and family secrets. It is no coincidence that this book is considered one of the masterpieces of the 20th century and contains some of the most famous outbursts in world literature, as well as entire chapters that leave you speechless with their perfection (see Addie's chapter where she explains the meaninglessness of life and words). "As I Lay Dying" is a book that requires attention, patience, and in return gives the reader great satisfaction, both literary and in some places philosophical.

I remember when I was young I believed that death was a physical phenomenon. Now I know that it is simply a function of the mind. And in fact of the minds of those who are left behind. The nihilists say that it is the end. The religious fanatics say that it is the beginning. Whereas in reality it is nothing more than a tenant or a family that leaves behind a house or a city.

It would perhaps be a bit of hubris to talk about Faulkner, I believe... but I will say that the two most powerful "elements" that spoke to me from the book were the character of Vardaman (the children always know) and this phrase: "What is it that makes you laugh (Darl)?" "This this this this"...