I've often attempted to envision how to depict the unwavering focus of Faulkner's characters.

I believe it is the intensity of their despair. It's not Thoreau's quiet desperation nor even Kierkegaard's. It's the furious torrent of Jewel's despair.

It has more to do with inhabiting a body in a harsh world. Bloom is correct that this book surpasses all of McCarthy's works except Blood Meridian. So much of McCarthy's own language is directly drawn from Faulkner's five greatest books.

"They stand in terrific hiatus, the horse trembling and groaning. Then Jewel is on the horse's back. He flows upward in a stooping swirl like the lash of a whip, his body in midair shaped to the horse. Or: Save for Jewel's legs they are like two figures carved for a tableau savage in the sun."

You can include Darl Bundren in my list of peculiar narrators. He narrates sections where he wasn't present and couldn't possibly have been a witness. Peculiar indeed. Ishmael (or the narrator of Moby Dick) does the same. Unless he's Pip. The narrator of Fiskadoro does too.

See: the boy Fiskadoro, the one we know best of all, the only one who was ready when we came. I'm sorry, we who? And what initially led me down this path - who narrates Blood Meridian? Why doesn't the kid have a name? Who wants me to see the child? What's a witness?

I appreciate how Faulkner employs figurative language or how he puts words in the mouths of his characters in figures they would use. That's not as simple as it seems. Wallace, for instance, almost always stumbles when he attempts it. But Vernon Tull: "He looked at me, his eyes round and black in the middle like when you throw a light in an owl's face."

I guess that's not a novel observation on my part. That's pretty much what Faulkner does. It just works so well. I love how each character has his or her own way of describing Anse.

And Bloom is right again about the sheer awesomeness of Darl's descriptive prose.

"Some time toward dawn the rain ceases. But it is not yet day when Cash drives the last nail and stands stiffly up and looks down at the finished coffin, the others watching him. In the lantern light his face is calm, musing; slowly he strokes his hands on his raincoated thighs in a gesture deliberate, final and composed. Then the four of them--Cash and pa and Vernon and Peabody--raise the coffin to their shoulders and turn toward the house. It is light, yet they move slowly; empty, yet they carry it carefully; lifeless, yet they move with hushed precautionary words to one another, speaking of it as though, complete, it now slumbered lightly alive, waiting to come awake. On the dark floor their feet clump awkwardly, as though for a long time they have not walked on floors." [Darl, not present, seems to be channeling Vernon who says elsewhere "like we hadn't never wore hats before."]

Ufff, it's Faulkner. Let's see who is the smart aleck who says that "As I Lay Dying" is a failed novel. Well, let's see. I myself, for crying out loud, although I don't want to act like a know-it-all, even if I could, I say it (at least based on the translation I have read, who knows).

Let me explain. Not knowing that the novel is by Faulkner nor where the events take place, if someone comes to me and tells me the plot, I immediately think of a very black tragicomedy very much in the style of Berlanga, and I wish this had been the case and the tone, but no, it's Faulkner, and I think he wasn't the right writer to tell this story. What can we do? It doesn't matter. Paraphrasing Faulkner himself:

\\n   “God knows what's in people's hearts. If it's His will that we don't all think the same about His novel, I'm not one to question His divine plans.” \\n

A family, reluctantly fulfilling the mother's wish to be buried in her hometown (she wants to be as far away as possible from her husband and children), undertakes the journey in a rickety cart carrying the coffin that the son has built over the course of days under the watchful eye of his dying mother. The journey and its grotesque and eventful adventures while transporting the increasingly putrid coffin will be the novel. The result is a woman's revenge for the life her husband gave her.

\\n   “I am a chosen one of God, for He punishes those He loves. But I'll be damned if He hasn't chosen, it seems, a very strange way to show His love.” \\n

You tell me if a much more suitable writer to tell this story wouldn't have been Erskine Caldwell, who was also very admired by Faulkner himself. Those who have read his works, which I recommend from here, will know what I mean. Caldwell, with the same bad luck that Faulkner had when writing his work, although surely with a less formal exhibition and perhaps with a more conventional structure (the novel consists of fifty-nine chapters narrated by fifteen different characters, including the dead mother, in a kind of internal monologue) but with a lot more grace and a bit more affection for his characters, would have built a fantastic comedy, a sad comedy, and an unsurpassable portrait of these poor, ignorant, naïve, stingy, and selfish peasants who make up the protagonist family.

My mother is a fish.

Faulkner's short novel delves into the story of a rural family in the wake of their matriarch's death. It is a work that is both funny and disturbing, maddening yet thought-provoking, and mysterious all at once.

I have never been a great enthusiast of stream of consciousness. As a result, I have never managed to finish "The Sound and the Fury". However, Faulkner shows great skill in limiting that technique in this particular work. He does make use of multiple narrators, diverse perspectives, engaging themes, and an eclectic narration style.

I can't help but think that this is a sort of thin, minimalistic American take on "War and Peace".

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I loved it, I hated it and I loved it again. Such a passionate writing with such a tragic and dark content. From the Favorites now in the library.

There is no need to say anything else. Read it!

This short text seems to express a complex and intense emotional journey. The author's relationship with the work in question is filled with contradictions. First, there is love, then hate, and finally, love once more. The description of the content as tragic and dark adds an element of mystery and allure. It makes the reader curious to know what exactly lies within the pages of this piece. The fact that it is now among the favorites in the library further emphasizes its significance. It implies that despite the initial turmoil of emotions, the work has managed to leave a lasting impression and earn a special place in the author's heart. The simple directive at the end, "Read it!" serves as an invitation for others to embark on their own exploration of this captivating piece.

Świetna rzecz. Bolesna, ale świetna. This simple yet profound statement holds a wealth of meaning. It describes something that is wonderful, yet at the same time, it comes with a certain amount of pain. It could refer to a variety of experiences, such as achieving a difficult goal, going through a challenging relationship, or even facing a personal struggle. The beauty of this statement lies in its ability to capture the complexity of life. We often strive for the good things, but we must also be prepared to endure the hardships that come with them. In the end, it is the combination of the sweet and the bitter that makes life truly worthwhile.

Through the central theme of "As I Lay Dying" which is the mission of a family to transport and bury the coffin of the dead mother in her native land, we enter a special universe, with intertwined threads and mixed emotions, where the dramatic mingles with the comic, becoming one. The backdrop is the American South, with mules, wagons, bridges, simple, small, insignificant people of toil.

The stag continuously floats on the surface, the farce and the drama exist in equal amounts, and the author dares to give them the same weighty significance. It also resembles a fairy tale, with its terrifying, almost wild elements, which are immediately overshadowed by the theater of the absurd that is constantly taking place.

Through the seemingly simple prose, the unstable dialogues where the reader tries to be caught by the story, the madness and the farcical comedy, moments of brilliance quietly emerge, thoughts that seem absurd in their seriousness, speculations with a deep, powerful root.

"How our lives pass in breathlessness and in silence, unheard-of movements that we unheard-ofly mix; echo from ancient compulsions from handsless paws on stringless organs: at sunset they go mad, dead gestures from dolls."

The text drips with the agony of the characters on every page, we feel that each person is going through their own condemnation, plunging into the boiling cauldron of themselves and suffering eternal from this burning.

Alternation of cold and hot, the serious and the frivolous compete on the rope of balance and the preponderance of one or the other alternates.

The only time Addie Bundren, the mother, takes the floor in the text, she offers us an essential key to understanding, I assume, the author's world. She tells us that words are of no use, they can never convey what they really want to express. Faulkner seems to dig into the deepest cavity of the human condition, simply but with a sharp way.

So it remains for one to decode the silences, the looks, the imperceptible and intangible movements in order to be able to feel and understand.

Closing the book, I am startled by Darl; I hear him going crazy for no reason. And the Cash's thumping, who is planing the coffin of his mother while she listens to him from the window of her room, as she is dying. And Benjamin Bundren, who stubbornly wants the train of his sister. And Dewey Dell, who wants to buy something important, which cannot be bought with ten dollars. And Jewel, the "living lie" of his mother. And Anse, the embodiment of meanness and human pettiness. I am startled by all these things that were meant, all these things that were not said because they are impossible to say.

"There are times when I am not at all sure if anyone has the right to decide when a man is crazy and when he is not. There are times when I say to myself, none of us is entirely crazy, just as none of us is entirely sane, as long as the rest of us judge him one way or the other. Because it is not so much what each man does, as the way the majority judges him when he does it."

"Gor to Gor" is a story about a middle-aged woman named Adi Bandarīn, who has five children named Kash, Daral, Jowel, Davidel, and Wardman. Currently, she is on her deathbed, and her eyes are waiting to close forever. Ansi, Adi's husband, has promised her that he will bury her in the city of Jafarsun after her death. Since the distance between their place of living and Jafarsun is very long, it has caused many problems for this family. However, Ansi has remained faithful to his promise and...

This book is full of hidden sorrows and pains. From the very beginning, you can feel the great sadness hidden in each sentence. "Gor to Gor" brought tears to my eyes. I really mean it... From start to finish, it makes you want to cry for the fate of this family. And of course, it's a story with many hidden words. It has profound messages that you need to think about.

There are many narrators in the book. If I'm not mistaken, there are more than ten narrators in different chapters of the story. But what's really interesting is that with so many narrators, it's not confusing at all. The story is completely coherent and you can read it without any questions, and you will get the answers to your questions by yourself.

The story is about a rural family. On the surface, we think they are all simple, but their thoughts, words, and behaviors prove otherwise. Some of them do things that I never thought of, that is, I never expected them. It was strange, very strange.

I really liked the character of Wardman and the chapters related to him. I liked his way of speaking and his thoughts. In fact, he had a special charm. Kash, Daral, Jowel, and Davidel also had many positive and negative points in terms of personality. In some places, I could understand them, but in many places, they confused me... The characterizations were really wonderful. That is, you couldn't find any flaws in the characterizations of this book. After the end of the story, you will realize the hidden goal that the author had in creating the characters.

"Gor to Gor" was one of the most beautiful and unique reading experiences for me. Its charm was indescribable. It had an extremely strange, mysterious, and profound story in absolute simplicity. That's why you need to think deeply about its plot while reading it. Also, note that the book is not very long. It has only three hundred pages and you can read it in the shortest possible time.

Many words can be said about the characters, the storytelling, and everything in this book. But it may also spoil the story and reduce its charm for those who haven't read it.

I really want to keep talking about it. About Kash, about Daral, about Ansi, about the mother of the family, and of course about Davidel and Wardman... I want to write about all of them separately. It was strange. Everything in this book was strange. Strange and beautiful and full of sorrow...!!!!

And yet, the end. From the very beginning when I started reading, I was thinking about the end and saying to myself, "How did he write the ending? How did he finish it? And and and..."... The ending was really amazing, flawless, and wonderful. I never thought of such an ending even for a moment. In the last line, the real identity of one of the characters is revealed one hundred percent. And that's where I wanted to empty myself and let go of my emotions... Although the end of the book made me a little nervous, I really enjoyed it and it was one of the best endings of the books I've read.

A union without love,

which gives birth to children without love,

who live lives devoid of love in a life of hardships.

Not even the death of the wife and mother and the journey that the father and children make to bury her serves to unite them.

Rather, it divides them more and more and does nothing but accentuate the sound of these solitary voices,

incapable of producing any melody,

of these single egos that seek a way of union but never really find it.

The story of Dipana in 59 monologues.

The stream of consciousness rules it and, as predictable,

the reading is not always easy.

Like the best proofs of Woolf or Joyce,

a second reading is advisable to have a perfectly clear picture of the events.

The ending has a bit disconcerted me.

It seems to recompose a circle or reaffirm the prevailing egoism.

Or perhaps it encloses within itself only an act of revenge.

The strangest book I've ever read in my life!

It had such a unique and novel narrative style, and there was such a palpable bitterness in the story that I can't say I didn't like it, but I was really annoyed after reading it.

At first, I didn't understand at all who was talking to whom, and for about fifty pages, I was confused. When I finally understood who was talking to whom, because the story was told from the perspective of the characters' minds, not from their eyes or even from a third-person perspective, many things were left in ambiguity until the next narrator came and added a little bit to complete it.

It was really annoying, but I liked this feeling of being annoyed.

I feel that one shouldn't know what the plot of this book is.

One shouldn't read a summary of it at all. I confronted it myself without any prior knowledge about the story, and my advice is that if you want to have a crazy experience, go to it without reading the summary of the story.

Strange to say, I didn't like the translation? A translation that is too Persian annoys me. I don't like it when the translation smells like ghormeh sabzi. It's a bad taste. I'm sorry.

David is out in the rain and when he enters the house, he is dripping wet. The sound of the rain falling on the roof can be heard clearly. He takes a warm shower to get rid of the cold and wetness and then settles into a chair. He turns on the lamp and starts to read.

Henry is completely engrossed in the book. He turns back a few pages and a wrinkle appears on his brow, indicating that he is facing some difficulties in understanding it. He is a smart person with a decent brain, as shown by the drawing of a decent brain. It is believed that he will figure out the problems in the book.

Rose tries to distract Henry from his obvious difficulties. She asks how long the author spent writing the book. She guesses it might be eight weeks, judging from the look of it. However, she also supposes that there was really no need for an editor.

Henry sets the book aside for a moment and suggests that perhaps for dinner tomorrow they should have fish. In response, Rose tells him that if he thinks this book is difficult, he should try reading The Sound and the Fury.

At first, it seemed strange to me, but gradually as the style and the story took hold, it became so captivating that I fell in love with it! For an ordinary reader, not someone who is a lover of literature or of different and special styles, it can be astonishing and difficult.

The story begins when the mother is waiting for death and everyone is preparing in their own way for her to die. The eldest son of the family, who is a carpenter, makes a coffin for her, and the mother, who is still alive, senses the approach of her death with a hoarse voice.

After the mother's death, their journey and the main plot of the novel begin. Everyone wants to stop them from this long journey that is being carried out with a cart and says it's not right to move the dead person around like this, but the father of the family doesn't listen. At every step of this journey, they encounter various problems, and the father of the family tries to deal with these problems. He blames God knows what and measures their stupidity by putting it on the neck of misfortune or by attributing it to the promise he made to his wife, and so on.

Aprendi em Matemática que o caminho mais curto entre dois pontos é uma recta. No entanto, em “Na Minha Morte”, William Faulkner subverte esse conceito de duas formas. Primeiro, na situação da mãe moribunda que deseja ser enterrada na sua terra natal, o que fica ainda mais distante devido à queda das pontes mais próximas. Isso mostra que a realidade não sempre segue o caminho mais óbvio ou curto. Depois, a forma sinuosa como a história é narrada também contribui para a subversão desse conceito. A família Bundren é peculiar, começando pelo pai e terminando nos quatro filhos. Cada um deles tem suas próprias características e atitudes. O pai é um homem que parece não se importar com muita coisa, enquanto os filhos têm suas próprias preocupações e paixões. A mãe e a filha têm seus próprios segredos, o que adiciona mais complexidade à história. A escrita de Faulkner é única e cheia de picos de lirismo, como o capítulo relatado pela própria matriarca. Ela aprendeu que as palavras não servem para nada, que nunca se adaptam ao que elas querem dizer. Addie, a mãe, tem de passar por várias provações, como a água, o ar e o fogo, antes de finalmente descansar debaixo de terra. A história chega a um final que deixa o leitor boquiaberto, mostrando que a vida não é sempre linear e que as pessoas têm que enfrentar muitos desafios antes de chegar ao final.