I just reread it in a collection of Nobel Prize winning authors--their acceptance speeches etc., and this story and "As I Lay Dying" were chosen as examples of his work. This story!!! It's such a mundane little macabre "gotcha" story, over-anthologized for high school students (along with other tired stories like "The Most Dangerous Game"). Faulkner is such an incredible writer--I'm reading Fury in the Dust right now, and his sentences--the Nobel Prize committee described them as being "as powerful as Atlantic rollers". What was he thinking when he wrote "A Rose for Emily"? Obviously not much. Read anything else by him, you'll have a better time.

This is one of those books that are force on you at school. The basic story is of a Southern belle driven mad by isolation and her ties to the past. If this is your first reading of something representative of Faulkner this is the best example, as it is short and the story is intriguing. You can enjoy reading it for what it is and not have to analyze the thing to death. Even if you do not particularly cotton to Faulkner's style or subject matter, this book will transcend both. In 1982 they made this story into a movie with John Houseman and Anjelica Huston.

this book is about a very good short story on the changes of the south during a very representative period!

Of course the short stories here are excellent, but it is terrible that the origional Part Four of The Bear has been removed. Anyone who enjoys The Bear owes it to themselves to find a complete copy (it will have five parts) because Part Four is arguably the most important and meaningful portion of the entire story!

The essence of political conservatism is the yearning for the best of the culture and moral clime of the past--the sense that something of value to our souls has been lost in the headlong rush of human social progress. Political liberalism, on the other hand, assumes that bureaucrats and technocrats can improve upon centuries old social structures, cultural inheritances and moral codes. But there is one area where the roles of the two are reversed and that is when it comes to the environment. The American Left has a long standing love affair with nature; from Jefferson to Thoureau, Teddy Roosevelt to Al Gore, there is a pastoral strain to liberal politics, a kind of religious belief in an Edenic past and a nearly Biblical sense that man's attempts to control nature have a corrupting influence.

This sentiment has perhaps never been treated more beautifully in our Literature than in Faulkner's great short novel, The Bear. The story of a succession of hunting seasons is basically a warning from Faulkner that as we destroy the wilderness we threaten the traditions and values of our society. Nature is symbolized by the cagey ancient ursine, Old Ben. Most of the tale is told by Ike McCaslin, who is 10 years old as it begins. Initially he flounders through the woods, but as he surrenders himself to the primordial forces of Nature, he is able to sense the bear's presence. Another year, when he sets aside his gun and compass and other accouterments of civilization, he is finally able to see the bear. Gradually he earns his way into the aristocracy of the wild, until, together with Sam Fathers (part black, part Indian, he represents a kind of noble savage) and Boon Hogganbeck (a sort of elemental force of nature) and a suicidally fearless dog named Lion, he hunts down Old Ben after the bear violates the unwritten code of the woods by attacking a horse. But even as Old Ben succumbs, he will take some of them with him and his parting signals the end of a way of life.

Despite some too obscure interior monologue passages, this is Faulkner's most accessible work. It is the only Faulkner I've ever actually reread and it is so rife with symbolism and ulterior meanings, that you can always find something new in it. And, for whatever reason, it is further evidence that sports writing brings out the best in almost every author (see also "Hub Fans Bid Kid Adieu" by John Updike), in fact, it is often anthologized in Greatest Sports Story collections. Regardless of where you find it, or which version you read, it is well worth a shot.

GRADE: B+

I'm re-reading this book and really enjoying the stories (read it as tales in a novel). The book really puts different views to various people's ways of looking at the same stories and family histories. Read this and know why Faulkner is considered one of the best American novelists of all time. His people ring true, and two stories, "The Old People" and "The Bear", are just fantastic.

repetition and revenge:a speculative reading of faulkne

Irwin's book was recommended by a professor years ago, when I was reading Light in August. I bought it then but I found I needed to read Absalom! Absalom! and The Sound and the Fury closely before I could get anywhere with this book. Though Freud is pivotal in Irwin's review, his use of Freud is flexible, not dogmatic. Jungian snippets (the shadow nature of the unconscious)emerge from time to time as well. The book is essentially an investigation into Quentin Compson's struggles with incest and impotence that leads to his suicide, yet it also applies to the South's loss of the Civil War and general outrages resulting from human frustration.
Irwin's connections between S&F and Absalom are most helpful to my understanding of Faulkner's larger vision of generation and life. Irwin is a true scholar of Faulkner, well read in Freud, tragedy, and of course William Faulkner. I have not seen a better portrayal of the problem of revenge against time and Oedipal fury in any other book. Elements of Nietzsche are coupled with Freud-- Irwin is well aware of the connections between these two-- and the connections between fate and the psyche's imprisonment in endless repetitive frustrations are very well developed. I hate to use the cliche "a must read", so I'll say that Faulkner readers who need a little something extra -- not pedantic, nor too academic, but informative-- will want to read this one.

I should say that the edition that I bought only last year, the new edition, is from 1973 and may not be exactly like the revised edition. My interest in these writings arose from an understanding that they had a not intangible effect on Biblical literature. But although I feel bad giving this book only 3 stars I should explain that there are reasons for this. First is that many of the stories, etc. are fragmentary or missing the entire beginning, end or both. If they were all complete it would get at least 4. The other reason is the often obscure quality of the readings, which is purely a function of our not getting enough exposure to books like this. Mostly if the story was complete, it was very enjoyable, but if broken up and missing parts, it seemed useless to the general reader. So I cannot say that the low rating is due in any way to the fault of the editors or translators. Other than that it was a charming array of tales and advice that is every bit as good as Biblical literature.

This is a great book to add to your Egyptian Literature library. It contains many narratives, stories, lamentations, and poetry which can also be found in the three volume set by Miriam Lichtheim. Although many 'stories' are fragmentary - it is not THAT excessive. The editors have provided footnotes and commentaries on the missing parts of the stories, which attempt to explain the missing parts. Each 'story' starts with a commentary, and is followed by the text. Some pieces include: "Shipwrecked Sailor", "Story of Sinuhe", "Tale of the Doomed Prince", "Contendings of Horus and Seth", "Truth and Falsehood", "Teaching for Merikare", "Maxims of Ptahhotpe", "The Man Who Was Tired of Life", "Instruction of Amenemope", "Hymn to the Aten", "Instruction of a Man for His Son".

The author explains Faulkner in a direct, straightforward, "Hemingway" style, risking reductiveness but undeniably expanding the potential audience for the book. Readers entirely new to Faulkner may benefit from the general introduction as well as the interpretations (basically sound, "widely-received" readings) of individual novels. Others may understandably take a pass on the first two sections in favor of the third, which provides a breakdown of the narrative order as well as the "actual" chronology of each of the chapters in Faulkner's novels. Included are scene descriptions based on compiled evidence from the chapter as well as verbal clues that alert the reader to scene shifts in a narrator's consciousness.

A downside: Like most other commentators on Faulkner, Volpe often takes too seriously the seriousness of Faulkner. This is especially apparent in discussions of "Absalom, Absalom!" Unquestionably, it is apocalyptic, tragic, visionary narrative, but it is also supreme farce. Readers need to know that it's OK be bemused by the first chapter and to laugh out loud at the second. Critics have done a grave disservice to Faulkner by representing the novel with such unrelenting sobriety. (Reading Robert Browning's "Caliban Upon Setebos" might be the first step to a cure from much insensitivity to the playfulness of Faulkner's discourse.)

Finally, the page references to Faulkner's novels have not been updated to agree with the current Vintage editions. And the decision to ignore all of the short fiction might have been more palatable had the author not cast aesthetic judgement upon it, in effect "ranking" it beneath the novels. Faulkner's short fiction is not only of the same high order as his long narratives but is inseparable from them.

The second and third sections of this book are invaluable to the serious reader or repeat teacher of Faulkner. Volpe has done all of the difficult sorting and taxonomy we are obliged to do before we can come to our own terms with a novel. Who is each narrator or character, what do the events look like in chronological order, etc. To have that kind of work done for you for such novels as "Absalom! Absalom!" and "The Sound and the Fury" is worth the price of admission.

In the second section, each novel is given a reading, and while one may not always agree entirely, they almost invariably identify all the major features and events of the novels and are often closer to very careful glossed summaries than they are argumentative. If you've read a novel, these are comprehensive enough to return to you whatever you might have forgotten. If you haven't read a novel, they function very adequately to convey the essentials.

The third section provides detailed chronologies of events for nine novels.

If you're interested in making your own sense of the novels, Volpe's meticulous work will allow you to get down to business more quickly.

The Town is the second volume of Faulkner's Snopes trilogy, picking up the story from the moment of Flem Snopes's arrival in Jefferson, Mississippi. With the foundation firmly laid in The Hamlet, Faulkner is free to delve deep into the character of Flem, the volatile Snopes-Varner dynamic, and the fascinating interaction between Eula, Gavin Stevens, and Linda Snopes, the pawn in her father's plan to take over Jefferson. Not surprisingly, another host of Snopes parade onto the scene; but it is Flem and his underhanded, diabolical shenanigans that make this novel a joy to read. The ending is both humorous and seriously disturbing, paving the way for the Fall of the House of Snopes in The Mansion. One note: while the book jacket claims The Town may be read on its own, I would highly discourage it; trek through The Hamlet first before launching into it--it is well worth your time.

Faulkner's literary reputation and legacy was cemented by the time this sequeal to The Hamlet appeared. He had also written all of his important works and was loosing his "touch", writing sequels to his more famous works and light weight nostalgic pieces (i.e. The Reivers). All in all this is still an important examination of the south, filled with the humor and horror that was Faulkner's trademark. Anyone interested in his body of work will have to read it at least once.

Found this in my library while doing research on Faulkner. A very good lit-crit before all the wierdness came into the field. Puts the novel and Faulkner's writing into perspective.

Conversations with William Faulkner is a wonderful little collection of essays about Faulkner by those who were lucky enough to have known him in all different capacities. His friends, neighbors, and publishers discuss Faulkner's life and works with additional input by a few of his students while a guest lecturer at Ole Miss. This book is a must have for any fan of Faulkner's work who would like to know the author more closely.

Before I read this book, I kept hearing what a horrible novel it was. However, it isn't horrible; it's just not nearly as fantastic as some of his other works. It's still definitely worth the read, though.

If you can make it through sentences that seem to never end and some repitition, you will find a great story of love, guilt, and Southern life. This book opens with the Sartoris family, and several young men (Bayard Sartoris and others) returning home from World War I, and the impressions war left upon them. Thrown in with a little bit of incest, love notes, and a daredevil, this book provides a good combination of mushiness (sp?), humor, and sorrow.

However, while some have said not to read this book as your first Faulkner, I disagree. And here's why: reading this book after you have read some of his other works really makes you look at this book in a more negative way, since his other works have been so great. Just remember, if this is your first Faulkner read, many of his other works are MUCH BETTER, so if you read this first and don't like it, there are MUCH BETTER ones out there. As far as reading goes, it's a pretty easy read (although you might have to keep track of all the Johns and Bayards), at least in comparison to some of his other books. Also, if you plan on reading other Faulkner books, this one is a MUST, since it introduces you to the Benbrows, Snopes, and the Sartorises-all characters that are found in some of his other novels.

Three-and-a-half-stars. "Flags in the Dust" is the first of Faulkner's Yoknapatawpha novels; it is a must-read for all potential Faulkner fans. It's not his best, by any means--the storyline is at times skittish (perhaps owing to the fact that "Flags" is the uncut, unedited version of what was originally published under the title "Sartoris"), and the characterizations are neither as deep nor as unique as those found in his later works. But "Flags" has charm and importance nonetheless. First, it is a crash course in the Sartoris family, whose many "John"s and "Bayard"s (not to menion the indomitable Granny Millard and Aunt Jenny) comprise a hefty chunk of Faulkner's later novels and short stories. Second, it is absolutely *amazing* (and I can't underscore that enough) to see Faulkner's great novels just beginning to poke through the surface of Jefferson, MS soil: the Snopes family, V.K. Ratliff (here named V.K. Suratt), the McCaslins, the Compsons (I think reference is made even to Thomas Sutpen) all make appearances in the novel. Therefore, I recommend reading "Flags" *after* you've read most of the other Yoknapatawpha novels--the breadth and depth of Faulkner's vision (anticipating or laying the foundation for novels he would write 20 or 30 years later) is truly remarkable, and is half the joy of reading it. (But whenever you read "Flags," at least make sure you've read "The Unvanquished" first--the characters will make far more sense if you do.) As for the story itself: it's convoluted and not always engrossing--though the angst of young Bayard (silently mourning the wartime death of his brother John) is portrayed achingly well, and Aunt Jenny remains one of Faulkner's most powerful leading ladies.

Though not as complex and difficult as some of his more famous works, Flags in the Dust provides some outstanding writing. It may benefit some to read The Unvanquished prior to this book as it gives some background on the Sartoris family, the main focus of Flags. Many of Faulkner's descriptions in this book are uncanny. I would have only given this book four stars, but his two-page description of the mule was alone worth one more star.

The financial success that Faulkner realized with the publication of "Sanctuary" made one thing very clear to the author: sex and violence would sell many books. And when in 1935, as he was at work on his monumental novel, "Absalom, Absalom," and needed a break from the complexities of that novel, he turned to pruriency once again in the hopes of making a few more easy dollars. But while many other authors would have fallen back on a tried and proven type of novel, Faulkner took his art to new areas. The novel is not set in Yoknapatawpha County, but in New Orleans (New Valois in the novel) and does not concern the interwoven family of characters that he had developed over the years, but a group of barnstorming aviators who follow the air race circuit across the country. There is the foolhardy pilot, his wife, a parachute jumper and a child who might be the issue of either man. That this menage a trois is carried out in the open and with the full complicity of all three members fascinates the newspaper reporter who is assigned to cover the air meet.

No doubt this is great stuff for the making of a sensational novel. But once again Faulkner fools his readers. While it is true that the novel has the tone of many of the contemporary crime novels of his day, Faulkner throws in enough Joycean word play, obscure symbolism, and obtuse prose to make it clear that, even when trying to make a buck, the author is playing by his own rules. The influence of T.S. Eliot is everywhere and there are obvious references to Eliot's "The Hollow Men," "The Waste Land" and "The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock" (one of the novel's chapters bears this title). Balanced against the literary experiments with which Faulkner was playing is a narrative that is full of excitement and sexual tension, including what surely is the first description of a "Mile High Club" encounter in literature.

This is a dark and pessimistic novel, one that looks at the uncertainty of American society created by the dehumanizing effects of the machine age. Character development is kept to a minimum and the reader never gets to know any of the characters very well. They are all, like Eliot's poem, merely hollow men adrift in an indifferent world. To enhance the general tone of malaise that permeates the novel, Faulkner sets the action during the hedonistic celebrations of Mardi Gras and the effect is startling as the reader is submerged in an atmosphere of drunkenness, aimlessness, sexual obsession, and death. But no matter how inventive the narrative style or how powerful some of the passages, the novel does not match up to Faulkner's mature fiction and is more a curiosity piece than anything else - a harrowing respite of sorts before the publication of "Absalom, Absalom."

This novelabout an aerial stunt tam and the reporter who gets involved with them is lightweight for Faulkner. It is better than anything that hack writers like Grisham King Clancy etc. have ever written with maybe a very few exceptions an there is enough of Faulkner operating at a high level to recommend it but it is at or near the bottom of his ouvre.

Faulkner's humor, even in such lighthearted books as the Reivers, could never be called madcap. Even when Lena hands Byron Bunch down from the truck bed as though he were an infant, the comedy is derived from a sense of startling humiliation and debasement. That or it's as dark as shoe polish. This latter option is the case in Pylon, which, despite its overall gravity, has many funny moments.

The story: An unnamed reporter in New Valois, some forgotten hamlet with the sole distinction of having a regulation airport that hosts diverting but empty and pretentiously-hyped plane races. This reporter discovers a polyganous relationship between one pilot (Roger Schumman) and Laverne, whose shared son is of dubious origin. Then, as always happens in a Faulkner novel, a great, sinuous spate of events kicks in. The reporter is fired from his job (only to be rehired later) for obsessing over his new crew at the expense of his correspondence. Later, the reporter embezzles a considerable sum from his office (this in addition to many times cadging money from his boss) to pay for a dangerous plane for Roger to fly against the owner's wishes. Roger dies, the child falls by mother's indifference to the custody of the paternal grandparents.

Faulkner has, to my knowledge, never written a bad book. This good, but often spotty book comes the closest to out-and-out failure as any work in the Faulkner canon of which I know. I agree with an earlier reviewer, though: I'd sooner read Faulkner or Turgenev than the [stuff] most writers call popular fiction these days.