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3.86 AVERAGE
3.86 AVERAGE
dark
reflective
sad
tense
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Wow this is a hard book. The first thing you'll notice when you start reading it is that the sentences are the size of paragraphs and the paragraphs are the size of chapters, which makes it extremely difficult to keep track of all the pieces of the puzzle so to speak. It's also really hard just because of the content in it. The story goes through some pretty brutal arcs, as it takes place on a plantation in the south. It follows some nasty people and it does not shy away from demonstrating the brutality of these slave owners. Not to mention the hostility and frequency of the slur you'd probably expect they used all the time throughout. Another way it's hard is just in understanding and remembering the connections between the characters. Thank goodness there's a character breakdown in the back of the book because otherwise I may have been a goner. What I'm saying is that this is probably an exceptionally well written book and Faulkner has clearly mastered the prose he's going for here but without a reread I'm not sure I can say I fully or even half understand it, but because of the material I also can't really see myself actually going back to do that work.
In all ways this is a really hard book (except physically, as I read it in paperback)
In all ways this is a really hard book (except physically, as I read it in paperback)
Thomas Sutpen is a man with one single, unfailing goal: to forge a dynasty in 1830s Jefferson, Mississippi. A century later, young Quentin Compson, obsessed with Sutpen, slowly uncovers the interweaving, ever-expanding story of Sutpen's ruthless ambition, the intervention of the Civil War, and his ultimate failure and destruction through his children. A gothic novel of the highest degree, this book is rich with complicated family histories, race issues, and above all complex character motivations that create a slowly evolving story of increasing depth and darkness. The writing style is lengthy and dense, becoming at times frustratingly difficult, but in the end the pieces of the story unify into a whole truth: a vivid analysis not only of one man's life, but of the lives of those he touched and of Southern identity itself.
The major fault of this novel is the lengthy, wordy, sometimes difficult writing style; the major strength is the complex layers of plot which confuse, reveal, confuse again, and reveal more, building an ever more complex and meaningful complete story. In many ways, this weakness and strength feed in to each other: it would not be the same book if it were written any other way, but the novel may be difficult or off-putting to some readers as a result. Faulkner's writing style is often dense and presented as a stream of consciousness, where topics shift, articles go unspecified, and phrases or words are repeated for emphasis. In Absalom, Absalom! the style is even more exaggerated, with incredibly long sentences and paragraphs. Worse, despite the fact that the narrator changes a number of times through the book, the narrative voice is almost always identical, making it difficult to separate speakers and determine character relations. The difficult, dense narrative may make it hard for the reader to begin this book—it takes a few chapters to get into the rhythm of the writing, and the reader has to accept a certain degree of confusion and trust that the story will explain itself in time.
However, granted some hard work and some faith in Faulkner's storytelling, the novel expands into a story of increasing complexity and great depth. Like the writing style, which often begins with confusing references and repetition before resolving into comprehensible storytelling, the plot is alternately confusing and revealing. Once one relation, motivation, or event is revealed, it again becomes confusing, and then again reveals new information—information which often revises previous events or complicates an earlier character. As such, the story may come back to the same event three times, but each time exposes more about the event, the people involved, and their motivations, creating an ever more meaningful story as the truth is revealed. Such complexity would be impossible without the dense writing style, and both style and story aid the other into new settings, rich language, new events, greater motivation.
As the book comes to its conclusions and the final revelations unfold, there is a classically tragic sense to Sutpen's story: stuck between the reality and the appearance of his own success, he watches and enacts the repeated downfall of his personal dynasty and finally himself, all by way of his offspring. Quentin, the reader's companion as he researches and knits together Sutpen's story, must interpret this underlying failure, the crisis of Southern identity: what it means to be a part of, what it means to be great in, the South—and ultimately, of course, this is an identity crisis that reaches from the South to all humanity. The end of the book is heavy with motivation and character, and ultimately fulfilling, even as it raises doubt and a sense of personal dis-ease. So while the writing style can be difficult at times, while the constant confusion and re-confusion of the plot may become frustrating, this is ultimately a satisfying read: satisfying to the very heart of the reader, a brilliant piece of storytelling and a wonderful analysis of humankind. I greatly enjoyed it and very highly recommend it—to all readers, even those that have to force themselves through the first few chapters.
The major fault of this novel is the lengthy, wordy, sometimes difficult writing style; the major strength is the complex layers of plot which confuse, reveal, confuse again, and reveal more, building an ever more complex and meaningful complete story. In many ways, this weakness and strength feed in to each other: it would not be the same book if it were written any other way, but the novel may be difficult or off-putting to some readers as a result. Faulkner's writing style is often dense and presented as a stream of consciousness, where topics shift, articles go unspecified, and phrases or words are repeated for emphasis. In Absalom, Absalom! the style is even more exaggerated, with incredibly long sentences and paragraphs. Worse, despite the fact that the narrator changes a number of times through the book, the narrative voice is almost always identical, making it difficult to separate speakers and determine character relations. The difficult, dense narrative may make it hard for the reader to begin this book—it takes a few chapters to get into the rhythm of the writing, and the reader has to accept a certain degree of confusion and trust that the story will explain itself in time.
However, granted some hard work and some faith in Faulkner's storytelling, the novel expands into a story of increasing complexity and great depth. Like the writing style, which often begins with confusing references and repetition before resolving into comprehensible storytelling, the plot is alternately confusing and revealing. Once one relation, motivation, or event is revealed, it again becomes confusing, and then again reveals new information—information which often revises previous events or complicates an earlier character. As such, the story may come back to the same event three times, but each time exposes more about the event, the people involved, and their motivations, creating an ever more meaningful story as the truth is revealed. Such complexity would be impossible without the dense writing style, and both style and story aid the other into new settings, rich language, new events, greater motivation.
As the book comes to its conclusions and the final revelations unfold, there is a classically tragic sense to Sutpen's story: stuck between the reality and the appearance of his own success, he watches and enacts the repeated downfall of his personal dynasty and finally himself, all by way of his offspring. Quentin, the reader's companion as he researches and knits together Sutpen's story, must interpret this underlying failure, the crisis of Southern identity: what it means to be a part of, what it means to be great in, the South—and ultimately, of course, this is an identity crisis that reaches from the South to all humanity. The end of the book is heavy with motivation and character, and ultimately fulfilling, even as it raises doubt and a sense of personal dis-ease. So while the writing style can be difficult at times, while the constant confusion and re-confusion of the plot may become frustrating, this is ultimately a satisfying read: satisfying to the very heart of the reader, a brilliant piece of storytelling and a wonderful analysis of humankind. I greatly enjoyed it and very highly recommend it—to all readers, even those that have to force themselves through the first few chapters.
This is, by far, the darkest Faulkner novel I've yet to encounter... and, once it gets in your blood, you're bewitched to the last page.
dark
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Not a fan of Faulkner's writing style. Run-on sentences and stream of consciousness and confusion are just not my thing.