braeden_amber 's review for:

Absalom, Absalom! by William Faulkner

forgot to log when i finished this.

but gorgeous. the south obsessed with its own rot. repeated over and over and over. unable to escape its descent because it loves the slide oh so much.

picked up two faulkners at a bookstore yesterday. the clerk with celtic rune hand tattoos told me that she's noticed that faulkner is getting really popular lately. "everyone seems to be reading him," she says, "makes sense: he's one of those names that actually lives up to it." agreed. but i'd argue that it's a bit more than that: he was so observed, so obsessed with the obsession he grew up around, the elders recounting the civil war and how things didn't always used to be this way, contradicting their own obsessive tales that seem to point towards an inevitability in it always being or at least becoming this way. and then i look around my own world, so full of inevitability; dead-set on a crash course and unwilling to change lanes. and all of a sudden this book takes place in the 1800s and 1908 and 2024 all at once. prophetic corrosion; fucking gross, dude.