How the Greats Are Great

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from Absalom, Absalom!
William Faulkner

That's all Miss Rosa knew. She could have known no more about it than the town knew because the ones who did know (Sutpen or Judith: not Ellen, who would have been told nothing in the first place and would have forgot, failed to assimilate, it if she had been--Ellen the butterfly, from beneath whom without warning the very sunbouyed air had been withdrawn, leaving her now with the plump hands folded on the coverlet in the darkened room and the eyes above them probably not even suffering but merely filled with baffled incomprehension) would not have told her anymore than they would have told anyone in Jeffeson or anywhere else.

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Faulkner infuriates and fascinates me, which may explain why I've read Absalom, Absalom! twice despite beating my head against his style all the way through.



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This page contains a single entry by Steven Riddle published on December 10, 2007 9:12 AM.

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