El ruido y la furia (Spanish Edition)
Contents:
Even after reading this book Read first two chapters twice , you have less or no clue about appearances of some of the characters. So, that is how he plays. There are few things which was initially hard for me to understand. For example, Uncle, niece, and a horse have the same name and there is no clue who is who!
This is not a book where the readers would be told everything in the beginning or even the ending. Nevertheless, once We get the knack of it, it all goes down smoothly as the fragrance of honeysuckles slowly diffuses into the damp air on a rainy night. So, Pay attention to the one of the greatest books of all-time!!!
It has been indescribable and confounding how the people from same family can have different opinions or thoughts about something. Is it because of the parents who failed to teach or guide all of their children in same direction? Or It is because of their indifference towards all or few of their progenies? This is how the last two pages of second chapter were!
Quentin claiming to his father that he is into an incestuous relationship with Caddy, to protect her from other men is quite unthinkable. But, the nihilistic certitude with which his father refuses his claim and says that Virginity is invented by men, is even more unthinkable. When the protector failed to protect the mausoleum of the family honor and pride, he sets his soul in the streets of emptiness, surrounded by the inculpating walls towards the river which welcomed him with a tranquil indifference. Another brother, Jason, the only favorite child of his mother, troubled by financial loss of the family and frustrated by the family responsibility, embezzles the funds sent by Caddy to her daughter Miss Quentin.
The frequent accuses against Miss Q of her promiscuity by Jason roots deep in his ruthless cynicism poisoned by materialistic desires and disregard for his family. If you are buying this one, make sure the appendix is attached, unlike me! Go on and wonder. While reading Faulkner's other book, I thought of fixing some mistakes in this old post of mine.
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Yandell rated it did not like it. This book really made me work for it -- I had to read it three times to figure out what the heck it was all about. I read it first in college. I was absolutely lost. Yeah, I understand the whole stream-of-consciousness stuff, I do -- but I read this going: I read the Cliff notes and literally turned back to the cover to make sure I'd gotten the right notes.
I mean, I read them, and ask This book really made me work for it -- I had to read it three times to figure out what the heck it was all about. I mean, I read them, and asked myself: Is this the same book I read? Still didn't understand what the heck was going on. A few years ago, I was cruising the audio books in the library, and came upon this one.
I thought, maybe, just maybe, damnit, this time I'll get it. Because I've found that sometimes I just read too fast, and audio books force me to slow down -- you're at the reader's mercy; you can't skim. I can see the brilliance of what Faulkner was trying to do, but it still pissed me off. Because I think that the point of a book is to communicate, to share an idea or emotion or experience.
The point is not some convoluted self-masturbatory exercise in "ain't I brilliant and profound. But for me -- damnit, i'm not stupid. I graduated with honors, i went to a prestigious college on a merit scholarship, I majored in English, and I have read many books that others consider a "difficult read.
For me, the book is a failure and a bastardization of what a book is truly supposed to be. Your mileage may vary.
Adler, you were right. This is a great book. This is a weird weird book. And maybe not in Yeah, fine, Ms. And maybe not in a good way. And I respect that. I wish I had not read the second half of this book. But okay, ignoring the confusing bits, and the fact that none of it really makes very much sense [Faulkner is a brilliant writer but also a demon] this is a really interesting and brilliant novel about the demise of the South, and especially the demise of Southern whitehood.
But no one tries to understand. No one tries to communicate. No one except for Caddy and Dilsey even makes the barest attempt to understand him. Also, I hated this section upon first reading it too. Then once you finish the section, reread and try to figure out the timelines. I assigned clumsy year guesses to everything and I was right about like, half of them. And you can also always go here for reference.
Quentin is obsessed with the appearance of virtue within his family and with how Caddy has destroyed that, yet he takes all her agency in making those decisions within his inner narration. Caddy is desperate to hide her sin at all costs, even when it means ruining her life. The family is desperate to hide the shame of having Benjy. The family is desperate to hide themselves.
And in the course of this, they destroy themselves. If you look at this book in a cynical light, Quentin is meant to symbolize the death of the Southern planter generation. Quentin is the product of the Southern planters, the product of constant worries about time and honor and appearance and how to preserve them as they quickly disappear. He would rather die than fail to preserve this construct.
He would rather die than be without his sister, who - despite some pretty twisted elements of their relationship - he genuinely loves and who genuinely loves him back. He is torn apart by losing her. Here's how I read her: But then she is divorced. And then she is free. I hate this man so much. I am trying to push it down to accurately interpret and review this novel but I literally would write an AP-level analytic essay entirely to call Jason a dick and he would totally deserve it.
Jason is another archetype of Southern white manhood - he is a narcissistic, self-victimizing, and hypocriticial player of the stock market. He is a thief because he believes he deserves the money. And he is someone who, without failure, believes that he is the victim of the city people - and he might be right. But either way, The Dick Compson is a product of his upbringing by an awful mother and always feeling like the shafted one in comparison to older siblings Quentin and Caddy.
Jason, you fucking asshole. I fucking hate this woman so much. And responds like this: Even Quentin did that. Whoever God is, He would not permit that. You might not believe that from my offspring, but I am. But this is a bit of a narcissistic response to your child being dead. Also, I support your children in all their nonexistent efforts to flout and hurt you. Yet I'll admit that she is also emblematic of post-bellum Southern white womanhood - obsessed with appearances and caring more for the appearances of the suicides than the suicides themselves, weak-willed because she knows she has no power.
She's a tragic figure and a tragically awful figure. Yeah, no, not brother Quentin. Spoiler spoiler spoiler Quentin who confused you in section one. She is so woefully underdeveloped, guys, and it is really obvious in a book that up until now has been so nuanced in its portrayal of each character, so harsh but so understanding. It pains me to admit this, believe me, but Jason and Ms. Caroline both have a lot of depth - hateful depth, but depth nonetheless. Caddy and Dilsey are kind to her but she cares nothing for either of them - why? I found her to be an overall weak character and disappointing addition to an otherwise fantastic book.
Poor Benjy and Dilsey. But sort of the most badass thesis of all time. The thing I did not like about this section is that Dilsey is not in it enough. Anyway, I guess the thesis of this review is I kind of like Faulkner. I like that Faulkner clearly remembers his childhood in the South fondly and also recognizes the toxicity of his society. I like that he writes both in homage and in despair.
I like the nuance of thought displayed here. And I like that I cried reading this at once point. And here is what will stay with me, about this book, years from now: It is tragic and beautiful and one of the most powerful things I have ever read. Blog Goodreads Twitter Youtube Benim en sevdiklerimden hatta. View all 5 comments.
The clock tick-tocked, solemn and profound. It might have been the dry pulse of the decaying house itself, after a while it whirred and cleared its throat and struck six times. Faulkner is mapping this decadence by getting inside the head of three members of the Compson cla The clock tick-tocked, solemn and profound. Faulkner is mapping this decadence by getting inside the head of three members of the Compson clan: What separates Faulkner from his European counterparts is for me the decision to follow not the meditations of highly educated intellectuals and artists, but those of ordinary characters.
Instead of references to Classic and Renaissance culture, he explores the darker side of our psyche, people tormented by inner demons and petty concerns.
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It may be the most confusing section in the story, but after I finished the whole novel I think I understand why Faulkner has chosen Benjy as the first narrator. He is an idiot, but in his unique way of looking at the world, and in his speechless revolt at the cards he has been dealt by Fate, he is maybe the most honest of all the Compsons.
He has simple needs, and screams like a toddler when they are taken away from him: Then Ben wailed again, hopeless and prolonged. It might have been all time and injustice and sorrow become vocal for an instant by a conjunction of the planets. His frustration is a recurrent theme throughout the novel, a dark summation of the whole human condition that is destined to end in death and sorrow, and explains the title borrowed by Faulkner from a Shakespeare play: I know many readers might be put off by Benjy and his skewed perspective, but I love puzzles, and I found it fascinating to try to build a coherent picture from the broken pieces he offered me.
I simply followed his emotional outbursts and his tidbits of fact, trusting in the many other critics and readers who consistently vote this novel as one of the best written in the twentiest century. I am a convert now, and my recommendation is not only for patience, but also for multiple readings, as coming back to earlier sections will make clear most of the mysteries surrounding the events witnessed by Benjy in this first part. The second section is narrated by Quentin, the smartest scion of the family who is the sent to Harvard at great cost.
He is closer to what I expected from a stream of conscience protagonist, with a vivid imagination, rich cultural background and beautiful phrasing. He makes me want to check out the poetic works of Faulkner with passages like this, another reference to time and its destructive nature: I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire. Because no battle is ever won he said.
They are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools.
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We get to meet Quentin as he is preparing to say goodbye to the world. Life has proved to hard a nut to crack for him, and he is ready to throw in the towel. His elegy takes us on a prolonged walk through the alleys and parks in the student campus, locked inside his troubled mind, trying to come to terms with an illicit passion for his sister Caddy, with homosexual inclinations, with a rigid and outmoded Southern code of honour, with the decay he sees in even the most beautiful flowers.
And I will look down and see my murmuring bones and the deep water like wind, like a roof of wind, and after a long time they cannot distinguish even bones upon the lonely and inviolate sand. He is not explaining or justifying his decision. In a way, he is not so far emotionally for Benjy, but Quentin screams are silent and ignored by all his friends. His recurring theme is not musical, but a pervasive smell of summer nights, a pheromone of both peace and forbidden passion: Honeysuckle was the saddest odor of all.
They are also important to me because, beside enjoying puzzles, I prefer to follow my emotional reactions and not my analytic mind when judging a book. A problem in impure properties carried tediously to an unvarying nil: In a progressive march towards sanity, the third narrator is both articulate, and firmly anchored in the life of the town. He knows what he wants money, power, fame and he is ready to do anything - lie, beg and steal - to get to the top of the social ladder. Jason, the fourth of his name, is bitter, vengeful, hateful, a despicable person without any redeeming quality, but to the purpose of the novel he is also delusional, like the rest of the Compsons.
The world he lives in may have all the appearances of the real one, but what defines it is the constant filtering and adjusting Jason engages in in order to make himself the hero of his own story. Last time I gave her forty dollars. Gave it to her. Always keep them guessing. If you cant think of any other way to surprise them, give them a bust in the jaw.
Translation of "Ruido y la Furia" in English
To finish the saga of the Compson family, the author changes gear in the fourth section and abandons the first-person narration, following Dilsey, the old and loyal family cook, as she performs her daily chores around the mansion, and her nephew Luster, tasked with the daily care of the idiot Benjy. I seed the beginnin, en now I sees de endin. Luster echoes the sentiment: Glad I aint none of em.
I like to see the servants as symbols of a simpler, more natural life, as the true pillars of common sense and honesty that keeps the edifice of civilization standing, where their more sophisticated white counterparts have wasted the gifts they were born with and locked themselves inside their selfishness and pride.
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Since I am a big fan of Delta blues, I really enjoyed gems like this: Boll-weevil got tough time. In an appendix the author added several years after the first publication, many of the questions about the Compson family are answered, but he needs only two words to describe Luster and Dilsey they endured I have reached the end of my notes, yet I feel I have only scratched the surface of the novel. A whole separate review could, and should be written about the women in Jefferson, Mississippi, about the weakness and fragility of the matriarch Caroline, about the wild, seductive, elusive grace of Caddy or about the rebellious and finally liberated Quentin, named after her ill-fated uncle.
A re-read is a must for the serious scholar. And the position among the best 20 century novels seems justified for this mausoleum of all hope and desire View all 23 comments. Jun 26, Philip marked it as on-hold-try-again-later Shelves: By using our website you agree to our use of cookies.
In spite of this experimental and innovative narrative, the author succeeds again and again in capturing the reader with the tragic force of history and language and to keep the tension alive. Bunu bende kitap bittikten sonra anlayabildim. Macbeth - Acto 5, Escena 5 - William Shakespeare While Proust gently but thoroughly leads us through the inner-workings of our past, present, and future, Faulkner attempts to capture the continual and forceful vying of these elements within the mind—at the intentional cost of a coherent linear narrative. View all 31 comments. I thought, maybe, just maybe, damnit, this time I'll get it. After my mother passed away six years ago, I drove from the service at the Natchez, Mississippi cemetery, passing the sage green kudzu-blanketed bluffs of the wrinkled and outspread Mississippi River under a canopy of colossal oaks bountiful with pendulant Spanish moss, then turned onto the rugged streets of old Natchez, and traveled past a number of the town's many antebellum mansions.
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