Originally published September 29th, 2013
I. Give. Up. I made it 76% of the way through this book, and I have no intention of spending more time trying to finish it. Dear Mr. Faulkner, I promise you there is no shortage of periods! You can put one or two more into your writing without worrying that there won’t be any left for your future novels. I just can’t grasp what he’s saying. The colloquialisms befuddled me, the characters’ complicated family entanglements gave me a headache. It took me forever to conclude Tennie’s Jim was a man, and not someone’s pet. I’m still not sure what a Turl is. I’m sure Faulkner has submerged a wealth of meaning just out of my grasp, and if I were taking a course on it I would appreciate it. But I’m not grasping the meaning, and I’ve got other books to read with my time.
Those of you who’ve read a few of my posts will have probably gathered that I just don’t appreciate Faulkner. (I gave him a chance. I really did.) I admire his writing, and I could see possibly enjoying a collection of short stories where I don’t have to hold all that crap in my head for a whole novel, but his full length stories just don’t do it for me. And since there are more books in the world than any one person could possibly read in several lifetimes, I am making an effort to only spend my limited time on ones that I enjoy.