The Sound and the Fury - Part 2

I feel a bit cheated. There should be some reward for completing difficult books. It's like after a week of starvation and deprivation when you jump on the scales only to find no change. I was hoping that eventually all would be revealed like one of those 'magic eye' pictures where you have to stare at the image in soft focus until the 3D image suddenly reveals itself. Never happened. That's it for me and stream of consciousness writing. The confusion, fog, double guessing, frustration, and sense of inadequacy I can get with trying to fathom my own stream of consciousness. But the critics tell us that this is one of the greatest novels of the 20th century. In fact the Modern Library rates it as the sixth greatest English-language novel of the twentieth century. Perhaps its an American thing.

In the end there is no incest only a brother trying to think of a way to share the shame of his sister's promiscuity. Apparently, a hand around the shoulder and a box of tissues didn't cross his mind. Another brother throws himself into the river - although not quite clear when that happened. The 'imbecile' gets castrated, but that fact is well hidden among gibberish about a gate been left open. And all of this is blamed on the muddy knickers of their sister. See what I mean?

I noticed that after spending such a difficult time with all these characters I didn't really know them nor their real story any better. Yet, isn't this why we love reading, to be immersed in the fullness of another's life, or have the world revealed afresh through the eyes of another? Perhaps it's a stalker thing.

In the end I was just frustrated that the richness of the characters and the story itself was obscured by the writing style. I was always too conscious of the author's hand rather than the characters themselves. I'm thinking about smarty pant chefs who so work over the food and your left wishing you'd ordered the steak sandwich. Think all things foam and Shannon Bennett. To me this book is the beginning of the ascendancy of 'the idea' over 'beauty' in Art. Given the books' focus on consciousness and thoughts it's no wonder it feels like the soul is missing - clever but!