Then Ben wailed again, hopeless and prolonged. It was nothing. Just sound. It might have been all time and injustice and sorrow become vocal for an instant by a conjunction of planets.
The grave hopeless sound of all voiceless misery under the sun.
I think that The Sound and the Fury is a really beautiful book. Complex, hard to read, eventually it leaves perhaps even a small dose of incompleteness, as if something was missing... but beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, just one of those books that give you a lot of pleasure while reading, a lot of satisfaction when you finish, and lots of topics to talk and to share opinions about! A novel that vegetated in my wishlist for ages, and I'm really happy to have finally read it, and that surely, sooner or later, I'll reread.
A novel book, an excellent writing, a very big exertion in reading it in English, but a supreme happiness in having done it!
Book InfoTitle: The Sound and the Fury
Author: William Faulkner
Italian title: L'urlo e il furore
First publication date: 1929
Publisher: Vintage Books
There is a story told of a celebrated Russian dancer, who was asked by someone what she meant by a certain dance. She answered with some exasperation, “If I could say it in so many words, do you think I should take the very great trouble of dancing it?”
Richard Hughes in the introduction
Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces, I could see them hitting. They were coming toward where the flag was and I went along the fence. Luster was hunting in the grass by the flower tree. They took the flag out, and they were hitting. Then they put the flag back and they went to the table, and he hit and the other hit. Then they went on, and I went along the fence. Luster came away from the flower tree and we went along the fence and they stopped and we stopped and I looked through the fence while Luster was hunting in the grass.
The room went away, but I didn't hush, and the room came back.
How Benjy feels the power off and then on again of the light
Caddy smelled like trees.
I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you might forget it now and then for a moment and not spend all your breath trying to conquer it. 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.
Quentin remembers his father's words about the family watch
Stomach saying noon brain saying eat o'clock [...]. The trolley didn't stop so often now, emptied by eating.
What do doctors know? They make their livings advising people to do whatever they are not doing at the time.
Jason Compson III
You's a cold man, Jason, if man you is. I thank de Lawd I got mo heart den cat, even ef hit is black.