The Sound and the Fury: The Corrected Text

The Sound and the Fury: The Corrected Text

William Faulkner

Language: English

Pages: 326

ISBN: 0679732241

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


“I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire. . . . 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 of 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.” —from The Sound and the Fury
 
The Sound and the Fury is the tragedy of the Compson family, featuring some of the most memorable characters in literature: beautiful, rebellious Caddy; the manchild Benjy; haunted, neurotic Quentin; Jason, the brutal cynic; and Dilsey, their black servant. Their lives fragmented and harrowed by history and legacy, the character’s voices and actions mesh to create what is arguably Faulkner’s masterpiece and  one of the greatest novels of the twentieth century.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

colder, Dilsey says.” “Oh, Mother.” Caddy said. “Nonsense.” Uncle Maury said. “She’s been in school all day. She needs the fresh air. Run along, Candace.” “Let him go, Mother.” Caddy said. “Please. You know he’ll cry.” “Then why did you mention it before him.” Mother said. “Why did you come in here. To give him some excuse to worry me again. You’ve been out enough today. I think you’d better sit down here and play with him.” “Let them go, Caroline.” Uncle Maury said. “A little cold wont hurt

it, still watching her. The woman rubbed her hands on her apron. “I got to have that bell fixed,” she said. She went to the door and jerked it open. The little bell tinkled once, faint and clear and invisible. We moved toward the door and the woman’s peering back. “Thank you for the cake,” I said. “Them foreigners,” she said, staring up into the obscurity where the bell tinkled. “Take my advice and stay clear of them, young man.” “Yessum,” I said. “Come on, sister.” We went out. “Thank you,

going goodnight Quentin I stopped what do you want in the woods the tree frogs were going smelling rain in the air they sounded like toy music boxes that were hard to turn and the honeysuckle come here what do you want come here Quentin I went back she touched my shoulder leaning down her shadow the blur of her face leaning down from his high shadow I drew back look out you go on home Im not sleepy Im going to take a walk wait for me at the branch Im going for a walk Ill be there

only change one another forever that way merge like a flame swirling up for an instant then blown cleanly out along the cool eternal dark instead of lying there trying not to think of the swing until all cedars came to have that vivid dead smell of perfume that Benjy hated so. Just by imagining the clump it seemed to me that I could hear whispers secret surges smell the beating of hot blood under wild unsecret flesh watching against red eyelids the swine untethered in pairs rushing coupled into

says. “I already knew this. Send this collect,” I says, taking a blank. Buy, I wrote, Market just on point of blowing its head off. Occasional flurries for purpose of hooking a few more country suckers who haven’t got in to the telegraph office yet. Do not be alarmed. “Send that collect,” I says. He looked at the message, then he looked at the clock. “Market closed an hour ago,” he says. “Well,” I says. “That’s not my fault either. I didn’t invent it; I just bought a little of it while under

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