As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner (1930)

the first, and probably the most popular, of Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha County stories, a short, dark and compelling novel set in what he called “my apocryphal county”, a fictional rendering of Lafayette County in his native Mississippi. It was his ambition, he said, after the comparative failure of The Sound and the Fury, “deliberately to write a tour de force”. Apart from Mark Twain (No 23 in this series), no other American writer before Faulkner had ever immersed his readers so completely in the vernacular language and culture of a society that was, and perhaps still is, so deeply foreign to mainstream American experience.
The death and burial of a southern matriarch, Addie Bundren, is told from some 15 viewpoints, including that of the dying woman herself. The Bundren family’s demanding stream-of-consciousness narrative (Faulkner was a modernist pioneer) is intercut with the voices of the local doctor and preacher, together with neighbours and friends. From the first line, the reader is pitched into the deep south: “Jewel and I come up from the field, following the path in single file… anyone watching us from the cotton-house can see Jewel’s frayed and broken straw hat a full head above my own.” Welcome to a brutal, backwoods community of impoverished cotton farmers in 1920s Mississippi.
Addie’s dying wish is to be buried among her own people, “a hard day’s ride” away. So her family are carting her coffin to Jefferson, Miss, for the funeral. The Bundrens’ journey to these last rites becomes itself a rite of passage punctuated with fire (a burning barn) and water (a dangerous river crossing). The brilliance of this sometimes difficult novel lies in Faulkner’s compulsive, bleak unfolding of Addie’s history and her relationship with her beloved son, Jewel, the result of her affair with Rev Whitfield, the local minister.
In counterpoint to this, we also meet her family, an extraordinary cast of weird southerners – Cash, Darl, Dewey Dell and Vardaman Bundren. Perhaps it’s the measure of Faulkner’s originality that his work seems so incomparably more contemporary than his great contemporaries, Fitzgerald and Hemingway (Nos 51 and 53 in this series). For some, he is greater than either.

A note on the text

Faulkner claimed he wrote As I Lay Dying from midnight to first light in six weeks while working at a power plant to make ends meet, and moreover that he did not change a word of it. This claim is now seen as apocryphal as Yoknapatawpha County itself. According to many sources, the title of his seventh novel derives from Book Eleven of The Odyssey, a passage where, with “As I lay dying…”, Agamemnon tells Odysseus about his murder.
As I Lay Dying has also directly influenced a number of other critically acclaimed books, including Graham Swift’s Booker prize-winning novel Last Orders and an African-American retelling by Suzan-Lori Parks, Getting Mother’s Body. The Australian novelist Peter Carey has often told interviewers that he was inspired to become a writer through reading Faulkner, whose other contemporary admirers include Mario Vargas LlosaRichard Ford, the Pulitzer prize-winning author of Canada and The Sportswriter, is another, among many American writers, who also acknowledges a debt to Faulkner, not least because he grew up in Faulkner’s home state.

Three more from William Faulkner

The Sound and the Fury (1929); Light in August (1932); Absalom, Absalom! (1936).

News is under threat …

… just when we need it the most. Millions of readers around the world are flocking to the Guardian in search of honest, authoritative, fact-based reporting that can help them understand the biggest challenge we have faced in our lifetime. But at this crucial moment, news organisations are facing an unprecedented existential challenge. As businesses everywhere feel the pinch, the advertising revenue that has long helped sustain our journalism continues to plummet. We need your help to fill the gap.
You’ve read in the last six months. We believe every one of us deserves equal access to vital public service journalism. So, unlike many others, we made a different choice: to keep Guardian journalism open for all, regardless of where they live or what they can afford to pay. This would not be possible without financial contributions from those who can afford to pay, who now support our work from 180 countries around the world.
We have upheld our editorial independence in the face of the disintegration of traditional media – with social platforms giving rise to misinformation, the seemingly unstoppable rise of big tech and independent voices being squashed by commercial ownership. The Guardian’s independence means we can set our own agenda and voice our own opinions. Our journalism is free from commercial and political bias – never influenced by billionaire owners or shareholders. This makes us different. It means we can challenge the powerful without fear and give a voice to those less heard.
Reader financial support has meant we can keep investigating, disentangling and interrogating. It has protected our independence, which has never been so critical. We are so grateful.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Lolly Willowes by Sylvia Townsend Warner (1926)

New Grub Street by George Gissing (1891)