The article “Faulkner’s Use of Folklore in The Sound and the Fury” by Charles D. Peavy elucidates Faulkner’s extensive use of folklore to the common reader so that a greater understanding of the general text can be gained. Much of the novel is lost upon the reader due to the complex references to folklore. Though the article focuses on five very different myths, his discussion of the significance of jimson weed held the most interest to me. Peavy first references its poisonous qualities and briefly recognizes that the fact Benjy is allowed to play with the jimson weed is surprising due to the danger it poses. However, Peavy does not connect such a topic with the disconnection of the family. After learning of its poisonous aspect I immediately saw such carelessness as a suggestion to the unloving quality of the family. After Caddy leaves, there is really no one to care for Benjy on an emotional level or even in this case truly put time into his well-being. Though a physical family structure still exists in some sense, however fragmented it is, every member of the family is for the most part independent of one another. Though Benjy has Luster to look after him, his caretaker does not truly care what he does as long as he is not visibly harmed. Therefore, there is no one to protect Benjy from the possible fatal consequences of his handling the jimson weed.
The author also identifies the jimson weed as “odoriferous” and compares its significance to Benjy to Quentin’s association with honeysuckle in the second chapter. The heavy, oppressive smell of jimson weed serves as a symbol of the importance of the loss of Caddy in Benjy’s life. The odor of the jimson weed contrasts directly to Caddy’s smell of trees. Also, just as he can never let go of the memory of Caddy, he cannot let go of the jimson weed. Unlike Quentin, however, who wants to free himself of the smell of honeysuckle, Benjy shows no desire to rid of the memory of Caddy. While the loss of Caddy gives him pain, the memories of her in childhood comfort him in his loneliness. Peavy also explores jimson weed’s representation of the male sex organ, a connotation produced by an intense study of the plant’s blooming habits. Faulkner employs Benjy’s holding of the jimson weed references his lack of male sexual organs, his castration.
Upon first reading these sections, I did not pick up these references in the least bit. Both probably would have helped my understanding of the book and eliminated at least some of my extreme confusion, but after reading this article I have come to a hypothesis. Faulkner did not want the reader to pick up on the individual clues throughout the novel, but rather connect all the obvious hints throughout the story to create a view of the overall plot. Last weekend I had two different random people and my dad tell me that to truly enjoy the overall effect of the novel it must be read as a whole instead of in parts. I agree, and I think Faulkner would too. As a whole the interconnectedness of Faulkner’s self-described greatest work flows and creates a sense of magic, while in parts, such an effect is lost. While such a conclusion was clearly not the intention of the article, the article nevertheless led me to it. If I immediately were able to identify all the references of folklore of The Sound and the Fury, I would not be as blown away as I put together the pieces of the novel and the mysterious quality of the novel would be ineffective in the face of my ridiculous intelligence. (620)
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Thursday, October 2, 2008
The Search for a Story and the Failure of Carmen Elcira
I took a different approach in finding a short story. Instead of completing a variety of stories, I decided to read the first and last three paragraphs of each story in this year’s special fiction edition of The Atlantic in order to complete my search. While in the end only one story had the correct overall qualities to win my complete attention, there was one story in particular among the running whose opening lines particularly caught my attention enough for me to finish the story, only later to be failed by its ending.
The story is called “Carmen Elcira: A (Love) Life.” What first caught my attention, as I scanned its pages to examine the length of the story, was its organization. The story is written in blurbs, each an individual tale divided by years. The story begins in 1969 and ends in 2001, with about six blurbs in between mostly centered in the 1970s. It examines the relationships of the main female character from her adolescent days until her marriage, focusing mainly on her “one true love” and making all the other men in her life side-shows to the main event of her past.
The focus of the story revolves around the main character’s young desire for sensuality and the power of love at first sight. From the moment she meets Diego, she is enthralled by his mystery and maturity, the “way he had approached her, leaning so close to her face before he left” upon their first introduction. Boys become her fleeting pleasure, but the presence of Diego in her mind is ever-present because no one can replicate his sensual beauty and his mystery. Even though she doesn’t learn his name until years later, his affect on her is no less strong. Upon their second meeting, the longing feeling strengthens in her heart and mind, further empowering the concept of love at first sight. He becomes her image of perfection, the one who serves as the comparison to all her other relationships, though their own never existed. Only for one summer of her life does anything between them occur: a summer of one-sided love and her final achievement of desired sensuality. But with the summer, any chance at a continuation of their love ends. He leaves never to return, by choice without regard for her emotions. And yet she blinded by love so much that not even his hurtful actions damage his innate perfection in her eyes. Years later when she married and settled with another man, Diego still holds a “tender spot” in her heart that will “never disappear, no matter if the tenderness is caused by bruising or by love or if, as is often the case, the two are indistinguishable.” Until the end of her life, she does not give up home of their reunion: the chance that their time will come to love once more.
Though the language was beautiful and the message strong, I found the one-sided love story pathetic. Even when her true love disappears, he’s still ever-present in her mind. She spends years moping about it to the point of sickness; even when she meets her husband, a new love, she cannot let go of the love lost. She loses track of the world around her, and loses touch with her family. The people surrounding her are lost to a man who abandoned her forever. Her marriage is almost jeopardized by the main character’s inability to forget the love of her life. Though the intention of the story was clearly not to judge the character because of her pathetic persona, I found myself almost forced to do so. Even in the ultimate lines, I felt no sympathy for the pathetic character of Carmen Elcira.
Most of the stories I skimmed, or in this case read in full, lacked substance or the power of persuasion. I didn’t find myself pondering the message of any story; instead, I was turned off by their trivial content. It may have been my inability to understand their deeply hidden meanings in the sections I scanned, or maybe it was just the magazine. (680)
The story is called “Carmen Elcira: A (Love) Life.” What first caught my attention, as I scanned its pages to examine the length of the story, was its organization. The story is written in blurbs, each an individual tale divided by years. The story begins in 1969 and ends in 2001, with about six blurbs in between mostly centered in the 1970s. It examines the relationships of the main female character from her adolescent days until her marriage, focusing mainly on her “one true love” and making all the other men in her life side-shows to the main event of her past.
The focus of the story revolves around the main character’s young desire for sensuality and the power of love at first sight. From the moment she meets Diego, she is enthralled by his mystery and maturity, the “way he had approached her, leaning so close to her face before he left” upon their first introduction. Boys become her fleeting pleasure, but the presence of Diego in her mind is ever-present because no one can replicate his sensual beauty and his mystery. Even though she doesn’t learn his name until years later, his affect on her is no less strong. Upon their second meeting, the longing feeling strengthens in her heart and mind, further empowering the concept of love at first sight. He becomes her image of perfection, the one who serves as the comparison to all her other relationships, though their own never existed. Only for one summer of her life does anything between them occur: a summer of one-sided love and her final achievement of desired sensuality. But with the summer, any chance at a continuation of their love ends. He leaves never to return, by choice without regard for her emotions. And yet she blinded by love so much that not even his hurtful actions damage his innate perfection in her eyes. Years later when she married and settled with another man, Diego still holds a “tender spot” in her heart that will “never disappear, no matter if the tenderness is caused by bruising or by love or if, as is often the case, the two are indistinguishable.” Until the end of her life, she does not give up home of their reunion: the chance that their time will come to love once more.
Though the language was beautiful and the message strong, I found the one-sided love story pathetic. Even when her true love disappears, he’s still ever-present in her mind. She spends years moping about it to the point of sickness; even when she meets her husband, a new love, she cannot let go of the love lost. She loses track of the world around her, and loses touch with her family. The people surrounding her are lost to a man who abandoned her forever. Her marriage is almost jeopardized by the main character’s inability to forget the love of her life. Though the intention of the story was clearly not to judge the character because of her pathetic persona, I found myself almost forced to do so. Even in the ultimate lines, I felt no sympathy for the pathetic character of Carmen Elcira.
Most of the stories I skimmed, or in this case read in full, lacked substance or the power of persuasion. I didn’t find myself pondering the message of any story; instead, I was turned off by their trivial content. It may have been my inability to understand their deeply hidden meanings in the sections I scanned, or maybe it was just the magazine. (680)
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