INTRODUCTION: SEEKING A LIVING WORD From early in William Faulkner's career as a novelist, he wrote as a man troubled by very medium of language itself. Even prior to discovery of his apocryphal Yoknapatawpha County and masterful stories that would, in rapid-fire succession, quickly follow, he troubled by language's potential to remove human beings from necessary dynamism of lived experience. Nevertheless, he also discerned tremendous power of to manifest all that marks species as distinct. That is to say, humankind's dependence on left it precariously balanced between, on one side, disorder of sub-human existence and, on other side, mere lifeless abstraction, cut off from all vitality. (1) In his second novel, Mosquitoes, a work that predates imaginative return to what he called his postage stamp of native [Mississippi] soil, Faulkner explores nature of language that is both perilous and hopeful (Art). The peril is illustrated when narrator of Mosquitoes makes plain temptation toward despair in words: Talk, talk, talk: utter and heartbreaking stupidity of words. It seemed endless, as though it might go on forever. Ideas, thoughts, became mere sounds to be bandied about until they were dead (153). The sentiment is one that Faulkner harbors and which would be crucial throughout his career as a writer--that is, as a man of words: in transferring experience into speech, are prone to rob deeds of their vitality. Within talky narrative of Mosquitoes, (2) however, Faulkner offers his own possible answer--one easily enough discerned, but hardly achieved--in loquacious figure of Dawson Fairchild, a character who maintains a hope that words brought into a happy conjunction produce something that lives (173). The early novel, then, looks toward a new kind of writing that would seek to collapse word and deed, bringing into existence through language a new being that is vital and substantial. (3) Coinciding with this discovery of language's potential a return to his native region, which he would later rename Yoknapatawpha County. In a brief and prolific period, from January 1929 to October 1930, Faulkner published his first three Yoknapatawpha stories, with latter two, The Sound and Fury and As I Lay Dying, proving to be his first true masterpieces. Arguably, it is in these two novels that Faulkner's new conception of language moved to fore, serving as a central theme in each work. That is to say, The Sound and Fury and As I Lay Dying are, in many respects, novels about language and Faulkner's own struggle to produce works of art in line with his new conception of language. And weaving its way through two stories is metaphor of Jesus of Nazareth, who is presented in Christian Bible--particularly Johannine texts (4)--as incarnate utterance of God, divine logos, the Word that was made flesh, and dwelt among humankind (John 1.14). In Faulkner's novels, two characters serving as thematic foils are Quentin Compson in former and Jewel Bundren in latter; taken together, pair exemplifies two novels' contrapuntal relationship, revealing opposite reactions to necessity of human verbality. Understanding, then, each young character's response to humanity's dependence upon language is crucial, for in their attitudes toward words, Faulkner reveals a wrestling with himself, seeking to come to terms with inescapable dependence upon speech that is distinguishing characteristic of humankind. FAULKNER'S CHRIST FIGURES When taking stock of Faulkner's imaginative reserve, one might find Flannery O'Connor's description of American South, with slight modification, to be a strikingly appropriate description of novelist's mind: if not centered on biblical mythology, his imagination inescapably haunted by it. (5) Scriptural allusions are rife within his stories, occasionally even edging their way into works' titles, and Christian Gospels seem to be especially venerated throughout his career. …
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