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Intruder in the Dust
A classic Faulkner novel which explores the lives of a family of characters in the South. An aging black who has long refused to adopt the black's traditionally servile attitude is wrongfully accused of murdering a white man.
258 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1948
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6901 people want to read
About the author
William Faulkner
1,333 books10.6k followersWilliam Cuthbert Faulkner was an American writer. He is best known for his novels and short stories set in the fictional Yoknapatawpha County, Mississippi, a stand-in for Lafayette County where he spent most of his life. A Nobel laureate, Faulkner is one of the most celebrated writers of American literature and often is considered the greatest writer of Southern literature.
Faulkner was born in New Albany, Mississippi, and raised in Oxford, Mississippi. During World War I, he joined the Royal Canadian Air Force, but did not serve in combat. Returning to Oxford, he attended the University of Mississippi for three semesters before dropping out. He moved to New Orleans, where he wrote his first novel Soldiers' Pay (1925). He went back to Oxford and wrote Sartoris (1927), his first work set in the fictional Yoknapatawpha County. In 1929, he published The Sound and the Fury. The following year, he wrote As I Lay Dying. Later that decade, he wrote Light in August, Absalom, Absalom! and The Wild Palms. He also worked as a screenwriter, contributing to Howard Hawks's To Have and Have Not and The Big Sleep, adapted from Raymond Chandler's novel. The former film, adapted from Ernest Hemingway's novel, is the only film with contributions by two Nobel laureates.
Faulkner's reputation grew following publication of Malcolm Cowley's The Portable Faulkner, and he was awarded the 1949 Nobel Prize in Literature for "his powerful and unique contribution to the modern American novel." He is the only Mississippi-born Nobel laureate. Two of his works, A Fable (1954) and The Reivers (1962), won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. Faulkner died from a heart attack on July 6, 1962, following a fall from his horse the month before. Ralph Ellison called him "the greatest artist the South has produced".
Faulkner was born in New Albany, Mississippi, and raised in Oxford, Mississippi. During World War I, he joined the Royal Canadian Air Force, but did not serve in combat. Returning to Oxford, he attended the University of Mississippi for three semesters before dropping out. He moved to New Orleans, where he wrote his first novel Soldiers' Pay (1925). He went back to Oxford and wrote Sartoris (1927), his first work set in the fictional Yoknapatawpha County. In 1929, he published The Sound and the Fury. The following year, he wrote As I Lay Dying. Later that decade, he wrote Light in August, Absalom, Absalom! and The Wild Palms. He also worked as a screenwriter, contributing to Howard Hawks's To Have and Have Not and The Big Sleep, adapted from Raymond Chandler's novel. The former film, adapted from Ernest Hemingway's novel, is the only film with contributions by two Nobel laureates.
Faulkner's reputation grew following publication of Malcolm Cowley's The Portable Faulkner, and he was awarded the 1949 Nobel Prize in Literature for "his powerful and unique contribution to the modern American novel." He is the only Mississippi-born Nobel laureate. Two of his works, A Fable (1954) and The Reivers (1962), won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. Faulkner died from a heart attack on July 6, 1962, following a fall from his horse the month before. Ralph Ellison called him "the greatest artist the South has produced".
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 589 reviews
August 2, 2021
I read this in part as a response to what happened in Ferguson, the murder of that young black man still in his first youth. The poverty and nth-class status of blacks in the south at the time this novel is set--the 1940s, just before the advent of MLK and the Civil Rights Movement--was harsh and Faulkner captures it, and the murderous white vindictiveness, exquisitely. I like Faulkner. But if you have not yet read him, please don't start with Intruder. Read either The Sound and the Fury, As I Lay Dying, Light in August, Sanctuary, Collected Stories or The Hamlet first. Faulkner in his mid- to late career became very mannered in his style. He was a sad alcoholic by this time and the tipple did not help his writing. This novel is the weakest I've read, second only to the last Snopes volume, The Town. The critic Irving Howe has called the plot of Intruder "mechanical." I agree.
Now Intruder is nowhere near as bad as The Town, but it contains many self-indulgent passages where the author elects to be opaque for no good reason at all. Some choices of vocabulary are just maddening too. Not to mention the "not even" construction which must occur two or three times on every page. Having said that, let me add that there is some wonderful writing here. But you must wade through the self indulgence to get to it. Faulkner does these scenes in the buggy pitch darkness of the American south, bringing them to life like no one else I've read. In this novel most if not all of the action in and around the cemetery is beautifully rendered. Also, whenever he's traveling over landscape you are in excellent hands, but then you get to the point where he feels compelled to insert a "ten-dollar word," to use Hemingway's phrase. Hemingway said that you can't reread Faulkner, because when you do you see how he tricked you the first time through. I would limit that caveat mostly to the later work. The early work, from The Sound and the Fury onward, is outstanding and highly rereadable.
Recommended with reservations.
Now Intruder is nowhere near as bad as The Town, but it contains many self-indulgent passages where the author elects to be opaque for no good reason at all. Some choices of vocabulary are just maddening too. Not to mention the "not even" construction which must occur two or three times on every page. Having said that, let me add that there is some wonderful writing here. But you must wade through the self indulgence to get to it. Faulkner does these scenes in the buggy pitch darkness of the American south, bringing them to life like no one else I've read. In this novel most if not all of the action in and around the cemetery is beautifully rendered. Also, whenever he's traveling over landscape you are in excellent hands, but then you get to the point where he feels compelled to insert a "ten-dollar word," to use Hemingway's phrase. Hemingway said that you can't reread Faulkner, because when you do you see how he tricked you the first time through. I would limit that caveat mostly to the later work. The early work, from The Sound and the Fury onward, is outstanding and highly rereadable.
Recommended with reservations.
February 3, 2016
Me: Mr. Faulkner, I can’t begin to tell you how honored I am that you agreed to take the time to answer a couple of questions from me. Thank you very much.
Faulkner: No problem. I’m dead. I have all the time in the world.
Me: Oh, right. Still, I’m sure you have lots of other fans chomping at the bit to get a few personal words from you. So, I thank you again.
Faulkner: Let’s keep my bits out of it.
Me: Pardon me. Anyhow, some people say they can’t understand your writing, even when they’ve read it two or three times. What would you say to them?
Faulkner: Read it four times.
Me: But what about Strunk and White’s basic rules ?
Faulkner: What’s a Strunk and Whitey?
Me: William Strunk Jr and E. B. White. Elements of Style? K-I-S-S?
Faulkner: Are you asking me for a kiss?
Me: No sir. K-I-S-S: Keep it simple, stupid.
Faulkner: Are you calling me stupid?
Me: No. Oh god no.
Faulkner: Are you calling me God? Anyhow, you’re getting closer…
Faulkner: No problem. I’m dead. I have all the time in the world.
Me: Oh, right. Still, I’m sure you have lots of other fans chomping at the bit to get a few personal words from you. So, I thank you again.
Faulkner: Let’s keep my bits out of it.
Me: Pardon me. Anyhow, some people say they can’t understand your writing, even when they’ve read it two or three times. What would you say to them?
Faulkner: Read it four times.
Me: But what about Strunk and White’s basic rules ?
Faulkner: What’s a Strunk and Whitey?
Me: William Strunk Jr and E. B. White. Elements of Style? K-I-S-S?
Faulkner: Are you asking me for a kiss?
Me: No sir. K-I-S-S: Keep it simple, stupid.
Faulkner: Are you calling me stupid?
Me: No. Oh god no.
Faulkner: Are you calling me God? Anyhow, you’re getting closer…
August 16, 2023
Intruder in the Dust pulled me right in, and although there are too many digressive speeches about the Jim Crow South, I was riveted until the end. A Black man, Lucas Beauchamp has been arrested for murder but his real crime, for many townspeople, is that he acts like a white man's equal. The action is seen through the eyes of young Chick Mallison who finds himself involved in proving Lucus innocent.
I always enjoy listening to Faulkner and Scott Brick's narration was excellent.
I always enjoy listening to Faulkner and Scott Brick's narration was excellent.
October 7, 2021
First published in 1948, 51-year-old William Faulkner, whose work had frequently focused on race as a theme in his Southern Gothic style, finds in Intruder in the Dust his most vehemently vocal denunciation of the systematic racism he had grown up around and of which he was a part. Though, to Faulkner’s credit, his writing shined a revealing light on the hypocrisy and nonsensical nature of the feudal system breaking down around them all.
Faulkner begins his narration with a description of the time and place, Jefferson Mississippi, the locus of much of his best work, but here we find our story in the late 1940s, with times changing from the earlier outdated Southern planter aristocracy and in the post war boom years, with technological advances and modern conveniences replacing the older, agrarian culture.
But racism still exists and white and black folks have mores and expectations about how each group are to act, though these expectations have begun to unravel. In this time, black people are still expected to act deferential towards their white neighbors, in their manners and in their speech towards whites.
Enter one of Faulkner’s most compelling characters – Lucas Beauchamp.
We first met Lucas in the 1942 novel / collection of short works Go Down, Moses. Faulkner depicts Lucas as a proud man, self-reliant and responsible for his own actions. While common local vocabulary would require black people to refer to a white male adult named Edgar Thomas as “Mister Edgar”, using the first name following the honorific, Lucas instead insists on the more formal Mr. Thomas, in the same way white folks would refer to Edgar Thomas. Even more brazen (in this setting) Lucas, through deft social interaction, avoids using any honorific.
The problem with Lucas, in the county’s eyes, is that he does not act the part he is expected. Everyone is supposed to know their place, and Lucas instead acts as he sees fit. In this way Lucas becomes, in Faulkner’s canon, a bold and heroic figure, standing proudly against a corrupt system that rejects him and his pride, labeling him instead “uppity” or “arrogant”.
The table set, Faulkner then goes on to show where a white man has been shot in the back and Lucas, with a pistol in his back pocket, is found standing near the victim.
In the Mississippi of this time, Lucas could well be lynched without due process or a sufficient legal defense. Readers of this genre will recall Harper Lee’s brilliant courtroom drama To Kill a Mockingbird. Faulkner’s legal thriller is more peripheral, with the legal aspects of the story in the margin. Faulkner emphasizes the people who act to protect Lucas from the mob, the bereaved family and from circumstance. Two boys, one white and one black, and an elderly woman, collaborate with the sheriff to do what is right and necessary.
In this also, we see a ubiquitous theme in Faulkner’s writing, the merging importance of the rule of law over a more primitive and unjust system.
Southern Gothic writer Eudora Welty, in her review, noted the humor found in Faulkner’s work and Intruder in the Dust is a perfect example of the wink and nod dry humor the writer uses with adept skill into some of his most otherwise serious writing. The final scene is comic virtuosity that will make you smile.
Finally, Faulkner uses the novel as a vehicle whereby he can comment on racial and social inequality of his time and his anticipation of a better world ahead. Having just survived and witnessed the atrocities of National Socialism, Faulkner expands his egalitarian vision beyond the white and black of twentieth century American and includes in his dream all races and religions and ethnicities and a genuine hope for a better way to live.
Highly, highly recommended. Intruder in the Dust would be his last novel published before he accepted the 1949 Nobel Prize for literature, and though he would continue to write for another decade, many scholars see this period as the zenith of his creative genius.
Faulkner begins his narration with a description of the time and place, Jefferson Mississippi, the locus of much of his best work, but here we find our story in the late 1940s, with times changing from the earlier outdated Southern planter aristocracy and in the post war boom years, with technological advances and modern conveniences replacing the older, agrarian culture.
But racism still exists and white and black folks have mores and expectations about how each group are to act, though these expectations have begun to unravel. In this time, black people are still expected to act deferential towards their white neighbors, in their manners and in their speech towards whites.
Enter one of Faulkner’s most compelling characters – Lucas Beauchamp.
We first met Lucas in the 1942 novel / collection of short works Go Down, Moses. Faulkner depicts Lucas as a proud man, self-reliant and responsible for his own actions. While common local vocabulary would require black people to refer to a white male adult named Edgar Thomas as “Mister Edgar”, using the first name following the honorific, Lucas instead insists on the more formal Mr. Thomas, in the same way white folks would refer to Edgar Thomas. Even more brazen (in this setting) Lucas, through deft social interaction, avoids using any honorific.
The problem with Lucas, in the county’s eyes, is that he does not act the part he is expected. Everyone is supposed to know their place, and Lucas instead acts as he sees fit. In this way Lucas becomes, in Faulkner’s canon, a bold and heroic figure, standing proudly against a corrupt system that rejects him and his pride, labeling him instead “uppity” or “arrogant”.
The table set, Faulkner then goes on to show where a white man has been shot in the back and Lucas, with a pistol in his back pocket, is found standing near the victim.
In the Mississippi of this time, Lucas could well be lynched without due process or a sufficient legal defense. Readers of this genre will recall Harper Lee’s brilliant courtroom drama To Kill a Mockingbird. Faulkner’s legal thriller is more peripheral, with the legal aspects of the story in the margin. Faulkner emphasizes the people who act to protect Lucas from the mob, the bereaved family and from circumstance. Two boys, one white and one black, and an elderly woman, collaborate with the sheriff to do what is right and necessary.
In this also, we see a ubiquitous theme in Faulkner’s writing, the merging importance of the rule of law over a more primitive and unjust system.
Southern Gothic writer Eudora Welty, in her review, noted the humor found in Faulkner’s work and Intruder in the Dust is a perfect example of the wink and nod dry humor the writer uses with adept skill into some of his most otherwise serious writing. The final scene is comic virtuosity that will make you smile.
Finally, Faulkner uses the novel as a vehicle whereby he can comment on racial and social inequality of his time and his anticipation of a better world ahead. Having just survived and witnessed the atrocities of National Socialism, Faulkner expands his egalitarian vision beyond the white and black of twentieth century American and includes in his dream all races and religions and ethnicities and a genuine hope for a better way to live.
Highly, highly recommended. Intruder in the Dust would be his last novel published before he accepted the 1949 Nobel Prize for literature, and though he would continue to write for another decade, many scholars see this period as the zenith of his creative genius.
January 7, 2021
Είναι βιβλίο του Φώκνερ, οπότε αναμφίβολα απολαυστικό στην ανάγνωσή του. Σίγουρα δεν ανήκει στις κορυφαίες στιγμές του – πρόκειται για ένα από τα έργα της ύστερης περιόδου, όπου ο μοναδικός τρόπος γραφής του έχει γίνει ελαφρώς μανιέρα.
Ταυτόχρονα δεν λείπει και ο διδακτισμός σε σημεία (ο θείος-δικηγόρος δεν αποφεύγει κάποια λογίδρια περί ρατσισμού), ο οποίος αφαιρεί κάτι από την εσωτερική δύναμη που εκπέμπει ο λόγος του μεγάλου Δημιουργού.
Λεπτομέρειες, βέβαια, θα πει κάποιος. Ας μου συγχωρεθεί, καθότι αφενός ζω και αναπνέω με Φώκνερ και αφετέρου η μεγάλη τέχνη πάντα κρύβεται στη λεπτομέρεια.
Ταυτόχρονα δεν λείπει και ο διδακτισμός σε σημεία (ο θείος-δικηγόρος δεν αποφεύγει κάποια λογίδρια περί ρατσισμού), ο οποίος αφαιρεί κάτι από την εσωτερική δύναμη που εκπέμπει ο λόγος του μεγάλου Δημιουργού.
Λεπτομέρειες, βέβαια, θα πει κάποιος. Ας μου συγχωρεθεί, καθότι αφενός ζω και αναπνέω με Φώκνερ και αφετέρου η μεγάλη τέχνη πάντα κρύβεται στη λεπτομέρεια.
April 21, 2025
In this dark, Southern Gothic masterpiece, William Faulkner examines the tangled roots of racial prejudice through the eyes of Charles "Chick" Mallison, a white adolescent whose life is forever altered when Lucas Beauchamp—a proud Black man who refuses to act subservient—saves him from drowning. The debt of gratitude turns into a moral crucible when Lucas is wrongfully accused of murdering a white man, and the town of Jefferson, Mississippi salivates for a lynching.
"Don't bother to see. Don't even bother to not forget it. Just don't stop," Uncle Gavin advises Chick, emboldening the boy to join forces with his Black friend Aleck Sander and elderly spinster Miss Habersham to exhume a grave at midnight—a ghoulish escapade that yields shocking evidence of Lucas's innocence. The trio's nocturnal detective work forces a community steeped in hatred to confront its savage impulses, as Faulkner's prose swirls like Mississippi floodwaters through consciousness and time, revealing how "the pursuer is what is doing the running and tomorrow night is… the same as this night."
Faulkner's linguistic pyrotechnics—his sentences unfurling like kudzu vines across paragraphs—transform this murder mystery into a meditation on Southern culpability.
When Chick brings Lucas food in jail, the prisoner's dignified refusal to be pitied forces the boy to recognize his own complicity in systemic racism. The shocking grave-robbing scene leads to a frantic race against time and mob justice.
Miss Habersham's confrontation with the sheriff ("Where you trying to go, lady?" "I'm trying to get to Jefferson." "Jefferson's behind you, lady") injects comic relief into mounting tension. Lucas's unshakeable composure in the face of death—"a man doesn't have to be a coward in order to be afraid"—stands as a monument to human dignity. Uncle Gavin's morally ambiguous lectures on Southern self-reckoning ("The injustice is ours, the South's. We must expiate and abolish it ourselves") challenge readers to interrogate their own prejudices.
The moment when Chick confronts the "composite Face" of the lynch mob demonstrates how Faulkner can turn a crowd into a single, monstrous entity, while the discovery of the true murderer's identity exposes how racism renders truth invisible even when it stands in plain sight. (Sounds familiar, Columbia? NYU?)
Published in 1948, this judicial whodunit anticipates the civil rights movement by exposing how justice for Black Americans often depends on white willingness to "dig up" uncomfortable truths. Faulkner, that whiskey-soaked Nobel laureate who transformed his fictional Yoknapatawpha County into America's moral microcosm, creates in Lucas Beauchamp an unforgettable character who refuses to be diminished—a figure reminiscent of Sophocles' defiant Antigone but speaking in the cadences of the American South.
One minute Faulkner unloads a cryptic stream of consciousness profundity: “the very mutual words they used would no longer have the same significance and soon after that even this would be gone because they would be too far asunder even to hear one another: only the massed uncountable faces looking down at him and his in fading amazement and outrage and frustration…”
Then he effortlessly switches into folksy wisdom, blending colloquial speech with philosophical insight: “You mought bear this in yo mind; someday you mought need it. If you ever… aint cluttered. They can listen. But a middle-year man like your paw and your uncle, they cant listen.”
The novel's examination of how "truth was universal" yet selectively applied resonates with Kafka's "The Trial" and anticipates Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird," though Faulkner's labyrinthine style makes both seem straightforward by comparison.
The novel's moral complexities transcend national boundaries while remaining rooted in distinctly American soil. I rate this frustrating, difficult, genius and haunting examination of conscience five stars for its unflinching portrayal of how justice requires not just legal process but spiritual awakening.
As we witness Chick's transformation from indebted child to moral agent, we learn what Faulkner knew all along: that the true "intruder" in this dust isn't Lucas, but rather the uncomfortable truth that, as humans facing injustice, "the scattered indestructible uninfusable grounds" of moral responsibility will follow us "into the shoes we will have to walk in and even the sheets we will have (or try) to sleep between."
"Don't bother to see. Don't even bother to not forget it. Just don't stop," Uncle Gavin advises Chick, emboldening the boy to join forces with his Black friend Aleck Sander and elderly spinster Miss Habersham to exhume a grave at midnight—a ghoulish escapade that yields shocking evidence of Lucas's innocence. The trio's nocturnal detective work forces a community steeped in hatred to confront its savage impulses, as Faulkner's prose swirls like Mississippi floodwaters through consciousness and time, revealing how "the pursuer is what is doing the running and tomorrow night is… the same as this night."
Faulkner's linguistic pyrotechnics—his sentences unfurling like kudzu vines across paragraphs—transform this murder mystery into a meditation on Southern culpability.
When Chick brings Lucas food in jail, the prisoner's dignified refusal to be pitied forces the boy to recognize his own complicity in systemic racism. The shocking grave-robbing scene leads to a frantic race against time and mob justice.
Miss Habersham's confrontation with the sheriff ("Where you trying to go, lady?" "I'm trying to get to Jefferson." "Jefferson's behind you, lady") injects comic relief into mounting tension. Lucas's unshakeable composure in the face of death—"a man doesn't have to be a coward in order to be afraid"—stands as a monument to human dignity. Uncle Gavin's morally ambiguous lectures on Southern self-reckoning ("The injustice is ours, the South's. We must expiate and abolish it ourselves") challenge readers to interrogate their own prejudices.
The moment when Chick confronts the "composite Face" of the lynch mob demonstrates how Faulkner can turn a crowd into a single, monstrous entity, while the discovery of the true murderer's identity exposes how racism renders truth invisible even when it stands in plain sight. (Sounds familiar, Columbia? NYU?)
Published in 1948, this judicial whodunit anticipates the civil rights movement by exposing how justice for Black Americans often depends on white willingness to "dig up" uncomfortable truths. Faulkner, that whiskey-soaked Nobel laureate who transformed his fictional Yoknapatawpha County into America's moral microcosm, creates in Lucas Beauchamp an unforgettable character who refuses to be diminished—a figure reminiscent of Sophocles' defiant Antigone but speaking in the cadences of the American South.
One minute Faulkner unloads a cryptic stream of consciousness profundity: “the very mutual words they used would no longer have the same significance and soon after that even this would be gone because they would be too far asunder even to hear one another: only the massed uncountable faces looking down at him and his in fading amazement and outrage and frustration…”
Then he effortlessly switches into folksy wisdom, blending colloquial speech with philosophical insight: “You mought bear this in yo mind; someday you mought need it. If you ever… aint cluttered. They can listen. But a middle-year man like your paw and your uncle, they cant listen.”
The novel's examination of how "truth was universal" yet selectively applied resonates with Kafka's "The Trial" and anticipates Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird," though Faulkner's labyrinthine style makes both seem straightforward by comparison.
The novel's moral complexities transcend national boundaries while remaining rooted in distinctly American soil. I rate this frustrating, difficult, genius and haunting examination of conscience five stars for its unflinching portrayal of how justice requires not just legal process but spiritual awakening.
As we witness Chick's transformation from indebted child to moral agent, we learn what Faulkner knew all along: that the true "intruder" in this dust isn't Lucas, but rather the uncomfortable truth that, as humans facing injustice, "the scattered indestructible uninfusable grounds" of moral responsibility will follow us "into the shoes we will have to walk in and even the sheets we will have (or try) to sleep between."
November 15, 2022
There are many dimensions to Faulkner's 1948 novel Intruder in the Dust, including his own intent to write a murder mystery that also developed his belief that southern whites owed a debt to blacks that must be paid by themselves without interference from the North or the federal government. It's a manageable introduction to his stream of consciousness writing technique, a bildungsroman of Chip Mallison's moral development in dialog with his uncle, Gavin Stevens, a lawyer, and a great read to compare and contrast with Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird.
Two of the most compelling characters, both of the book and the excellent 1949 movie, are the biracial Lucas Beauchamp, suspected of shooting Vinson Gowrie and expected to be lynched as the story begins, and Miss Eunice Habersham, spinster descendant of one of Jefferson, Mississippi's founders, who joins Chip and Aleck Sander, son of the Mallison family's black cook Paralee, to try to save Lucas' life. James Baldwin, although famously critical of Faulkner's go-slow advice to the civil rights movement, lauded the movie.
This is one of my favorite books and it sits comfortably on the shelf next to another mess of a story, Robert Penn Warren's All the King's Men.
Two of the most compelling characters, both of the book and the excellent 1949 movie, are the biracial Lucas Beauchamp, suspected of shooting Vinson Gowrie and expected to be lynched as the story begins, and Miss Eunice Habersham, spinster descendant of one of Jefferson, Mississippi's founders, who joins Chip and Aleck Sander, son of the Mallison family's black cook Paralee, to try to save Lucas' life. James Baldwin, although famously critical of Faulkner's go-slow advice to the civil rights movement, lauded the movie.
This is one of my favorite books and it sits comfortably on the shelf next to another mess of a story, Robert Penn Warren's All the King's Men.
March 7, 2016
Faulkner is one of my favorite authors and, although this is not one of my favorite of his books, it has so many powerful offerings, I have overlooked the occasional polemics (instead of conversation between characters) to give it a very good rating. It's heart is in the right place and most of the writing is too.
Lucas Beauchamp has been arrested for the murder of a white man; for shooting him in the back of all things! And there the story would lie except that a white boy, an older white woman and a black boy decide to look into his story and uncork a genie's bottle.The adventure tale/mystery is rather fun and exciting at times with the outcome not clear until the very end. The truths about human nature that Faulkner/Gavin Stevens provides are elemental, honest, not pretty, but highly educational.
Yes some things you must always be unable to bear. Some
things you must never stop refusing to bear. Injustice and
outrage and dishonor and shame. No matter how young you
are or how old you have got. Not for kudos and not for cash:
your picture in the paper nor money in the bank either. Just
refuse to bear them. (loc 2803)
My only real concern about this novel is the amount of time given to "speechifying." I wonder if this is because it is later in Faulkner's work and he continues to see the same problems/errors/sins being repeated over and over around him. Perhaps he felt the need to speak out more forcefully here through Stevens' mouth to young Chick's ear. This boy is the future of the South perhaps, the future of Faulkner's county.
Lucas Beauchamp has been arrested for the murder of a white man; for shooting him in the back of all things! And there the story would lie except that a white boy, an older white woman and a black boy decide to look into his story and uncork a genie's bottle.The adventure tale/mystery is rather fun and exciting at times with the outcome not clear until the very end. The truths about human nature that Faulkner/Gavin Stevens provides are elemental, honest, not pretty, but highly educational.
Yes some things you must always be unable to bear. Some
things you must never stop refusing to bear. Injustice and
outrage and dishonor and shame. No matter how young you
are or how old you have got. Not for kudos and not for cash:
your picture in the paper nor money in the bank either. Just
refuse to bear them. (loc 2803)
My only real concern about this novel is the amount of time given to "speechifying." I wonder if this is because it is later in Faulkner's work and he continues to see the same problems/errors/sins being repeated over and over around him. Perhaps he felt the need to speak out more forcefully here through Stevens' mouth to young Chick's ear. This boy is the future of the South perhaps, the future of Faulkner's county.
December 12, 2017
".. καποια πραγματα πρεπει παντα να σου 'ναι ανυποφορα.καποια πραγματα δεν πρεπει ποτέ να παψεις ν'αρνεισαι να τα υποφερεις.την αδικια και την αγανακτηση και την ατιμια και την ντροπη.οσο νεος και να 'σαι ή οσο γέρος και να χεις φτασει.οχι για τα συγχαρικια κι ουτε για τα μετρητα: για την εικονα σου στην εφημεριδα μητε για λεφτα στην τραπεζα καν.απλως ν'αρνεισαι να τα υποφερεις.....μα απλως μετανιωνε: μη ντρεπεσαι"
#ΦωκνερΛεωΚαιΚλαιω
#ΦωκνερΛεωΚαιΚλαιω
July 3, 2025
نمیدونم چون این چند وقت تمرکز نداشتم زیاد دوسش نداشتم ، یا چون جذبم نمیکرد تمرکز نداشتم. شاید هم چون کتاب های دیگه ی عمو ویلیام سطح انتظارات منو بالا برده بود.
داستان با هدف مبارزه با نژاد پرستی نوشته شده ، لوکاس بیچام که یه سیاهپوست جنتلمن و مغرور و کله شقه که نه تنها با سفید پوست ها بلکه با انسان های هم نژاد خودش هم متفاوته : چون غرور و استقلالش رو حفظ کرده و در برابر بقیه سر تعظیم فرود نمیاره (توی یکی از داستان های کتاب برخیز ای موسی هم حضور داشت) لوکاس به اتهام قتل یک سفید پوست بازداشت میشه. و یه نوجوان ۱۶ ساله که از بچگی ارادت خاصی بهش داشته تنها کسی هست که حرف لوکاس رو باور میکنه و میفته دنبال این که ثابت کنه لوکاس بی گناهه.
منظور فاکنر از اسم کتاب (Intruder in the dust) هم میتونه لوکاس باشه که مثل یه مزاحم و ناخوانده برای جامعه ی قرن بیستم میسیسیپی محسوب میشه که نه در دسته ی برده های سیاه پوست قرار میگیره و نه در دسته ی سفیدپوست ها و هم میتونه چیک مالیسون ۱۶ ساله باشه که نماد وجدان و عدالت در جامعه ی غبار گرفته و نژاد پرست جنوب امریکاست.
ترجمه بد نبود، چند مورد اشتباهات املایی وجود داشت و چون دیگه
تجدید چاپ نشد اصلاح نشده. من ترجمه های دیگه ای از این کتاب توی سایت ها و کتابفروشی ها ندیدم.
«درست مثل این بود که انسان سال ها از چیزی بترسد و از آن دوری کند و آن قدر این کار را ادامه دهد که تمام زندگی اش را اشغال کند و بعد با وجود تمام اینها آنچه را که این همه مدت از آن می ترسیده، سرش بیاید و حالا تنها چیزی که برایش باقی بماند درد و رنج باشد و با وجود این بالاخره همه چیز تمام بشود و انسان به خود بگوید خیلی خب حالا چه باید کرد.»
- از متن کتاب
تیرماه ۱۴۰۴
داستان با هدف مبارزه با نژاد پرستی نوشته شده ، لوکاس بیچام که یه سیاهپوست جنتلمن و مغرور و کله شقه که نه تنها با سفید پوست ها بلکه با انسان های هم نژاد خودش هم متفاوته : چون غرور و استقلالش رو حفظ کرده و در برابر بقیه سر تعظیم فرود نمیاره (توی یکی از داستان های کتاب برخیز ای موسی هم حضور داشت) لوکاس به اتهام قتل یک سفید پوست بازداشت میشه. و یه نوجوان ۱۶ ساله که از بچگی ارادت خاصی بهش داشته تنها کسی هست که حرف لوکاس رو باور میکنه و میفته دنبال این که ثابت کنه لوکاس بی گناهه.
منظور فاکنر از اسم کتاب (Intruder in the dust) هم میتونه لوکاس باشه که مثل یه مزاحم و ناخوانده برای جامعه ی قرن بیستم میسیسیپی محسوب میشه که نه در دسته ی برده های سیاه پوست قرار میگیره و نه در دسته ی سفیدپوست ها و هم میتونه چیک مالیسون ۱۶ ساله باشه که نماد وجدان و عدالت در جامعه ی غبار گرفته و نژاد پرست جنوب امریکاست.
ترجمه بد نبود، چند مورد اشتباهات املایی وجود داشت و چون دیگه
تجدید چاپ نشد اصلاح نشده. من ترجمه های دیگه ای از این کتاب توی سایت ها و کتابفروشی ها ندیدم.
«درست مثل این بود که انسان سال ها از چیزی بترسد و از آن دوری کند و آن قدر این کار را ادامه دهد که تمام زندگی اش را اشغال کند و بعد با وجود تمام اینها آنچه را که این همه مدت از آن می ترسیده، سرش بیاید و حالا تنها چیزی که برایش باقی بماند درد و رنج باشد و با وجود این بالاخره همه چیز تمام بشود و انسان به خود بگوید خیلی خب حالا چه باید کرد.»
- از متن کتاب
تیرماه ۱۴۰۴
August 4, 2019
Θα ξεκινήσω λίγο περίεργα, αλλά ελπίζω ότι όσοι γνωρίζουν πόσο με παθιάζει ο Μπροχ, θα το δικαιολογήσουν, έστω και λίγο. Καθ’ όλη τη διάρκεια που διάβαζα αυτό το βιβλίο, μου ήταν αδύνατο να μη σκέφτομαι ότι τα τελευταία χρόνια της ζωής του τα πέρασε στα μέρη που κινούνταν ο Φώκνερ, του οποίου το συγγραφικό ύφος κι ο μακροπερίοδος λόγος, θυμίζουν το Μπροχ. Επίσης, όταν βρέθηκε ο Μπροχ για πρώτη φορά στην Αμερική, το 1942, ο Φώκνερ ολοκλήρωσε το Go Down Moses. Δεν υπονοώ απολύτως τίποτα. Αλλά επειδή δεν είναι όλοι μ@λάκες κι επειδή δεν θεωρώ τέτοιο ούτε το Φώκνερ, θεωρώ αδύνατο να μην είχαν γνωριστεί. Ήθελα να γράψω αυτά, όχι για κανέναν άλλο λόγο, ούτε να υπονοήσω πως ο Φώκνερ αντιγράφει το Μπροχ. Κανένας δε μπορεί να αντιγράψει το Μπροχ, όπως κανένας δε μπορεί να αντιγράψει το Φώκνερ, ή το Μπέρνχαρτ. Εδώ και περισσότερο από αλλού, λάμπει αυτή η τρομερά μοντέρνα σύλληψη, του Γκαίτε, για τις Εκλεκτικές Συγγένειες.
<< τύπους που ο θείος του έλεγε ότι βρίσκεις, που δεν ηγούνταν στ’ αλήθεια όχλων ούτε καν τους πυροδοτούσαν μα που ήταν πάντοτε ο πυρήνας τους εξαιτίας της μαζικής τους διαθεσιμότητας >>
Κατά κάποιο τρόπο ο συγγραφέας, σου φυτεύει εικόνες, όχι από κάτι που υπάρχει στο βιβλίο, αλλά από ιδέες που σχηματοποιούνται σε δικά σου οπτικά σενάρια κι ιδέες που ταιριάζουν με ψήγματα της ζωής σου κι ό,τι σου γεννά η ιδέα – εικόνα, του συγγραφέα.
Μάνα και γιος.
Μια απ’ τις ομορφότερες χαρτογραφήσεις, που δε χωρά ούτε μια περισσότερη, λέξη. Και με τη μόνη αποδεκτή γραφή, που θα μπορούσε, να χρησιμοποιηθεί. Χωρίς σαφή δομή, χωρίς φαινομενική υπακοή σε γραμματικούς κανόνες. Απέραντη γραφή, για μια απέραντη σχέση. Κι η μάνα, ποτέ δεν μπορεί να περιγραφεί και κανένας δε μπορεί να στην περιγράψει, αλλά ξέρεις. Με όλο σου το είναι, ξέρεις. Ακόμα κι όταν, θυμώνεις, κι, όταν ντρέπεσαι, κι, όταν οργίζεσαι: πόσο πονά η αγάπη, πόσο πονά η έκφραση, πόσο πονά να βρεις τη δύναμη, να γίνεσαι λογικός.
Καμιά ανακοπή στο λόγο του συγγραφέα, κανένα φίλτρο σχετικότητας, σαν την ανάσα. Είναι αδύνατο να αναχαιτιστεί, τίποτα δε μπορεί να εμποδίσει τη σκόνη, τα ακάρεα, τα χνώτα, σαν το κοίταγμα. Μπορείς να εστιάσεις, να καρφώσεις με το βλέμμα, δεν παύεις να βλέπεις τα πάντα, ακόμα κι όσα συνειδητά δεν καταγράφονται.
<< Όλα συμβαίνουν στο τώρα βλέπεις. Το χτες δε θα τελειώσει μέχρι το αύριο και το αύριο άρχισε πριν από δέκα χιλιετίες >>
Επιβάλλεται στον αναγνώστη των Κοτσυφιών, να διαβάσει το Ξένο στο χώμα. Για να ενηλικιωθεί. Όσο δύσκολο κι αν το κάνει αυτή η απλωσιά στο λόγο, η ασάφεια στη δομή, η ταυτόχρονη, ασυγκρότητη ( ; ), ασυγκράτητη, ύπαρξη, κάθε παράστασης, ως ιδέα και το μουσικό κύμα, που ποτέ δε σκάει γρήγορα, αυτό ειδικά που θυμίζει το Μπροχ, μα που αν ήταν πιο σαφές και αψύ, θα προανήγγειλε τον Πύντσον κι αν ήταν πιο αμβλύ, θα χαιρετούσε, το Στάϊνμπεκ. Εξαιρετικά δύσκολο, με ένα συγγραφέα που παρατάει την αφήγηση, για να σου απευθυνθεί και σ’ αφήνει κι εσένα για να χαϊδέψει τους χαρακτήρες του, να τους βάλει να μιλήσουν με τις ιδέες του, να εκτοξεύσουν τις εικόνες του και γυρνά σ’ εσένα για να σου πει, πως αυτοί όλοι που βλέπεις να κινούνται, να δρουν, να υπάρχουν ως κύριοι ή ως περιβάλλον και ποτέ δεν τους ακούς πραγματικά, γιατί πάντα ακούς το συγγραφέα κι ίσως αυτό να μοιάζει μειονέκτημα, αλλά δεν είναι μειονέκτημα, γιατί προτάσσει ένα στήθος, για να σου μιλήσει για κάτι μεγαλύτερο, για την ομοιογένεια εκείνη των ανθρώπων που μοιάζουν με ένα σώμα, όχι γιατί λένε τα ίδια, ούτε γιατί δεν έχουν προσωπική φωνή και μοιάζουν ενιαίοι, αλλά γιατί ακριβώς μόνο μαζί μπορούν να εξελιχτούν, να προχωρήσουν, κι, αυτό που μοιάζει με μια χελώνα που κινείται αργά, λίγο μπρος, μετά λοξά κι ύστερα πίσω, σα να κυνηγά την ουρά που δεν έχει, μοιάζει με την παλάμη σου, που δεν είναι πραγματικά ενιαία, αλλά αποτελούμενη από μικροσωματίδια, ενωμένα κι απωθούμενα διαρκώς και είναι αυτό ακριβώς που πρέπει να είναι και ο Νότος ένα σώμα, που μαζί θα εξελιχτεί, απ’ τους λίγους, ή απ’ τους πολλούς, μαζί, λίγο μπροστά, μετά λοξά, πίσω και κυκλικά, θα πέσει κι ας μην πίστευες ότι ένα σώμα που είναι τόσο κοντά στο έδαφος και σχεδόν έρπει, έχει τη δυνατότητα να λυγίσει, ή να πέσει και να ξαπλώσει κι επειδή έχεις ξεχάσει πως έχει ένα καβούκι στο οποίο μπορεί να κουρνιάσει και να γίνει απρόσβλητη απ’ τον οποιονδήποτε και το οτιδήποτε δε μπορεί να κινηθεί υπογείως, το βλέπεις ξαφν��κά και τίποτα δεν κινείται και κάτι από κάτω την ανασηκώνει, όμως ακόμα παραμένει εκεί που είναι, δεν το ξέρεις αν πονά, ή αν προσβάλλεται, δεν το ξέρεις αν πιέζεται, δεν ξέρεις απολύτως τίποτα, ξέρεις μόνο πως πάλι ο συγγραφέας σε πάει κάπου άλλου και ξέρεις μόνο πως όλοι αυτοί οι χαρακτήρες είναι αδύνατο να μην είναι υπαρκτοί, μα είναι γιατί θα ζήσουν για πάντα εδώ μέσα και θα ζεις κι εσύ μαζί τους και κατά τους και με το συγγραφέα, αιχμάλωτος και φίλος, θα είναι το μυστικό που μοιράζεστε κι όπως όλα τα μυστικά θα είστε αιχμάλωτοι του, όπως ήταν κι ο συγγραφέας κι ο κόσμος όλος.
<< Μα όχι όλοι μαζί συγχρόνως διότι υπάρχει ένα απλό αριθμητικό σημείο στο οποίο ο όχλος ακυρώνει και καταργεί εαυτόν, ίσως γιατί έχει γίνει τελικά υπερβολικά μεγάλος για το σκοτάδι, η σπηλιά όπου αναπαράχθηκε δεν αρκεί πλέον για να τον κρύψει από το φως κι έτσι επιτέλους είτε θέλει είτε όχι πρέπει να αντικρίσει τον εαυτό του, ή ίσως επειδή η ποσότητα αίματος σ’ ένα μονάχα ανθρώπινο κορμί δε φτάνει πλέον, όπως ένα φιστίκι μπορεί να εξάψει έναν ελέφαντα μα όχι δύο ή δέκα. Ή ίσως να φταίει το ότι ο άνθρωπος έχοντας μεταβεί σε όχλο μεταβαίνει κατόπιν σε μάζα που καταργεί τον όχλο δι’ απορρόφησης, δια μεταβολισμού, κατόπιν έχοντας γίνει υπερβολικά μεγάλη ακόμα και για μάζα γίνεται άνθρωπος ξανά ικανός να συλλάβει το έλεος και τη δικαιοσύνη και τη συνείδηση ακόμα κι έστω μοναχά από την ανάκληση της μακράς οδυνηρής φιλόδοξης πορείας προς αυτές, προς αυτό το κάτι τέλος πάντων, κάποιου γαλήνιου πανανθρώπινου φωτός >>
Ένας απόλυτα αξιοπρεπής μαύρος παππούς που σώζει ένα παιδί σε κάποιο ρέμα, επειδή το θίγει κι αρνείται κάθε ευχαριστία, κάθε ανταπόδοση, αντιστρέφει τα δώρα που επιλέγει πότε θα σταματήσει να χαιρετά στην πόλη, γίνεται η νέμεση του παιδιού, κάποιος στον οποίο οφείλει ένα λόγο, κάποιος που δεν το αφήνει να τιμολογήσει την πράξη του και να μπορεί να την εξοφλήσει. Γίνεται κάποιος για τον οποίο πλάθει σενάρια, που φοβάται πως δε θα σταματήσει να τον χαιρετά κι έχει ήδη σταματήσει και μ’ έναν αδιευκρίνιστο τρόπο, σου είπε ο συγγραφέας, πως το αντιλήφθηκε ο γέρος στο παιδί κι επιβάλλει στο παιδί να του χρωστά, ένα δεύτερο χρέος πια, την απελευθέρωση του. Και τίποτα δε λήγει, ώσπου να έρθει μια ακόμα, μια τελευταία, θριαμβευτική πρόσκληση, να ξαναβρεθούν στο ρέμα.
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Κατά κάποιο τρόπο ο συγγραφέας, σου φυτεύει εικόνες, όχι από κάτι που υπάρχει στο βιβλίο, αλλά από ιδέες που σχηματοποιούνται σε δικά σου οπτικά σενάρια κι ιδέες που ταιριάζουν με ψήγματα της ζωής σου κι ό,τι σου γεννά η ιδέα – εικόνα, του συγγραφέα.
Μάνα και γιος.
Μια απ’ τις ομορφότερες χαρτογραφήσεις, που δε χωρά ούτε μια περισσότερη, λέξη. Και με τη μόνη αποδεκτή γραφή, που θα μπορούσε, να χρησιμοποιηθεί. Χωρίς σαφή δομή, χωρίς φαινομενική υπακοή σε γραμματικούς κανόνες. Απέραντη γραφή, για μια απέραντη σχέση. Κι η μάνα, ποτέ δεν μπορεί να περιγραφεί και κανένας δε μπορεί να στην περιγράψει, αλλά ξέρεις. Με όλο σου το είναι, ξέρεις. Ακόμα κι όταν, θυμώνεις, κι, όταν ντρέπεσαι, κι, όταν οργίζεσαι: πόσο πονά η αγάπη, πόσο πονά η έκφραση, πόσο πονά να βρεις τη δύναμη, να γίνεσαι λογικός.
Καμιά ανακοπή στο λόγο του συγγραφέα, κανένα φίλτρο σχετικότητας, σαν την ανάσα. Είναι αδύνατο να αναχαιτιστεί, τίποτα δε μπορεί να εμποδίσει τη σκόνη, τα ακάρεα, τα χνώτα, σαν το κοίταγμα. Μπορείς να εστιάσεις, να καρφώσεις με το βλέμμα, δεν παύεις να βλέπεις τα πάντα, ακόμα κι όσα συνειδητά δεν καταγράφονται.
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Επιβάλλεται στον αναγνώστη των Κοτσυφιών, να διαβάσει το Ξένο στο χώμα. Για να ενηλικιωθεί. Όσο δύσκολο κι αν το κάνει αυτή η απλωσιά στο λόγο, η ασάφεια στη δομή, η ταυτόχρονη, ασυγκρότητη ( ; ), ασυγκράτητη, ύπαρξη, κάθε παράστασης, ως ιδέα και το μουσικό κύμα, που ποτέ δε σκάει γρήγορα, αυτό ειδικά που θυμίζει το Μπροχ, μα που αν ήταν πιο σαφές και αψύ, θα προανήγγειλε τον Πύντσον κι αν ήταν πιο αμβλύ, θα χαιρετούσε, το Στάϊνμπεκ. Εξαιρετικά δύσκολο, με ένα συγγραφέα που παρατάει την αφήγηση, για να σου απευθυνθεί και σ’ αφήνει κι εσένα για να χαϊδέψει τους χαρακτήρες του, να τους βάλει να μιλήσουν με τις ιδέες του, να εκτοξεύσουν τις εικόνες του και γυρνά σ’ εσένα για να σου πει, πως αυτοί όλοι που βλέπεις να κινούνται, να δρουν, να υπάρχουν ως κύριοι ή ως περιβάλλον και ποτέ δεν τους ακούς πραγματικά, γιατί πάντα ακούς το συγγραφέα κι ίσως αυτό να μοιάζει μειονέκτημα, αλλά δεν είναι μειονέκτημα, γιατί προτάσσει ένα στήθος, για να σου μιλήσει για κάτι μεγαλύτερο, για την ομοιογένεια εκείνη των ανθρώπων που μοιάζουν με ένα σώμα, όχι γιατί λένε τα ίδια, ούτε γιατί δεν έχουν προσωπική φωνή και μοιάζουν ενιαίοι, αλλά γιατί ακριβώς μόνο μαζί μπορούν να εξελιχτούν, να προχωρήσουν, κι, αυτό που μοιάζει με μια χελώνα που κινείται αργά, λίγο μπρος, μετά λοξά κι ύστερα πίσω, σα να κυνηγά την ουρά που δεν έχει, μοιάζει με την παλάμη σου, που δεν είναι πραγματικά ενιαία, αλλά αποτελούμενη από μικροσωματίδια, ενωμένα κι απωθούμενα διαρκώς και είναι αυτό ακριβώς που πρέπει να είναι και ο Νότος ένα σώμα, που μαζί θα εξελιχτεί, απ’ τους λίγους, ή απ’ τους πολλούς, μαζί, λίγο μπροστά, μετά λοξά, πίσω και κυκλικά, θα πέσει κι ας μην πίστευες ότι ένα σώμα που είναι τόσο κοντά στο έδαφος και σχεδόν έρπει, έχει τη δυνατότητα να λυγίσει, ή να πέσει και να ξαπλώσει κι επειδή έχεις ξεχάσει πως έχει ένα καβούκι στο οποίο μπορεί να κουρνιάσει και να γίνει απρόσβλητη απ’ τον οποιονδήποτε και το οτιδήποτε δε μπορεί να κινηθεί υπογείως, το βλέπεις ξαφν��κά και τίποτα δεν κινείται και κάτι από κάτω την ανασηκώνει, όμως ακόμα παραμένει εκεί που είναι, δεν το ξέρεις αν πονά, ή αν προσβάλλεται, δεν το ξέρεις αν πιέζεται, δεν ξέρεις απολύτως τίποτα, ξέρεις μόνο πως πάλι ο συγγραφέας σε πάει κάπου άλλου και ξέρεις μόνο πως όλοι αυτοί οι χαρακτήρες είναι αδύνατο να μην είναι υπαρκτοί, μα είναι γιατί θα ζήσουν για πάντα εδώ μέσα και θα ζεις κι εσύ μαζί τους και κατά τους και με το συγγραφέα, αιχμάλωτος και φίλος, θα είναι το μυστικό που μοιράζεστε κι όπως όλα τα μυστικά θα είστε αιχμάλωτοι του, όπως ήταν κι ο συγγραφέας κι ο κόσμος όλος.
<< Μα όχι όλοι μαζί συγχρόνως διότι υπάρχει ένα απλό αριθμητικό σημείο στο οποίο ο όχλος ακυρώνει και καταργεί εαυτόν, ίσως γιατί έχει γίνει τελικά υπερβολικά μεγάλος για το σκοτάδι, η σπηλιά όπου αναπαράχθηκε δεν αρκεί πλέον για να τον κρύψει από το φως κι έτσι επιτέλους είτε θέλει είτε όχι πρέπει να αντικρίσει τον εαυτό του, ή ίσως επειδή η ποσότητα αίματος σ’ ένα μονάχα ανθρώπινο κορμί δε φτάνει πλέον, όπως ένα φιστίκι μπορεί να εξάψει έναν ελέφαντα μα όχι δύο ή δέκα. Ή ίσως να φταίει το ότι ο άνθρωπος έχοντας μεταβεί σε όχλο μεταβαίνει κατόπιν σε μάζα που καταργεί τον όχλο δι’ απορρόφησης, δια μεταβολισμού, κατόπιν έχοντας γίνει υπερβολικά μεγάλη ακόμα και για μάζα γίνεται άνθρωπος ξανά ικανός να συλλάβει το έλεος και τη δικαιοσύνη και τη συνείδηση ακόμα κι έστω μοναχά από την ανάκληση της μακράς οδυνηρής φιλόδοξης πορείας προς αυτές, προς αυτό το κάτι τέλος πάντων, κάποιου γαλήνιου πανανθρώπινου φωτός >>
Ένας απόλυτα αξιοπρεπής μαύρος παππούς που σώζει ένα παιδί σε κάποιο ρέμα, επειδή το θίγει κι αρνείται κάθε ευχαριστία, κάθε ανταπόδοση, αντιστρέφει τα δώρα που επιλέγει πότε θα σταματήσει να χαιρετά στην πόλη, γίνεται η νέμεση του παιδιού, κάποιος στον οποίο οφείλει ένα λόγο, κάποιος που δεν το αφήνει να τιμολογήσει την πράξη του και να μπορεί να την εξοφλήσει. Γίνεται κάποιος για τον οποίο πλάθει σενάρια, που φοβάται πως δε θα σταματήσει να τον χαιρετά κι έχει ήδη σταματήσει και μ’ έναν αδιευκρίνιστο τρόπο, σου είπε ο συγγραφέας, πως το αντιλήφθηκε ο γέρος στο παιδί κι επιβάλλει στο παιδί να του χρωστά, ένα δεύτερο χρέος πια, την απελευθέρωση του. Και τίποτα δε λήγει, ώσπου να έρθει μια ακόμα, μια τελευταία, θριαμβευτική πρόσκληση, να ξαναβρεθούν στο ρέμα.
January 1, 2009
Rereading this one I realized why I’ve never liked To Kill a Mockingbird (which I read after this one) as much as most people. Not that I don’t like Harper Lee’s novel, just that I see it as simpler, more straight forward and less ambiguous than Faulkner’s. Early in the 40ies Faulkner wrote to his publisher about a book he had in mind which would be a “blood-and-thunder mystery novel, original in that the solver is a negro, himself in jail for the murder and is about to be lynched, solves murder in self defense.” The main characters are Lucas Beauchamp—descended from white men as well as black—and Charles (Chick) Mallinson who’s 16 at the time of novel. Chick has been trading favors with Lucas for several years—ever since he fell through the ice one winter and Lucas gave him shelter, a fire to dry his clothes and some food. Chick has attempted to pay him—assuming it only right that a white man pay a black man for favors, but Lucas wouldn’t accept the money. Thereafter whenever Chick tried to reward Lucas, Lucas returned the favor until Chick was downright frustrated with his own attempts to do what he thought the code of his people required him to do.
Lucas, because he’s white as well as black though, refuses to be “taken care of” by whites. Time and again in the novel someone tells him “if you’d only behave like a black man”…. Lucas, though, absolutely refuses to “act like a black man” in a time when codes were clear and black and white coexisted pretty well as long as both played their proper roles.
The novel is at base a mystery novel, with Lucas accused of murder and the family of the dead man determined to burn him alive—but the same code that keeps black and white behavior in sync (and allows retaliation if a black man kills a white man) requires that they not do it on the Sabbath. Lucas is cursed for having committed a murder on a Saturday and making them wait. (There’s some humor in all these codes and breaking of codes!)
Chick—on the brink of manhood but still a child so that Lucas’ code allows him to talk to him where he won’t talk to his uncle, the attorney—recognizes both the possibility that Lucas is innocent and the essential “rightness” that he be treated as any other man before the law.
I have always bought into Faulkner’s sense that righting racial wrongs in this country is everyone’s responsibility (I’m thinking primarily of The Bear here), whether they’re Southern or not, even whether they’re new immigrants whose ancestors never lived here during slavery. His main idea in this novel has to do with the “code” that developed in the South—pre- and post-Civil War—and which required the white man to “take care” of the black man but which resisted any interference from outside the South, on the theory that, in its own time, the South (meaning of course the white South) would solve the discrimination problem without interference from the North or from the government. (Of course it didn’t play out the way that Faulkner would have liked—Northerners did “invade” the South in order to jump start the Civil Rights movement—and they met with violent resistance. But that was 20 years after the publication of this novel).
Lucas, because he’s white as well as black though, refuses to be “taken care of” by whites. Time and again in the novel someone tells him “if you’d only behave like a black man”…. Lucas, though, absolutely refuses to “act like a black man” in a time when codes were clear and black and white coexisted pretty well as long as both played their proper roles.
The novel is at base a mystery novel, with Lucas accused of murder and the family of the dead man determined to burn him alive—but the same code that keeps black and white behavior in sync (and allows retaliation if a black man kills a white man) requires that they not do it on the Sabbath. Lucas is cursed for having committed a murder on a Saturday and making them wait. (There’s some humor in all these codes and breaking of codes!)
Chick—on the brink of manhood but still a child so that Lucas’ code allows him to talk to him where he won’t talk to his uncle, the attorney—recognizes both the possibility that Lucas is innocent and the essential “rightness” that he be treated as any other man before the law.
I have always bought into Faulkner’s sense that righting racial wrongs in this country is everyone’s responsibility (I’m thinking primarily of The Bear here), whether they’re Southern or not, even whether they’re new immigrants whose ancestors never lived here during slavery. His main idea in this novel has to do with the “code” that developed in the South—pre- and post-Civil War—and which required the white man to “take care” of the black man but which resisted any interference from outside the South, on the theory that, in its own time, the South (meaning of course the white South) would solve the discrimination problem without interference from the North or from the government. (Of course it didn’t play out the way that Faulkner would have liked—Northerners did “invade” the South in order to jump start the Civil Rights movement—and they met with violent resistance. But that was 20 years after the publication of this novel).
June 25, 2017
داستان در مورد سیاه پوستی است که ظاهرا جوان سفیدپوستی را به قتل رسانده است . مرد سیاه پوست از نوجوان سفیدپوستی می خواهد تا به او کمک کند و از راز قتل پرده بردارد .
ساده تر از رمان های قبلی فاکنر بود . یک جورایی به نظرم معمولی بود در حد مثلا خشم و هیاهو یا آبشالوم آبشالوم نبود اما خوب بود . شخصیت مرد سیاه پوست داستان آقای لوکاس قبلا در برخیز ای موسی ظاهر شده است . در سال ۱۹۴۹ فیلم «ناخوانده در غبار» براساس رمانی از فاکنر با همین نام در آکسفورد فیلمبرداری شد، در این فیلم خوانو ارناندس، کلود ژارمن و الیزابت پترسن شرکت داشتند. در آن زمان فیلم جزو ده فیلم برگزیده نیویورک تایمز بود اما از نظر فروش گیشه خیلی ناموفق بود.
ساده تر از رمان های قبلی فاکنر بود . یک جورایی به نظرم معمولی بود در حد مثلا خشم و هیاهو یا آبشالوم آبشالوم نبود اما خوب بود . شخصیت مرد سیاه پوست داستان آقای لوکاس قبلا در برخیز ای موسی ظاهر شده است . در سال ۱۹۴۹ فیلم «ناخوانده در غبار» براساس رمانی از فاکنر با همین نام در آکسفورد فیلمبرداری شد، در این فیلم خوانو ارناندس، کلود ژارمن و الیزابت پترسن شرکت داشتند. در آن زمان فیلم جزو ده فیلم برگزیده نیویورک تایمز بود اما از نظر فروش گیشه خیلی ناموفق بود.
August 15, 2018
I`ve rated this 4 stars because I really enjoyed the story and some wonderful characters, once I`d got my head around it! There seemed to be pages and pages of nothing (sorry Mr Faulkner) but rambling. This is the first book of his that I`ve read and others have told me that this is not the best one to start with. I may leave it a little while before trying another.
July 10, 2025
'Intruder in the Dust' can be described as a murder mystery, a coming-of-age novel and the novel examining the deep racial divisions and injustice in the American South in the 1930s or 1940s.
It was not an easy book to read with its dense, baroque text and stream of consciousness - sometimes I wondered where this or that long, winding sentence would end. However, this constant interior monologue helps to submerge into the psyche of the protagonist, Chick Mallison and see the inhabitants (Black and white ones) of the small Southern town through his eyes.
'Intruder in the Dust' is Faulkner's clear and powerful statement on the issue of the Southern rasism and its deep roots in the history and traditions of the white people in the American South. And the majority of these people want to live in the past when Black men (especially irritating ones, daring to possess dignity, like Lucas Beauchamp) are always presumed guilty (just because the colour of the skin) regardless of the circumstances.
Despite the abovementioned aspects, Faulkner's novel is suprisingly optimistic. The reason for that optimism is Chick Mallison's conscience and determination to do the right thing against all the odds. He is helped by Miss Habersham and Gavin Stevens' quiet and thankless commitment to justice. According to Faulkner, these people's courage gives hope for change.
'A man is the sum of his misfortunes. One day you'd think misfortune would get tired, but then time is your misfortune.'
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'They hate him because he does not apologize for his blackness.'
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'That was the South: a place where the past is not past.'
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'He walked like a king through a world that denied him every right.'
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
'They would kill him because they believed they had the right to.'
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
'The South grew old among its dead and dying ideals.'
It was not an easy book to read with its dense, baroque text and stream of consciousness - sometimes I wondered where this or that long, winding sentence would end. However, this constant interior monologue helps to submerge into the psyche of the protagonist, Chick Mallison and see the inhabitants (Black and white ones) of the small Southern town through his eyes.
'Intruder in the Dust' is Faulkner's clear and powerful statement on the issue of the Southern rasism and its deep roots in the history and traditions of the white people in the American South. And the majority of these people want to live in the past when Black men (especially irritating ones, daring to possess dignity, like Lucas Beauchamp) are always presumed guilty (just because the colour of the skin) regardless of the circumstances.
Despite the abovementioned aspects, Faulkner's novel is suprisingly optimistic. The reason for that optimism is Chick Mallison's conscience and determination to do the right thing against all the odds. He is helped by Miss Habersham and Gavin Stevens' quiet and thankless commitment to justice. According to Faulkner, these people's courage gives hope for change.
'A man is the sum of his misfortunes. One day you'd think misfortune would get tired, but then time is your misfortune.'
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
'They hate him because he does not apologize for his blackness.'
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
'That was the South: a place where the past is not past.'
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
'He walked like a king through a world that denied him every right.'
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
'They would kill him because they believed they had the right to.'
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
'The South grew old among its dead and dying ideals.'
August 23, 2022
Гениальность романа заключается не в потоке сознания, а в том, как Фолкнер подал проблему расизма. И не просто расизма, а его крайней формы - линчевания, самосуда со смертным приговором в жесточайших формах. Поразительно, но такие формы самосуда были ещё в 50-е годы двадцатого столетия, и даже в 60-е, мы видим в романе Харпер Ли. Фолкнер вскрывает лицемерие линчующих - не разобравшись в деле, они готовы заживо сжечь невиновного черного старика, но, когда выяснилось, что истинный убийца - белый, их гнев испарился. Линчующие не казнили днём, только ночью, чтобы не видеть лиц друг друга. Бессудное убийство было распространено везде и во всех обществах. Писатели разных эпох и стран поднимают гуманистические вопросы, и, тем самым привлекают общественное мнение к таким бесчеловечным преступлениям на почве ненависти и понять природу, почему люди способны на такие зверства.
Фолкнер буквально препарирует общество и анализирует мотивы и мнения людей. Как он сам говорит, он слишком хорошо знает белых южан.
Конечно, расизм не исчез, мы видим его проявления очень часто. Но заслуга Фолкнера в том, что он способствовал распространению антирасистского мировоззрения в американском и мировом сознании путем честного описания настроений и психологии белых южан. Это зеркало, которое показывает все как есть, без искажений и прикрас всю устрашающую уродливость расизма.
интересно наблюдение Фолкнера, что женщины и дети, обладают умением слушать и если хочешь сделать дело, нужно привлекать их. Он объясняет это меньшим количеством дел, в этом он ошибается; но он прав, что даже слабые могут сделать то, что сильные белые мужчины, у которых есть все права и вся сила, не смогут сделать.
Подросток Чик в этом потоке сознания меняется, как личность, его мировоззрение становится более справедливым, более человечным. Ещё показалось необычным, что оба и Чик, и старый Бичем, едва избежав смерти, пытаются отблагодарить деньгами.
Фолкнер буквально препарирует общество и анализирует мотивы и мнения людей. Как он сам говорит, он слишком хорошо знает белых южан.
Конечно, расизм не исчез, мы видим его проявления очень часто. Но заслуга Фолкнера в том, что он способствовал распространению антирасистского мировоззрения в американском и мировом сознании путем честного описания настроений и психологии белых южан. Это зеркало, которое показывает все как есть, без искажений и прикрас всю устрашающую уродливость расизма.
интересно наблюдение Фолкнера, что женщины и дети, обладают умением слушать и если хочешь сделать дело, нужно привлекать их. Он объясняет это меньшим количеством дел, в этом он ошибается; но он прав, что даже слабые могут сделать то, что сильные белые мужчины, у которых есть все права и вся сила, не смогут сделать.
Подросток Чик в этом потоке сознания меняется, как личность, его мировоззрение становится более справедливым, более человечным. Ещё показалось необычным, что оба и Чик, и старый Бичем, едва избежав смерти, пытаются отблагодарить деньгами.
February 13, 2016
This one brought back many of my favorite characters from Yoknapatawpha County. Lucas Beauchamp is one of a kind, a black man with an attitude; that attitude being that he is just as good (and maybe better than some) as any white man. This took a certain amount of courage in 1940's Mississippi. After being accused of murder, being found standing over the dead body of a white man with a smoking gun in his pocket, he is arrested, and the town prepares for a lynching. Enter Gavin Stevens, county lawyer, and his 16 year old nephew Chick Mallison. The plot proceeds in typical Faulkner fashion, told from Chick's point of view. Twisting, turning, weaving sentences and paragraphs into a tide of words and impressions that pull you in and spit you out 2 or 3 pages later, leaving you breathless and wondering what just happened in your head. Never mind, just keep reading, you'll figure it out eventually.
I really liked the women in this one, Miss Habersham and Chick's mother. You have to love a 70 year old spinster who'll help you dig up a dead body in the middle of the night. And Chick's realization of the strength, endurance, and wisdom of his mother was worth the price of the book for me. As Lucas said, "If you want something done, give it to a woman to do."
I couldn't have said it better myself.
Oh, and this book has a perfect ending. Faulkner's sense of humor at it's best.
I really liked the women in this one, Miss Habersham and Chick's mother. You have to love a 70 year old spinster who'll help you dig up a dead body in the middle of the night. And Chick's realization of the strength, endurance, and wisdom of his mother was worth the price of the book for me. As Lucas said, "If you want something done, give it to a woman to do."
I couldn't have said it better myself.
Oh, and this book has a perfect ending. Faulkner's sense of humor at it's best.
September 13, 2018
Intruder in the Dust is the first work that I have read by Nobel-prize winning author William Faulkner, but it certainly won't be the last. This book, published in 1948, centers around black man Lucas Beauchamp accused of murdering a white man and being held in protective custody to prevent his lynching. He ultimately is exonerated due to the efforts of two teenagers, one white and one black, and along with the aid of an elderly spinster. Throughout this novel, are echoes of the Civil War and the racial problems in the South. Written in a stream-of-consciousness format, it was difficult at first but I loved it once I got into the rhythm of this southern classic.
"If you got something outside the common run that's got to be done and can't wait, don't waste your time on the menfolks; they works on what your uncle calls the rules and the cases. Get the womens and the children at it; they works on the circumstances."
". . . . so that he didn't even need to remind himself in the absolute the utter the complete silence that the town was not dead nor even abandoned but only withdrawn giving room to do what homely thing must be done in its own homely way without help or interference or even (thank you) advice: three amateurs, an old white spinster and a white child and a black one to expose Lucas' would be murderer. . . ."
"If you got something outside the common run that's got to be done and can't wait, don't waste your time on the menfolks; they works on what your uncle calls the rules and the cases. Get the womens and the children at it; they works on the circumstances."
". . . . so that he didn't even need to remind himself in the absolute the utter the complete silence that the town was not dead nor even abandoned but only withdrawn giving room to do what homely thing must be done in its own homely way without help or interference or even (thank you) advice: three amateurs, an old white spinster and a white child and a black one to expose Lucas' would be murderer. . . ."
February 10, 2016
Well I'm done. I think the correct word is cadence, but I'll tell you what , I really have trouble getting into the rhythm of Faulkner's writing. Calling a Nobel and Pulitzer Prize winning author a rambler is probably a bit rude but to say his sentences just go on and on really is putting it mildly as many of them may or might not even perchance take up an entire that is to say possibly the complete page. And punctuation, (what do double parentheses mean?? )
'Nemmine that'
Easier to read than The Sound and Fury, I still considered this book a fair bit of homework.
Lucas Beauchamp is a proud black man who after being found with a fired weapon and the dead body of one Vinson Gowrie, a white man, is thrown in jail causing the townspeople to crowd around awaiting a lynching. Fortunately due to a previous good deed, young Chick Mallison owes him a favor and with the help of his Uncle Gavin Stevens the town attorney, "his boy " Aleck , and a 70 year old Miss Habersham, sets about to prove him innocent.
Written in 1948 as a commentary on racial injustice, you'll also find out about what menfolk love best which is , Yep you guessed it, their motor-cars.
'Nemmine that'
Easier to read than The Sound and Fury, I still considered this book a fair bit of homework.
Lucas Beauchamp is a proud black man who after being found with a fired weapon and the dead body of one Vinson Gowrie, a white man, is thrown in jail causing the townspeople to crowd around awaiting a lynching. Fortunately due to a previous good deed, young Chick Mallison owes him a favor and with the help of his Uncle Gavin Stevens the town attorney, "his boy " Aleck , and a 70 year old Miss Habersham, sets about to prove him innocent.
Written in 1948 as a commentary on racial injustice, you'll also find out about what menfolk love best which is , Yep you guessed it, their motor-cars.
December 26, 2020
ნიჩბის შეხებაზე ფხვიერი მიწის ხრაშუნი, ჩახშული, გააფთრებული, ხმაურიანი სუნთქვა, შუბლზე ერთმანეთის მიყოლებით გაჩენილი ოფლის წვრილ-წვრილი წვეთები, მაჯისცემის და გულისძგერის ხმა, ფიჭვის მძაფრი სურნელის შეგრძნება, ზურგზე დამბალი პერანგის სიცივე, ყველაფერი გესმის და ყველაფერს გრძნობ..
აკვირდები ყველაფერს გარდა მთავარი ამბისა, იმიტომ, რომ ფოლკნერია და იმიტომ, რომ არც ესაა კლასიკური სტილის დეტექტივი, რომლის წაკითხვისასაც სული მიგდის, სანამ არ გაიგებ მკვლელი ვინაა და წიგნს გაუაზრებლად ჩაათავებ სწორედ ამის სწრაფად გასაგებად. აქ პირიქითაა ყველაფერი, ისეა დაწერილი, რომ ალბათ, ყველაზე ნაკლებად ის გაინტერესებს, თუ ვინ აღმოჩნდება მკვლელი.
რასიზმის გაუმართლებლობაზე და საშინელებაზე ხომ დაგაფიქრებს და თან გაოცებული აკვირდები, ერთი შემთხვევის წყალობით, როგორ შეიძლება შეიცვალოს 16 წლის ბიჭი ერთ ღამეში..
თან ნამდვილად განსაკუთრებულ პერსონაჟებს რომ ხატავს ფოლკნერი, თითოეული შენდაუნებურად გიყვარს, თითოეულს გულით გულშემატკივრობ, ეგ ცალკე მნიშვნელოვანი ფაქტია.
აკვირდები ყველაფერს გარდა მთავარი ამბისა, იმიტომ, რომ ფოლკნერია და იმიტომ, რომ არც ესაა კლასიკური სტილის დეტექტივი, რომლის წაკითხვისასაც სული მიგდის, სანამ არ გაიგებ მკვლელი ვინაა და წიგნს გაუაზრებლად ჩაათავებ სწორედ ამის სწრაფად გასაგებად. აქ პირიქითაა ყველაფერი, ისეა დაწერილი, რომ ალბათ, ყველაზე ნაკლებად ის გაინტერესებს, თუ ვინ აღმოჩნდება მკვლელი.
რასიზმის გაუმართლებლობაზე და საშინელებაზე ხომ დაგაფიქრებს და თან გაოცებული აკვირდები, ერთი შემთხვევის წყალობით, როგორ შეიძლება შეიცვალოს 16 წლის ბიჭი ერთ ღამეში..
თან ნამდვილად განსაკუთრებულ პერსონაჟებს რომ ხატავს ფოლკნერი, თითოეული შენდაუნებურად გიყვარს, თითოეულს გულით გულშემატკივრობ, ეგ ცალკე მნიშვნელოვანი ფაქტია.
March 5, 2025
Un lungo flusso di coscienza in terza persona interrotto da pochi fatti e da qualche dialogo: non rimarrà tra i miei romanzi preferiti dell’amato Faulkner. Che lettura faticosa!
Highboy era ancora nervoso; a tenerlo a freno avrebbe finito per coprirsi inutilmente di sudore perciò siccome quella sera faceva fresco per il primo miglio riuscì a non perdere di vista le luci posteriori del furgone. Poi rallentò, le luci si allontanarono sempre più piccole e svanirono dietro a una curva e lui assestò Highboy su quella sua andatura strascicata tra la corsa e il passo che nessun giudice a una mostra avrebbe mai consentito ma che serviva a macinare miglia; ne restavano nove e lui pensò con una sorta di macabro divertimento che almeno avrebbe avuto il tempo di pensare, pensare che ormai era troppo tardi per pensare, e nessuno dei tre osava ormai pensare, e se avevano fatto una sola cosa quella sera se non altro era lasciarsi per sempre alle spalle ogni pensiero razionalizzazione contemplazione; a cinque miglia dalla città avrebbe attraversato (probabilmente la signorina Habersham e Aleck Sander lo avevano già fatto) la linea invisibile dell’agrimensore che demarcava il confine del Quarto Distretto: famigerato e quasi favoloso, e certamente quello a cui meno di tutto uno di loro adesso osava pensare, pensando che non era affatto difficile per un estraneo fare due cose insieme che al Quarto Distretto non sarebbero piaciute perché al Quarto Distretto non piaceva già a priori gran parte delle cose che la gente di città (e anche di quasi tutto il resto della contea se è per questo) faceva: ma che toccava a loro, un ragazzo bianco di sedici anni e uno negro della stessa età e una vecchia zitella bianca di settanta la scelta di fare allo stesso tempo le due cose che di tutto il vasto repertorio inventivo e potenziale dell’uomo il Quarto Distretto avrebbe ripudiato abbandonandosi alle ritorsioni più violente: violare la tomba di uno della sua progenie per sottrarre un assassino negro alla sua vendetta.
Highboy era ancora nervoso; a tenerlo a freno avrebbe finito per coprirsi inutilmente di sudore perciò siccome quella sera faceva fresco per il primo miglio riuscì a non perdere di vista le luci posteriori del furgone. Poi rallentò, le luci si allontanarono sempre più piccole e svanirono dietro a una curva e lui assestò Highboy su quella sua andatura strascicata tra la corsa e il passo che nessun giudice a una mostra avrebbe mai consentito ma che serviva a macinare miglia; ne restavano nove e lui pensò con una sorta di macabro divertimento che almeno avrebbe avuto il tempo di pensare, pensare che ormai era troppo tardi per pensare, e nessuno dei tre osava ormai pensare, e se avevano fatto una sola cosa quella sera se non altro era lasciarsi per sempre alle spalle ogni pensiero razionalizzazione contemplazione; a cinque miglia dalla città avrebbe attraversato (probabilmente la signorina Habersham e Aleck Sander lo avevano già fatto) la linea invisibile dell’agrimensore che demarcava il confine del Quarto Distretto: famigerato e quasi favoloso, e certamente quello a cui meno di tutto uno di loro adesso osava pensare, pensando che non era affatto difficile per un estraneo fare due cose insieme che al Quarto Distretto non sarebbero piaciute perché al Quarto Distretto non piaceva già a priori gran parte delle cose che la gente di città (e anche di quasi tutto il resto della contea se è per questo) faceva: ma che toccava a loro, un ragazzo bianco di sedici anni e uno negro della stessa età e una vecchia zitella bianca di settanta la scelta di fare allo stesso tempo le due cose che di tutto il vasto repertorio inventivo e potenziale dell’uomo il Quarto Distretto avrebbe ripudiato abbandonandosi alle ritorsioni più violente: violare la tomba di uno della sua progenie per sottrarre un assassino negro alla sua vendetta.
October 26, 2015
Description: Set in the deep south that provided the backdrop for all of Faulkner's finest fiction, Intruder in the Dust is the novel that marks the final phase of its author's outstanding creative period. The chronicle of an elderly black farmer arrested for the murder of a white man and under threat from the lynch mob is a characteristically Faulknerian tale of dark omen, its sole ray of hope the character of the young white boy who repays an old favour by proving the innocence of the man who saved him from drowning in an icy creek.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZ78B...
August 12, 2018
It was like something you have dreaded and feared and dodged for years until it seemed like all your life, then despite everything it happened to you and all it was was just pain, all it did was hurt and so it was all over, all finished, all right.
*
[...] it was only now that he understood what he himself had said. It was only after hearing someone else say it that he comprehended not the enormity of his intention but the simple inert unwieldy impossible physical vastness of what he faced;
*
[...] and before he could stop it he had thought Maybe we can, maybe we will after all;—before he could leap and spring and smother and blot it from thinking not because he couldn’t really believe they possibly could and not because you don't dare think whole even to yourself the entirety of a dear hope or wish let alone a desperate one else you yourself have doomed it but because thinking it into words even only to himself was like the struck match which doesn’t dispel the dark but only exposes its terror—one weak flash and glare revealing for a second the empty road’s the dark and empty land’s irrevocable immitigable negation.
*
‘Yes,’ his mother said. ‘Just let go:’ which was like telling a man dangling with one hand over a cliff to just hold on: who wanted nothing right now but a chance to let go and relinquish into the nothing of sleep what little of nothing he still had who last night had wanted to go to sleep and could have but didn’t have time and now wanted more than ever to go to sleep and had all the time in the world for the next fifteen minutes[...] only he had forgotten how: or maybe that was it and he didn’t dare relinquish into nothing what little he had left: which was nothing: no grief to be remembered nor pity nor even awareness of shame, no vindication of the deathless aspiration of man by man to man through the catharsis of pity and shame...
*
[...] because you escape nothing, you flee nothing; the pursuer is what is doing the running and tomorrow night is nothing but one long sleepless wrestle with yesterday’s omissions and regrets...
*
[...] it was only now that he understood what he himself had said. It was only after hearing someone else say it that he comprehended not the enormity of his intention but the simple inert unwieldy impossible physical vastness of what he faced;
*
[...] and before he could stop it he had thought Maybe we can, maybe we will after all;—before he could leap and spring and smother and blot it from thinking not because he couldn’t really believe they possibly could and not because you don't dare think whole even to yourself the entirety of a dear hope or wish let alone a desperate one else you yourself have doomed it but because thinking it into words even only to himself was like the struck match which doesn’t dispel the dark but only exposes its terror—one weak flash and glare revealing for a second the empty road’s the dark and empty land’s irrevocable immitigable negation.
*
‘Yes,’ his mother said. ‘Just let go:’ which was like telling a man dangling with one hand over a cliff to just hold on: who wanted nothing right now but a chance to let go and relinquish into the nothing of sleep what little of nothing he still had who last night had wanted to go to sleep and could have but didn’t have time and now wanted more than ever to go to sleep and had all the time in the world for the next fifteen minutes[...] only he had forgotten how: or maybe that was it and he didn’t dare relinquish into nothing what little he had left: which was nothing: no grief to be remembered nor pity nor even awareness of shame, no vindication of the deathless aspiration of man by man to man through the catharsis of pity and shame...
*
[...] because you escape nothing, you flee nothing; the pursuer is what is doing the running and tomorrow night is nothing but one long sleepless wrestle with yesterday’s omissions and regrets...
February 8, 2023
il negro Lucas Beauchamp, nipote del capostipite dei McCaslin (la famiglia bianca di Go down Moses) Carothers McCaslin, viene incriminato per l'omicidio di un bianco e tradotto in carcere... siamo sicuri che sia colpevole oppure viene arrestato perché negro?
August 27, 2019
ვფიქრობ, ამერიკულ კულტურას არ სჭირდება სუპერგმირების გამოგონება - გოლიათი კაცების, მფრინავი ქალებისა თუ მოლაპარაკე ცხოველების სახით, რადგან 1948 წელს რომანში "გვამის შემგინებელი" ფოლკნერმა ისეთი სასწაული გმირების შესახებ დაწერა, რომ იმის შემდეგ, მე რომ ამერიკელი ვიყო, ახლების გამოგონებასა და მით უმეტეს, მათით გაოცებას ვეღარ შევძლებდი: სამხრეთის შტატში ერთი სამოცდაათ წელს მიტანებული ქალი ორ თექვსმეტი წლის ბიჭთან (ერთი თეთრთკანიანი და მეორე შავკანიანი) ერთად ღამით მიდის გვამის ამოსათხრელად, რადგან მხოლოდ ისინი აღმოჩდნენ მთელს ქალაქში ისეთები, ვისაც დამნაშავის ბრალეულობა უპირობოდ არ დაუჯერებია მხოლოდ მისი კანის ფერის გამო. დიახ, ლუკას ბიჩემი ზანგი იყო და მისი დანაშაულის რეალურობაც დიდად არავის ადარდებდა, რადგან მის სიცოცხლეს არსებითი მნიშვნელობა არც ჰქონდა სხვების თვალში. აი, მხოლოდ იმ სამეულმა ვერ ჩაყლაპა ის უსამართლობა, რომელიც სხვა ყველამ უყოყმანოდ მოინელა, ისე, რომ ყელშიც არ გასჩხერიათ და გადასაყლაპად წყლის მიშველებაც არ დასჭირვებიათ. იმ ღამით საფლავის გათხრასთან ერთად კი სამეულმა არა მარტო მოკლული კაცის გვამი, არამედ სხვა ყველა დანარჩენის საგულდაგულოდ გადამალული სამართლიანობაც აღმოაჩინეს, რომელიც უკვე ლეშივით იხრწნებოდა და საშინლად ყარდა.
"ბავშვებს და ქალებს მოსმენა შეუძლიათ, იმათ ზედმეტად არა აქვთ თავი საქმით გამოტენილი. აი, ბიძაშენის და მამაშენის ხნის კაცები კი არ მოგისმენენ, არა სცალიათ, ყელამდე საზრუნავში არიან ჩაფლული. ჩემი სიტყვა დაიხსომე, იქნება, ოდესმე გამოგადგეს. თუ რამე ისეთი გექნა გასაკეთებელი, რასაც ყველას ვერ აუხსნი, დროს ტყუილად ნუ დაკარგავ, კაცებს ნუ მიადგები, ქალებთან მიდი ან ბავშვებთან, ისინი გიშველიან."
"ბავშვებს და ქალებს მოსმენა შეუძლიათ, იმათ ზედმეტად არა აქვთ თავი საქმით გამოტენილი. აი, ბიძაშენის და მამაშენის ხნის კაცები კი არ მოგისმენენ, არა სცალიათ, ყელამდე საზრუნავში არიან ჩაფლული. ჩემი სიტყვა დაიხსომე, იქნება, ოდესმე გამოგადგეს. თუ რამე ისეთი გექნა გასაკეთებელი, რასაც ყველას ვერ აუხსნი, დროს ტყუილად ნუ დაკარგავ, კაცებს ნუ მიადგები, ქალებთან მიდი ან ბავშვებთან, ისინი გიშველიან."
July 15, 2008
When explaining our summer reading assingments, our teacher told us to read Intruder In the Dust first, because it was a difficult book. She also told us that just because it was a hard book doesn't mean it isn't a good book. She said, and I quote, "The book doesn't suck, YOU suck for not being able to understand the book."
With that in mind, I would like to say that Intruder In the Dust is a terrible book, but not because of the difficult writing style or lack of interesting characters, but merely because it is three times as long as it needs to be. Everything about this book would be better as a short story. The plot, while interesting, to be sure, feels stretched thin over 200 pages. And the writing style, while certainly unique, is not suited to a full-length book. It is perhaps something used during a dream sequence or moment of high tension. The irregularity of flow-of-conciousness makes following a sequence of events very hard, though, and is therefore a bad choice for a novel. Also, the main character feels hollow in this book, simply because he is given time only to react and the development in his character, while important, is small, and he would fell more belivable if her were condensed into perhaps 20-30 pages.
So, at its core Intruder in the Dust is an interesting piece of literature. Its too bad so many other pages are tacked on.
With that in mind, I would like to say that Intruder In the Dust is a terrible book, but not because of the difficult writing style or lack of interesting characters, but merely because it is three times as long as it needs to be. Everything about this book would be better as a short story. The plot, while interesting, to be sure, feels stretched thin over 200 pages. And the writing style, while certainly unique, is not suited to a full-length book. It is perhaps something used during a dream sequence or moment of high tension. The irregularity of flow-of-conciousness makes following a sequence of events very hard, though, and is therefore a bad choice for a novel. Also, the main character feels hollow in this book, simply because he is given time only to react and the development in his character, while important, is small, and he would fell more belivable if her were condensed into perhaps 20-30 pages.
So, at its core Intruder in the Dust is an interesting piece of literature. Its too bad so many other pages are tacked on.
October 19, 2022
Dove into this right after Go Down, Moses thanks to Lucas Beauchamp and, well. I owe him one for that. I had to keep putting it down mid-page either to laugh or to think, which is the recipe for what I want out of anything.
Also, I see a lot of people apple-to-appleing this with To Kill A Mockingbird but I’d say it’s more apple-to-pear: kind of similar enough on the outside but if you take a big bite you’re in for a pretty good surprise. There’s just a heap more moral complexity here, which I love because the best place to find good and bad is on the inside of the same person.
And so Beauchamps and Habershams and Gowries alike, a rollicking heartbreaking thought-provoking good story.
Also, I see a lot of people apple-to-appleing this with To Kill A Mockingbird but I’d say it’s more apple-to-pear: kind of similar enough on the outside but if you take a big bite you’re in for a pretty good surprise. There’s just a heap more moral complexity here, which I love because the best place to find good and bad is on the inside of the same person.
And so Beauchamps and Habershams and Gowries alike, a rollicking heartbreaking thought-provoking good story.
January 11, 2018
اينكه فاكنر شخصيت يك سياه پوست رو با اين ويژگيهاي خاص و مثبت در كتابش ثبت كرده بطوري كه لوكاس سياهپوست يه جورايي ميشه شخصيت طلائي داستان،،جالبه... و اينكه در كليت داستان، دغدغه هاي انساني اي هست كه خيلي جالب توجهه...
با اين حال من خيلي باهاش ارتباط برقرار نكردم... ولي كلا از فاكنر خوندن خوشحالم😊
با اين حال من خيلي باهاش ارتباط برقرار نكردم... ولي كلا از فاكنر خوندن خوشحالم😊
August 30, 2018
While this is a damn good book, it's still not one of Faulkner's best. Perhaps that's because it's more accessible than his other novels. Their dense, mystical and mysterious nature is part of their appeal. Essentially Intruder in the Dust is just a murder mystery, almost Hardy Boys-esque at times. However, Faulkner's incredible use of language, acrobatic sentences, and moral theorizing elevate this book well beyond the basic dime store novel.
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December 7, 2021"... o que faz um homem agitar-se na cama de noite sem poder dormir não é tanto o ter lesado o seu semelhante quanto o ter estado errado."
186
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Faulkner é um escritor enigmático para mim. Faz muitos anos, o seu livro Luz de Agosto, foi um dos iniciadores do meu percurso pela literatura adulta: adeus Uma Aventura, olá monólogos internos, distorção de tempo, caracterização psicológica...
E claro, valeu a pena, mas Faulkner não me ficou como um escritor fenomenal. Agora decidi dar-lhe nova oportunidade e mesmo assim não o apelido de favorito.
De leitura muito complexa - a corrente de pensamento, aliás, nunca facilita a leitura, nem o pretende - requer toda a atenção disponível para acompanhar os longos parágrafos de página e meia e por vezes duas páginas, ou mais.
Cumpre com o objetivo de nos mergulhar, não em cena, mas dentro da consciência de cada personagem, com verdadeiros requintes de mestre. Mais do que o tema que pretende abordar (preconceito, racismo...), Falkner domina todo um estilo de forma muito característica e inconfundível com outros grandes mestres desta corrente, como Woolf ou Joyce.
Não deixa de ser importante notar como também a infância do escritor reverbera na sua narrativa. Criado em Oxford, pela mãe Maud, a avó Leila e a ama afro-americana, Callie Barr (Caroline) - mulheres cultas e literadas, pelo menos no caso das duas primeiras -, irá Faulkner, segundo os biógrafos, aprender o mundo da injustiça, do racismo e do sexismo que virão a transformar-se em traços de denúncia na sua obra. Em O Intruso, pelo menos, é bastante flagrante a influência feminina da sua educação.
A premissa é simples (e sem spoilers):
Um jovem, convencido da inocência de um negro no assassinato que move a cidade, será a peça deveras importante para o processo da sua absolvição.
No todo, O Intruso não é um livro chocante, impressionante ou inolvidável. Também não o vejo, como várias vezes se admite, como um tributo de Faulkner para um legado de esperança. Vejo-o mais como um documento a tempos ácido, a tempos fotográfico de uma realidade ainda não ultrapassada - centrada nos estados do sul americano, como o poderia ser em qualquer outra parte.
Fica difícil também categorizar o seu género, nem o tento fazer. As suas paisagens são tanto naturais como humanas, e o jogo de espelhos que nos devolve lembra o eterno paradoxo matemático da regressão infinita.
SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN
April 1965
Aquela premissa que tão simples parecia tem, afinal, sombras infindas e matizes a perder de vista. Faulkner aborda conceitos (aqui, sobretudo, a noção de dignidade humana) através de gestos banais como um erguer de sobrancelha ou um olhar de soslaio que interpreta em função de um nexo comum interligado por meio do consciente e subconsciente de cada personagem.
Continuo a encarar Faulkner com certa apreensão, o seu estilo requer demasiado esforço de concentração para o comum mortal - em especial o comum mortal afligido da praga dos estímulos fáceis -, mas uma releitura mais cuidada de Luz de Agosto acaba de entrar nos planos próximos.
186
__
Faulkner é um escritor enigmático para mim. Faz muitos anos, o seu livro Luz de Agosto, foi um dos iniciadores do meu percurso pela literatura adulta: adeus Uma Aventura, olá monólogos internos, distorção de tempo, caracterização psicológica...
E claro, valeu a pena, mas Faulkner não me ficou como um escritor fenomenal. Agora decidi dar-lhe nova oportunidade e mesmo assim não o apelido de favorito.
De leitura muito complexa - a corrente de pensamento, aliás, nunca facilita a leitura, nem o pretende - requer toda a atenção disponível para acompanhar os longos parágrafos de página e meia e por vezes duas páginas, ou mais.
Cumpre com o objetivo de nos mergulhar, não em cena, mas dentro da consciência de cada personagem, com verdadeiros requintes de mestre. Mais do que o tema que pretende abordar (preconceito, racismo...), Falkner domina todo um estilo de forma muito característica e inconfundível com outros grandes mestres desta corrente, como Woolf ou Joyce.
Não deixa de ser importante notar como também a infância do escritor reverbera na sua narrativa. Criado em Oxford, pela mãe Maud, a avó Leila e a ama afro-americana, Callie Barr (Caroline) - mulheres cultas e literadas, pelo menos no caso das duas primeiras -, irá Faulkner, segundo os biógrafos, aprender o mundo da injustiça, do racismo e do sexismo que virão a transformar-se em traços de denúncia na sua obra. Em O Intruso, pelo menos, é bastante flagrante a influência feminina da sua educação.
A premissa é simples (e sem spoilers):
Um jovem, convencido da inocência de um negro no assassinato que move a cidade, será a peça deveras importante para o processo da sua absolvição.
No todo, O Intruso não é um livro chocante, impressionante ou inolvidável. Também não o vejo, como várias vezes se admite, como um tributo de Faulkner para um legado de esperança. Vejo-o mais como um documento a tempos ácido, a tempos fotográfico de uma realidade ainda não ultrapassada - centrada nos estados do sul americano, como o poderia ser em qualquer outra parte.
Fica difícil também categorizar o seu género, nem o tento fazer. As suas paisagens são tanto naturais como humanas, e o jogo de espelhos que nos devolve lembra o eterno paradoxo matemático da regressão infinita.
SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN
April 1965
Aquela premissa que tão simples parecia tem, afinal, sombras infindas e matizes a perder de vista. Faulkner aborda conceitos (aqui, sobretudo, a noção de dignidade humana) através de gestos banais como um erguer de sobrancelha ou um olhar de soslaio que interpreta em função de um nexo comum interligado por meio do consciente e subconsciente de cada personagem.
Continuo a encarar Faulkner com certa apreensão, o seu estilo requer demasiado esforço de concentração para o comum mortal - em especial o comum mortal afligido da praga dos estímulos fáceis -, mas uma releitura mais cuidada de Luz de Agosto acaba de entrar nos planos próximos.
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