As I Lay Dying

Apr 11, 2013 Megan Baxter rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

I am feeling totally inadequate to the task of reviewing this book. It's only the second Faulkner I've read, and while I enjoyed Absalom, Absalom, it didn't quite utterly astound me the way this one did.

I was expecting the run-on sentences and outright rejection of periods that I found in the first book. Instead, I found short little chapters, and voices that spoke in terse sentences that only hinted at what lay beneath.

This is the story of Addie Bundren, and what happens to her body after she...more I am feeling totally inadequate to the task of reviewing this book. It's only the second Faulkner I've read, and while I enjoyed Absalom, Absalom, it didn't quite utterly astound me the way this one did.

I was expecting the run-on sentences and outright rejection of periods that I found in the first book. Instead, I found short little chapters, and voices that spoke in terse sentences that only hinted at what lay beneath.

This is the story of Addie Bundren, and what happens to her body after she dies, requesting that her husband, sons and daughter take her to buried in her hometown. It is the story of her husband, shiftless, possessive, prideful, self-reliant and stubborn. Of her oldest son, Cash, practical, handy, straight-forward. Of her second son, Darl, the one everyone in the neighbourhood worries about - except the overly pious next-door neighbour, who is convinced he is the one son who really loves his mother.

About her third and favourite son, Jewel, who loves his mother, even if he doesn't show it in ways acceptable to that next-door neighbour. Who will take nothing from his father's hand, and finds the only things he does care about bartered without his knowledge. About her daughter, Dewey Dell, in all kinds of female trouble, and with few to help. About her youngest son, Vardaman, who is so traumatized by his mother's death that he becomes convinced she is a fish.

As I Lay Dying is frequently funny. It often made me care about the characters, and then, on a dime, made me so exasperated I could have strangled them. The point-of-view chapters pile one on top of the other, and each new one lays some new meaning on top of what I already understood - how someone had misunderstood someone else, or what one cryptic reference had meant, or a different reason why the misadventures of the Bundren clan were what they were.

Everyone in this book is fucked up. This is revealed, more and more. And Faulkner is both merciless and compassionate as he airs this dirt-poor Southern family's peccadilloes. I have no idea how he manages to achieve both at the same time, but he does.

The chapters frequently have devastating juxtapositions, but my favourite was the one chapter from the dead mother's point of view, about the uselessness of words and the stupidity of those who think that they can explain everything or make everything right with the next chapter, when a man is riding to her homestead, intent on using his words to explain everything. I won't tell more than that, but coming hard on the heels of Addie's chapter, it tore down everything he said while he said it.

As I Lay Dying is a remarkable achievement. Everyone should read it.

Crossposted to Smorgasbook (less)

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Feb 16, 2012 Shan Jago rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

‘Chuck. Chuck. Chuck.’

‘I could just remember how my father used to say that the reason for living was to get ready to stay dead a long time.’

‘Wouldn’t you ruther have bananas.’

‘It takes two people to make you, and one people to die. That’s how the world is going to end.’

http://youtu.be/qC18_XEAe2o

Through a series of character monologues that unfold kaleidoscopically in a dark wash of color As I Lay Dying recounts the odyssey of coffined Addie Bundren, her husband Anse, and their children – Cash...more

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Feb 13, 2010 Bram rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: 2010

Without straying from his inimitable voice, Faulkner delivers a more professional, calculated effort here than with his novel of the year prior, The Sound and the Fury. There are more novel-y aspects to As I Lay Dying, and Faulkner emerges as the master of the slow- or late-reveal, which might be described as reverse-foreshadowing. As an example, Faulkner will provide a character scene that’s fraught with emotion and history and meaning, but he won't explain the context. There’s dramatic electri...more Without straying from his inimitable voice, Faulkner delivers a more professional, calculated effort here than with his novel of the year prior, The Sound and the Fury. There are more novel-y aspects to As I Lay Dying, and Faulkner emerges as the master of the slow- or late-reveal, which might be described as reverse-foreshadowing. As an example, Faulkner will provide a character scene that’s fraught with emotion and history and meaning, but he won't explain the context. There’s dramatic electricity, and we fully expect to understand the situation even while failing to receive any adumbrations. And that’s because Faulkner isn’t actually hinting at events to come; he’s showing us something we can’t understand without promises of future textual elucidation. We just have to trust that he’ll come through, which of course he always does via hints that come after the event. It’s sort of uncomfortable, and it made me reread certain passages obsessively, assuming that something must have slipped by. But this way we get to feel the drama first with disorientation rather than with understanding.

I’ve read a few confusing novels, and no writer seems to use this method of disorientation so deliberately and so effectively as a ploy. Faulkner puts us at his mercy. He’s the one calling the shots, and we have to play by his rules. More than anything else, I think it's this aspect that can make people uneasy or unhappy with his works. But really it's a gift, leaving us with the rawness and incomprehensibility of life, which only begin to make sense in hindsight through functions of memory and our desire to find order and purpose. This, along with stream of consciousness, is what gives Faulkner as much of a claim to the title of Modernist as any of his contemporaries: he provides us with a hyper-reality via a unique, non-straightforward narrative structure.

So this is a great book, and its star rating is possibly suffering because it’s coming on the heels of a definitively 5-star read. The characterization is, for the most part, fantastic. The story is told from various points of view, usually in two- or three-page chapters. I’d say about ten characters help to tell the story, but our primary narrator is Darl (some spoilers to follow). Darl is the second eldest son of the story’s plot-mover, Addie Bundren, and his character arc is probably the one thing keeping this novel out of ‘masterpiece’ territory for me. He’s described as someone intuitive and special, a bit of an oddball but a nice, thoughtful kid. His own narration backs this up; he’s the wise one, the amateur philosopher, and his narration is filled with difficult words and surprisingly correct grammar. But something happens with him toward the end of the book that didn’t quite work for me. Faulkner’s main philosophical exploration in this novel is relativity with regard to both morals and sanity, and Darl does something that confirms the others’ suspicions that he’s a little bit crazy. But given the absurdity of the situation the characters are in, Darl’s action actually makes some good sense. From a certain point of view, it’s perfectly understandable. So far, so good—Camus would have been really jealous of this set up. Only one character, Darl’s older brother Cash, recognizes that Darl may not actually be crazy:

Sometimes I aint so sho who’s got ere a right to say when a man is crazy and when he aint…It’s like it aint so much what a fellow does, but it’s the way the majority of folks is looking at him when he does it.

Exactly. But then, inexplicably, Faulkner decides that Darl is, in fact, insane: in the course of Darl’s final narration, he exhibits previously unseen schizophrenic behavior, complete with nonsensical ramblings addressing himself in the third person. What? Faulkner should have left him the way he was, as the guy who has almost too much sense and insight and therefore gets funny looks from all the ‘normal’ people. But this criticism arises from the contents of a two-page chapter, and fortunately it can be excised with a little mental effort. There’s also the possibility that some crucial hints in the book escaped me. Because of Faulkner’s storytelling style, in which many things only make sense later, it’s likely that I missed the significance of many comments, thoughts, and glances along the way. As I mentioned in a review for The Sound and the Fury, Faulkner is ripe for rereads because it’s inevitable that seeming irrelevancies and ambiguous character interactions from the first read will take on new meanings when you’re equipped with knowledge of the whole story. Unfortunately, I’ve never been one of those readers who can go right back to the beginning of a book after finishing it.

One of the fascinating things about this novel is that it can be read either as a tragedy or as a black comedy (or, therefore, as a tragicomedy). The case for the former is rather straightforward considering the events of the book, particularly with regard to Darl. The bleak comedic aspect comes from the story’s McGuffin—to fulfill the above-mentioned Addie Bundren’s last wish of being buried in her family’s hometown—which becomes increasingly absurd as it proves logistically improbable to carry out. All manner of misfortunes are incurred as a result of her spineless husband’s uncharacteristic firmness in fulfilling this wish, a resolve that’s made even more unbefuckinglievably absurd by the book’s final five words. It’s all too tragic for laughs, but it’s pure genius. (less)

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Jul 17, 2010 Matt rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

I'm no copyright lawyer, but it seems like Faulkner's estate could have sued the hell out of the makers of National Lampoon's Vacation. There is the obvious corpse-carting similarity, but I can almost hear the familiar refrain of Lindsey Buckingham's "Holiday Road" bleed into the scene of the Bundren's fateful river crossing. (Pre)DMCA violations were definitely afoot, at least in spirit.

This is the book for those who find Faulkner's other well known works to be intimidating. As I Lay Dying deli...more

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Jun 11, 2008 Alisha rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition Recommends it for: people who like linguistics

Shelves: fiction, favorites

Aside from the fact that the title is taken from a line in "Agamemnon" (which makes it already unbearably cool) this is a breathtaking book. It took me about four chapters to get used to Faulker's style of writing- the dialects, the chapters each being from another character's perspective, his way of having no narration so you have to figure out what is going on from the half-conversations the characters have themselves... but god, once I adjusted, I was completely floored. This is a beautiful,...more

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Jun 19, 2008 Jason rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: all-time-favorites

i'm re-reading a lot of this for my thesis...Vardaman and the extended metaphor of the mother/fish are sort of the jumping off point for what i'm doing...
the more i look into this text the more i realize how carefully Faulkner was when he wrote it...almost every word is packed with significance...
it's very concentrated...
i read once that he wrote it in a very short time, with very few re-writes...i wonder of that's accurate...it seems far too artful to have been conceived off the cuff...but i'm...more i'm re-reading a lot of this for my thesis...Vardaman and the extended metaphor of the mother/fish are sort of the jumping off point for what i'm doing...
the more i look into this text the more i realize how carefully Faulkner was when he wrote it...almost every word is packed with significance...
it's very concentrated...
i read once that he wrote it in a very short time, with very few re-writes...i wonder of that's accurate...it seems far too artful to have been conceived off the cuff...but i'm not sure...don't have the opportunity to run it down just now...

currently, i'm attempting to analyze the passages when Vardaman shows up with the fish, leaves with it, and returns bloody up to his knees...it seems to me this section allegorizes what is expected of Vardaman, how he is left to reconcile his mother's death on his own, and how unsuccessful he is in doing so...
this sets up the need for him to create the personal mythology surrounding the fish...by conflating the fish with his mother he tries, again unsuccessfully, to make sense of Addie's death...

reading over it again also makes me realize how psychologically complex this book is...in these short vignettes Faulkner explores so much about human perception and motivation, and how deeply emotional responses can effect them...

i've often read that this text is widely considered Faulkner's masterpiece...i can readily see how this could be the case...his other works are undoubtedly incredible achievements, yet they do have their visible flaws...
it seems to me this work is as close to perfect as a piece of fiction can get...

i stumbled across this passage just now:

"As I Lay Dying was a "deliberate book," a "tour-de-force" which had given him a "cold satisfaction" upon finishing it: Before I ever put pen to paper and set down the first word, I knew what the last word would be and almost where the last period would fall. Before I began I said, I am going to write a book by which, at a pinch, I can stand or fall if I never touch ink again. (Meriwether, "An Introduction to The Sound and the Fury" 709)

i think he succeeded...
(less)

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May 30, 2008 Matt rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

I've noticed that, in the past couple years (and maybe this has to do with workshop in some oblique psychological way?), the books that move me and linger in me the most are ones that I have a rather contentious relationship with at first. And that's definitely what happened here. For the first half of the book, I just wanted old Billy F to write something that MADE SENSE and was UNDERSTANDABLE. The language obscured the characters, and so I found myself unable to distinguish one from another, t...more

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Jun 06, 2008 Chris rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition Recommends it for: Anyone

This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here. I had the opportunity of reading Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury twice while I was in college. Since that time I have told everyone who would listen that it was the greatest of novels. Though I still believe that I must admit that As I Lay Dying is a close rival. I picked this book up because I had just finished reading James Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and Dubliners and I needed something ‘light’ to decompress. This book was short, and seemed a good choice. I had no idea wha...more I had the opportunity of reading Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury twice while I was in college. Since that time I have told everyone who would listen that it was the greatest of novels. Though I still believe that I must admit that As I Lay Dying is a close rival. I picked this book up because I had just finished reading James Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and Dubliners and I needed something ‘light’ to decompress. This book was short, and seemed a good choice. I had no idea what I was getting into. I was riveted and finished the book in three days. I am debating reading it again soon.

Much is said about Faulkner’s choice of storytelling, where he allows each character to give tidbits of information and forces the reader to work in order to understand what has happened. I take my hat off to Faulkner for his style of narrative. Most writers could not pull it off. Having read and studied The Sound and the Fury I had no difficulty following the patchwork narrative, as I have heard many comment that they have. But what really struck me about this book was the study of the central characters and their relationships.

On the surface it is easy to recognize (and be disgusted by) how the Bundren men treat women. Specifically their wife and mother, who has just passed away, and their sister and daughter Dewey Dell. The narrative is a reflection of how they treat Addie Bundren, both before and after her death. The patriarch of the family, Anse, commits to take Addie several miles to bury her in her home town, often noting that he wouldn’t begrudge her the effort it would take. Yet his laziness and his lack of planning for the journey, as well as his blatant disregard for the children she bore him show that his dedication to her was hollow.

Addie’s sons, Cash, Darl and Jewel all follow their father’s disregard for their mother and even the youngest son Vardaman shows that he is learning the ways of his elder brothers. While trying to cross a swollen river the cart which carries Addie’s body meets with disaster and overturns in one of the most poignant moments in the book. After the Bundren boys get themselves out of the river, their primary concern is recovering Cash’s carpentry tools, which were spilled along with the cart. It is only later that it is revealed that her coffin and body were not lost in the accident. Throughout the story during times when Vardaman is telling the tale, he gives bits and pieces of tragic events, yet he continually obsesses about a toy train that he greatly desires. He is trained just as his father and brothers before him to be more concerned with himself than others. And there is evidence at the end of the book that Anse’s mistreatment of those who love him will continue.

The story is about a family who travels with the casket of their dead mother in order to bury her in her desired resting place. All of the family members encounter personal disasters during the journey, and I had expected some closure with the burial. Yet the actual burial is never described in the narrative.

Despite the disturbing and unsettling events that transpire during the journey, and the moral deficiencies of some of the characters, I found a certain level of perverse comedy at some times. I even felt guilty about finding the tragedies amusing. I am sure Faulkner did this on purpose.

I would recommend this book to anyone. My mother is a fish. After you’ve read the book I would like to know: Is your mother a fish, or a horse?
(less)

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Aug 27, 2008 AmyAmy rated it 1 of 5 stars · review of another edition

I know you're "supposed to" love this book because it's Faulker, but I HATED IT! I know you're "cool" and "intelligent" if you read Faulkner, but I can't stand him. Sorry, I don't know what he's talking about (and at the risk of sounding immodest, I am bright). I DON'T think it's cool and "hip" to write in a confusing manner, and I don't try to impress others by liking ambiguity. I had my fill in college with snobs who pretended to like this stuff. Sorry I sound harsh here (I'm really a nice per...more

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Apr 14, 2012 Marco Tamborrino rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Mi ricordavo di mio padre che diceva sempre che la ragione per cui si viveva era per prepararsi a restare morti tanto tempo.

Faulkner scrisse Mentre morivo nell'estate del 1929, in sole sei settimane, all'età di 32 anni, quando lavorava come fuochista alla centrale elettrica dell'Università di Oxford, Mississippi, e vi si dedicava "nelle ore di minor lavoro, tra la mezzanotte e le quattro del mattino, usando come tavolino una carriola capovolta".

Okay, a questo punto o sei gesùcristorisorto o sei...more Mi ricordavo di mio padre che diceva sempre che la ragione per cui si viveva era per prepararsi a restare morti tanto tempo.

Faulkner scrisse Mentre morivo nell'estate del 1929, in sole sei settimane, all'età di 32 anni, quando lavorava come fuochista alla centrale elettrica dell'Università di Oxford, Mississippi, e vi si dedicava "nelle ore di minor lavoro, tra la mezzanotte e le quattro del mattino, usando come tavolino una carriola capovolta".

Okay, a questo punto o sei gesùcristorisorto o sei un buffone. Perché un romanzo costruito com'è costruito questo si scrive in sei settimane solo se hai dei superpoteri di qualche tipo. Ora, wikipedia alla mano, proverò ad analizzarlo e a metterci dentro anche le mie impressioni. Che sono molto, molto positive.

Partiamo dall'intreccio. È semplicissimo. Siamo nel sud degli Stati Uniti, anno imprecisato, una famiglia di campagna. La madre muore, e il suo desiderio era di essere sepolta lontano dai suoi cari che in vita aveva odiato. Il marito, i figli e la figlia iniziano così un viaggio che dovrà portarli alla cittadina di Jefferson, dove seppellirla.
Il romanzo si apre in medias res, con Chash, uno dei figli, che sta costruendo la bara sotto gli occhi della madre morente.

Un intreccio semplice ma architettato splendidamente. Il libro è scritto in flusso di coscienza, i capitoli si alternano con le voci dei familiari che raccontano il modo in cui vedono l'evento della morte della madre/moglie. Già dal titolo - che fa riferimento a un verso dell'Odissea - siamo introdotti nel viaggio funebre del carro e della famiglia, dei suoi segreti raccontati attraverso simboli o accenni a volte poco chiari e complessi da decifrare. Emblematico il capitolo di Vardaman, il figlio più piccolo, che recita solamente la frase "mia madre è un pesce", perché nato dal mero gesto meccanico della riproduzione. Più avanti si trova invece la frase secondo quale, la madre di Jewel (terzo figlio, nato dall'adulterio) è un cavallo, poiché nato da una passione focosa. In questo gioco di simboli, Darl, il secondo figlio, non ha madre poiché non è mai stato amato da sua madre, in quanto arrivato senza essere desiderato.
Dice il signor Tull (il vicino di casa insieme alla moglie Cora) riguardo a Darl: “Lui mi guarda. Non dice nulla; mi guarda e basta, con quei suoi occhi strambi che fanno parlare la gente. Dico sempre, non è tanto quello che ha mai fatto oppure detto o qualsiasi cosa quanto come ti guarda. È come se ti fosse entrato dentro, in qualche maniera. È come se in un modo o in un altro tu ti stia guardando e guardando quello che fai con gli occhi di lui”.

Il tono in cui tutto è raccontato è tragico, drammatico, ma è capace anche di raggiungere vette di comicità e di grottesco incredibili, soprattutto perché non è affatto semplice capire al volo il significato che Faulkner ha messo dietro le quinte. La lucudità è poca. Lo stile è ostico, ma dopo una ventina di pagine ci si fa l'abitudine. La cosa sbagliata da fare è fermarsi per rileggere. Bisogna andare avanti, perché dopo tutto va al suo posto. Con un po' di pazienza, si arriva a ciò che l'autore vuole dire.

Darl, il figlio non amato, conosce anche i segreti del fratello Jewel e della sorella Dewey Dell. Sopravvissuto alla grande guerra, nei suoi occhi si scorgono le scintille della pazzia. Il fratello Cash ne farà una riflessione che colpisce come un pugno per la sua franchezza: "Certe volte non sono tanto sicuro di chi ha il diritto di dire quando uno è pazzo e quando no. Certe volte penso che nessuno di noi è del tutto pazzo e nessuno è del tutto normale finché il resto della gente lo convince a andare in un senso o nell'altro. È come se non fosse tanto quello che uno fa, ma com'è che lo guarda la maggioranza di noi quando lo fa. [..] Ma non sono poi così tanto sicuro che uno abbia il diritto di dire che cos'è pazzo o che cosa non lo è. È come se dentro a ognuno ci fosse qualcuno che è al di là dell'esser normale o dell'esser pazzo, e le cose normali e le cose pazze che fa le guarda con lo stesso orrore e lo stesso stupore".

Ogni personaggio è pitturato come una figura tragica con il suo passato tragico. Il padre ingobbito e senza denti, testardo e coccciuto, anche nel suo amore verso la moglie morta che non ricambiava allo stesso modo. E proprio Addie, la moglie, la madre, che ha dato altri due figli al marito per cancellare Jewel, l'adulterio. Cash, il figlio falegname, la gamba rotta e la meccanica gestualità che gli fa costruire la bara di fronte alla madre morente. Darl, il figlio soldato non amato, pazzo e muto sui segreti del fratello e della sorella. Jewel, che durante le giornate di un'estate sembra stanchissimo perché di notte se ne va di casa a lavorare il campo di un altro uomo per guadagnare dei soldi e comprasi un cavallo selvaggio. Sempre Jewel, nato dall'amore della madre per un altro uomo, l'unico figlio che le madre abbia veramente amato, anche se lui l'amava e l'odiava insieme. Dewey Dell che tiene nascosta la sua gravidanza. Vardaman, il più piccolo, il bambino innocente che assiste allo squartamento di sua madre - il pesce che ha appena pescato - per essere cucinata. Il bambino che vede tutto l'orrore del rito di sepoltura (la decomposizione della madre, gli avvoltoi, il rogo appiccato dal fratello pazzo, la prostituzione della sorella) e che per Natale sogna un trenino rosso visto un giorno dietro una vetrina ("Mi faceva male al cuore come il treno"). La coralità del libro è, nell'insieme, devastante. Ai personaggi della famiglia si aggiungono gli interventi di chi le sta vicino durante il suo pellegrinaggio, come il dottore Peabody.

Un solo capitolo è dedicato a Addie, la moglie/madre morente, che sembra quasi parlare post mortem. "Anche lui aveva una parola. Amore, lo chiamava. Ma era da un pezzo che avevo fatto l'abitudine alle parole. Sapevo benissimo che quella parola era come tutte le altre: semplicemente una forma per riempire un vuoto; che quando fosse venuto il momento, non ci sarebbe stato bisogno di una parola, per quello, più che per l'orgoglio o per la paura". In lei e nel suo odio per le parole, prima fra tutte la parola "Amore" che il marito utilizza per descrivere l'atto sessuale, troviamo tutto l'odio di un essere umano per i suoi cari, a partire dal marito e per finire con Darl, il figlio mai voluto. Darl che la vedeva così: "Quella sera trovai la mamma seduta accanto al letto dove lui dormiva, nel buio. Piangeva con violenza, forse perché doveva piangere così, in silenzio; forse perché per lei le lacrime erano come l'inganno, odiandosi perché lo faceva, odiando lui perché era costretta a farlo. E allora capii che avevo capito. Lo capii chiaro e tondo, quel giorno, come quel giorno capii di Dewey Dell".

Ci sono sconcerto e incredulità nelle persone che la famiglia incontra durante il suo viaggio. Non riescono a credere che stiano facendo tutta quella strada per seppelire una persona. In una scena verso la fine, mentre il carro è fermo in un paesino, c'è tutta la triste realtà del gesto che il padre di famiglia e i suoi figli stanno compiendo. Le donne passano a distanza dal carro con un fazzoletto sul naso, una guardia si ferma e dice a Anse (il padre) di sloggiare. Capitoli prima, un uomo aveva pensato questo: "«Ora che è morta, sarà superiore a certe stupidaggini» dico io. Perché io ai morti porto lo stesso rispetto che gli portano tutti, ma i morti vanno rispettati, e una donna che è morta da quattro giorni il modo migliore di portarle rispetto è di metterla sottoterra il prima possibile. Ma loro, niente".

Se l'intreccio è semplice, il meccanismo dell'intreccio stesso è più complicato di quanto si possa immaginare. In sole duecentotrentuno pagine si mischiano molte voci e i loro tormenti. Dalla voce più innocente (Vardaman, "Il pianto fa un sacco di rumore. Vorrei che non facesse tanto rumore"), a quella più tragica e presente (Darl, che domina su tutti con ben 19 capitoli su 59), passando per l'essere donna troppo presto di Dewey Dell ("Sento il mio corpo, le ossa e la carne che cominciano a dividersi e a aprirsi sull'esser sola, e il processo di diventare non-sola è terribile"). [Tra l'altro nella frase appena riportata è descritta la gravidanza in maniera sublime facendo uso di pochissime parole].

Bisogna chiudere gli occhi per trovare - in sintonia fra di loro - l'assurdo, il comico, il simbolico, l'inconcluso e il grottesco che permeano tutta la tragedia. Ma una volta chiusi gli occhi il risultato è meraviglioso.

"Ci vogliono due persone per farti, e una per morire.
È così che il mondo finirà."(less)

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Jan 14, 2008 Paul rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

This was the first novel I read in college, and I've taught it three times since then, probably read it at least 7-8 times by now. The characters are so implacably strange, and their journey so painful and ridiculous at the same time. It's actually a very blackly humorous book, and the humor comes out more and more with each reading. Faulkner at his best.

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Feb 10, 2013 Sean Gordon rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

First things first: I felt a strong impulse to cleanse the metaphorical palette after digesting that finale with some trashy flagrant codswallop in the form of Marc Bolan’s album The Slider. For Christ’s sakes, is Anse Bundren maybe the single least likable character in all the annals, twisty hallways and waterways intertwining through the gold-faceted complex of American literature, or what? Don’t tell me I’m misinterpreting him - Faulker surely didn’t make his name a rearrangement of ‘anes,’ w...more First things first: I felt a strong impulse to cleanse the metaphorical palette after digesting that finale with some trashy flagrant codswallop in the form of Marc Bolan’s album The Slider. For Christ’s sakes, is Anse Bundren maybe the single least likable character in all the annals, twisty hallways and waterways intertwining through the gold-faceted complex of American literature, or what? Don’t tell me I’m misinterpreting him - Faulker surely didn’t make his name a rearrangement of ‘anes,’ which sounds like some awful Eastern mistranslation of ‘anus,’ or, at least that’s what I was intimating, for absolutely nothing at all.

All he does is spout shit, after all -- but who can blame him? Poor man suffers a whole drawn-out thread of misfortune; he’s troubled by his wife’s very timely and calculated death (and the post-necrosis sermons which she recites beautifully and which Faulkner channels into what is arguably the greatest individual chapter of any American novel you are ever likely to read, but I digress.); he’s annoyed by his children, to whom he’s given everything, all the food he’s ever grown (because he was kindly enough to allow his own flesh ‘n’ blood... well, at least several of whom were conceived of his fleshly kernel, to drinketh also from his streamlet, such as any Christian kind-hearted man would do) and provided with all the basic necessities of life. Miscreants, the lot of ‘em, won’t even donate to their father a wink of legal tender or a few precious valuables, measures of all one has ever striven to attain, used to assert one’s independence or anything worth scuttling for into the sunset with tear-stained cheeks...

But I suppose that’s the beauty of his character, isn’t it? Lazy but only if forced to stop and begin anew, faithful spiritually and matrimonially but so unaware of his surroundings and inadequate as an emotional provider that his faithfulness really demonstrates fuck-all nothing about the type of person he is. His character is clothed in thicker and thicker layers of relative unfaithfulness throughout the book, which are unraveled coating-by-coating into something even more contemptible by its conclusion. All this while being the only character without any actual development or deconstruction to speak of; really, I’ve never hated a man quite as much, and I dunno if a deliberate lack of exploration has ever worked to deepen one quite as effectively. Goodness, Faulkner, excellent fucking work with that.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the time and I’m sure you don’t have the patience to read in-depth appraisals of all... sixteen narrators, I believe? So for the sake of expedience, I’ll provide a few brief evaluations: Cash’s name perplexes me, I can’t reason it through -- however, I’d wager that his character develops the most interestingly of the bunch. At the beginning and for the whole of the narrative, he operates with the most complexity in terms of action and engagement but with the least complexity in terms of emotion. Faulkner ranges over that juxtaposition pretty subtly for the duration of the novel and uses Cash as a dramatic foil to the other characters (usually within their own narratives) but balances the two attributes out near the end without exactly transposing them -- to be blunt, and to avoid any overstatement, it’s pretty brilliant.

Darl is the most confusing narrator; aside from the whole ‘I guess he must be a fucking psychic’ angle which I don’t even wanna get into, there’s the question of what exactly his evenhandedness indicates. Jewel was his mother’s most precious, of course -- the fruit of sacrilegious union and the only mnemonic of life beyond marriage. Dewey Dell was sex, interfamilial sex, extrafamilial sex, the consequences of sex, sex as an implement to negate other sex (and, in a sense, a spiritual continuance of her mother -- or at least that’s my theorization). And from a critical standpoint, I can’t help but be a little puzzled by Vardaman. I feel like he was almost used as a vessel for Faulkner to exercise his mastery of the stream-of-consciousness technique, but he contributes enough to the plot and evolves interestingly enough as a character that I almost don’t mind.

But see, when being written about by someone as inexperienced and mostly inept as myself, As I Lay Dying can’t really be evaluated -- and to be honest, I can’t imagine even the most exhaustive review on this entire website articulating the whole scope and breadth and width of what Faulkner was trying to convey. I hate to weasel my way out of a project like this, but really, it’s the type of thing you have to experience for yourself. Go ‘head. Go to the library or the book store if you’ve got 12 dollars’ worth of capital to waste. Unless you’re not interested in the existential abstractions seething through everyday life on the farmland -- maybe it’ll even help you forget about this shitty review.(less)

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May 05, 2013 Suzanne Moore rated it 3 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: dark-humor

Difficult … not as bad as trying to work a 1000 piece puzzle of a foggy mountain scene, but almost. I felt Addie's regrets while she lay breathing her last breaths. I felt Anse's determination to do at least one thing right by his dead wife, even though his loyalty didn't always seem sincere. I felt Varadman's pain as he tried to rationale the life of a fish he caught and cleaned for supper with the loss of his mother. I felt Cash's devotion as he sawed and plied the wood for Addie's coffin, and...more

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Apr 15, 2011 Elliot rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: ap-literature-2010-11, favorites

When I mentioned to a close friend that I chose William Faulkner for my AP Lit author study, he said, "Ah. Prepare to spend a lot of time in a 15 mile radius."

Faulkner wrote as hyperlocal author, but he created As I Lay Dying as a mythic portrayal of something so much greater than the events in one country town, so much greater than a family's travels to bring their dead mother to her chosen grave. As I Lay Dying is a mythology of the tragicomic absurdity of human existence, of the moral valley...more When I mentioned to a close friend that I chose William Faulkner for my AP Lit author study, he said, "Ah. Prepare to spend a lot of time in a 15 mile radius."

Faulkner wrote as hyperlocal author, but he created As I Lay Dying as a mythic portrayal of something so much greater than the events in one country town, so much greater than a family's travels to bring their dead mother to her chosen grave. As I Lay Dying is a mythology of the tragicomic absurdity of human existence, of the moral valley between our actions and our intentions, of the continuity of being, of the mind’s struggle with reality. How interesting it is, then, the way that Faulkner’s characters each create (or attempt to create) their own mythologies – their own allegorical realities or subversions.

The writing in this novel is simply gorgeous, the structure bewilderingly difficult, the novel as a whole discomforting, dismal, brilliant, and often ambiguous. As I contemplate the work, I begin to wonder about its occasional incomprehensibility. Clearly the novel’s plot develops using what I’ve seen referred to in other works as “reciprocity” – events and symbolism in the beginning cannot be understood until the end, and events and symbolism in the end hold no significance without their predecessors; this periphrastic and doubling construction seems to be more than just an experimental method – it could perhaps advance a point in and of itself. The spiraling architecture of As I Lay Dying, the circumlocutious development in which narrators allude to events or describe them incompletely with sparse words, only to have other details added chapters later, can be almost impenetrable. No event in this book can be understood through the narration of one character alone, and no event in this book can be understood until well after it has taken place. Likewise, no single character ever quite comprehends their decisions or recognizes exactly what is going on in their lives. Likewise, “reality” occurs only in hindsight.

Faulkner’s apparent lack of moral judgment over his characters becomes understandable as one realizes that nothing that happens is quite clear. Events make no sense as they occur – rightful judgment deserves no place in the present tense.

And yet despite appearing to advocate ambiguity in many regards, the book discusses numerous topics, and seems to propose, if not argue, so many ideas: the ways that children (and those who behave like children) cope with death, the irremovable disconnect between words and their meaning, the validity of society’s feminine ideals, what insanity really is.

Daresay I could sing praises unto this “tour de force” for ages, but at the moment I’m too busy rereading it, still extracting more and more out of it even as I drink in chapters for the 4th or 5th time. Faulkner created a dazzling and disturbing masterpiece with As I Lay Dying, and I look forward to delving into more of his oeuvre during the summer and beyond.

***

SECOND READ

Even better, even more perplexing. Ultimately, this isn't my favorite of Faulkner's (The Sound and the Fury makes me... seasick almost; it's simply overwhelming), but it's damn near perfect. Exploring this work again with a particular focus on authorship, eye-imagery, narrative tenses, and animal magnetism was tremendously rewarding. I can't wait to read it again!(less)

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Mar 11, 2012 Nicholas Armstrong rated it 1 of 5 stars · review of another edition

"And since sleep is is-not and rain and wind are was, it is not. Yet the wagon is, because when the wagon is was, Addie Bundren will not be. And Jewel is, so Addie Bundren must be. And then I must be, or I could not empty myself for sleep in a strange room. And so if I am not emptied yet, I am is."
............ There are people who actually like this?

Seriously though, I'm pretty sure I get it, I just don't like it. There is a family and each one is a reflection of a way of living, or in some case...more "And since sleep is is-not and rain and wind are was, it is not. Yet the wagon is, because when the wagon is was, Addie Bundren will not be. And Jewel is, so Addie Bundren must be. And then I must be, or I could not empty myself for sleep in a strange room. And so if I am not emptied yet, I am is."
............ There are people who actually like this?

Seriously though, I'm pretty sure I get it, I just don't like it. There is a family and each one is a reflection of a way of living, or in some cases, a way of dying. Anse is the 'woe is me' type and Addie is the 'Serve your purpose and die' type and that's all well and good, and it's a pretty cool idea for a book, I just don't like Faulkner. Do you know that skill has very little to do with the process of inventing a concept? I'm still not entirely convinced that Faulkner is the genius he is made out to be. In fact, I'm not entirely convinced I should like him at all. Based off his biography he is kind of a pathetic, lying, failure - so what am I supposed to think of his writing?

Stream-of-consciousness is one thing, writing in Faulkner's way is another. Scenes are dropped onto our heads in ways we cannot comprehend and actions are portrayed without explanation. And do you know the unfairest cut of all? Faulkner knows what he is trying to say, he knows all about these characters, he just isn't showing us anything. An example: originally there were no names at the beginning of the chapters. Yeah, no kidding. He just wrote this shit with no explanation of our speaker and expected us to figure it out. That is not genius. Writing is about making a connection to a stranger, bridging a gap of confusion to create understanding and to share an idea, a theme, an image with thousands or millions of people who you've never met. Faulkner writes in jargon he understands with little to no respect for the reader and I can't forgive him for it. If you don't believe me then write something. Write a short story. Write 3, or 4, or 5 pages. Flesh out the characters and their histories and their conflicts. Got it? Okay, now when you are writing a scene with multiple people use only the pronoun he. You will know who you are talking about - do we? Is that good writing? No, it isn't.

It is easy to be confusing. It is easy to write something beautiful and understandable for yourself. It's hard to write universal words which we can all connect.

Good idea, Faulkner, poor performance.(less)

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Nov 18, 2007 colleen rated it 5 of 5 stars Recommends it for: everyone

Contains what is quite possibly my favorite passage in all of literature. Darl musing:
"In a strange room you must empty yourself for sleep. And before you are emptied for sleep, what are you. And when you are emptied for sleep, you are not. And when you were filled with sleep, you never were. I dont know what I am. I dont know if I am or not. Jewel knows he is, because he does not know that he doesnt not know whether he is or not. He cannot empty himself for sleep because he is not what he is a...more

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Apr 17, 2007 Matt rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition Recommends it for: People who have lived.

One of my students has commented about this book, and, quite understandable, simply said, CURSES. This has been a consistant comment by my students. I can come to only this conclusion.

I would like to preface this by saying I find few traits in people that allow me to immediately judge their character. You may wear the stars and bars, and I'll give you five minutes before I come up with who you are. I can, however, say quite safely that if you don't love this book, something is wrong with you.

I h...more

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Aug 21, 2007 Paula rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: fantasticallywierd

fabulous horror, horribly fabulous. Faulkner is one of those rare talents whose use of language makes it feel as if the story is coming out of the center of one's brain, rather than the normally staid input directly through the eyes. You have to love these people, in spite of their gross stupidity, for their persistence and enduring fortitude to what little threads carry them through the persistent agony of existence. If only they had lavished one-tenth of the care on Ma in life that they did in...more

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Sep 27, 2012 Justin Haynes rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: biblical, books-for-the-rest-of-my-life, favorites, grit-lit

Random House has re-issued several William Faulkner classics. I love William Faulkner. So, let's do this!

AS I LAY DYING by William Faulkner is undoubtedly one of the great works of the twentieth century, written by the greatest American novelist of the twentieth century, and about a people who have come to represent where our country is today. They are a people fascinated with redneck jokes, Larry the Cable Guy, and a desire to remain in a filth and squalor even though with a little bit of work...more

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May 22, 2013 John Molina rated it 3 of 5 stars · review of another edition

I'm kind of torn with how I feel about this book. Faulkner's writing style is the driving force behind this book, and at first it is hard to get into. Faulkner doesn't use very many difficult words in this book, but the way in which he structures his sentences is a bit confusing. LIke I said, I was a bit taken aback by his style; but once I got into it, I enjoyed the story and the way he phrases his sentences. Faulkner's greatest strength to me is his attention to detail. Faulkner puts seemingly...more

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Feb 11, 2012 Lisa (Harmonybites) rated it 1 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: classics, fiction, literary-fiction, novels

This is the second book I've read by William Faulkner. My first, Intruder in the Dust, was assigned me in high school and was my introduction both to Faulkner and to the stream-of-consciouness technique. It wasn't a happy experience in either respect. Now, soon after tackling Joyce's Ulysses, considered the epitome of stream-of-consciousness literature, I finally read As You Lay Dying, which had been sitting on my bookshelf for who knows how long. It's a much easier read than Ulysses, but I'm af...more

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Mar 10, 2013 Brad rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: faves, classic

One lick less. One lick less. It sticks with you, that sound, as does this book, and there ain't no escaping the feelin's it conjures. I couldn't sleep while reading the Bundrens' tale again. I dunno if the book's t'blame. But I kept hearin' one lick less, one lick less. I'm still hearin' it.

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Sep 03, 2012 Miquel Codony rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

“When something is new and hard and bright, there ought to be something a little better for it than just being safe, since the safe things are just the things that folks have been doing so long they have worn the edges off and there's nothing to the doing of them that leaves a man to say, That was not done before and it cannot be done again.”

Reseñar una novela que te desborda es un reto insuperable. ¿Cómo reflejar, en pocos párrafos y sin demasiados recursos críticos, la complejidad y los múltip...more

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Feb 07, 2009 Stefani rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

I think it's very easy to dismiss this book as boring, nonsensical, and difficult to follow at first. I felt frustrated by the dialogue of some of the less articulate characters, such as Anse, who tended to repeat the same sentence over and over until the repitition played like a broken record in your head; "She's a-going, her mind is set on it,". However, the more I read, the more the dialogue began to make sense to me and more like a true reflection of what each character was thinking in an un...more

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Nov 09, 2012 Ginny rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Una storia impervia e dissacrante, tragica e al tempo stesso grottesca, che sconcerta per la spietata lucidità con la quale disseziona i sentimenti e traccia il percorso di esistenze senza scelta e senza speranza, irrimediabilmente votate alla solitudine più cupa.
L’epico viaggio della famiglia Bundren alla volta di Jefferson, con la bara di Addie precariamente trasportata su un vecchio carro sgangherato, più che un atto d’amore o di dedizione volto a esaudire le ultime volontà della madre defun...more Una storia impervia e dissacrante, tragica e al tempo stesso grottesca, che sconcerta per la spietata lucidità con la quale disseziona i sentimenti e traccia il percorso di esistenze senza scelta e senza speranza, irrimediabilmente votate alla solitudine più cupa.
L’epico viaggio della famiglia Bundren alla volta di Jefferson, con la bara di Addie precariamente trasportata su un vecchio carro sgangherato, più che un atto d’amore o di dedizione volto a esaudire le ultime volontà della madre defunta, diviene una sorta di sfida, una lotta all’ultimo sangue contro il Fato, nella quale ciascuno dei protagonisti mette in campo le proprie meschinità, il proprio egoismo, i propri rancori.
In un luglio torrido e piovoso, tra inondazioni, incendi e avversità di ogni genere, il macabro corteo impiega una decina di giorni a raggiungere la sua destinazione, mentre il cadavere avanza nel suo processo di putrefazione e si sgretolano penosamente i già fragili equilibri dei personaggi. Ciascuno è immerso nel proprio dramma privato, ciascuno nasconde segreti, desideri, ossessioni, paure. E la tragedia è in agguato, come gli avvoltoi che seguono implacabili la marcia della bizzarra comitiva fino all’happy end beffardo fatto di nuovi denti, di una nuova moglie e di una famiglia allo sfascio.
La tecnica narrativa è quella cara a Faulkner di monologhi affidati a personaggi diversi, che qui viene ulteriormente frantumata in capitoli talora brevissimi (magnifico il “Mia madre è un pesce” del figlio minore Vardaman!) che hanno come titolo il nome del protagonista narrante.
Il virtuosismo camaleontico dell’autore gli permette di calarsi con uguale efficacia nei panni di un uomo o di una donna, di un vecchio, di un giovane o di un bambino, di un saggio o di un folle. E di consegnarci pagine crudeli e struggenti, come l'unico monologo tutto al femminile di Addie; e di definire figure toccanti nella loro umile generosità, come Cash...o consapevoli e tormentate come Darl...o tenere e smarrite come il piccolo Vardaman...
Quindi per Faulkner ancora una volta più voci monologanti; ancora una volta passioni violente; ancora una volta un capolavoro indimenticabile.(less)

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May 28, 2012 Melanie rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: favourites

Surely there is no other writer like Faulkner, who signs over the mind and heart of his characters to the reader, leaving you to flounder in that strange territory. Faulkner is no translator, he offers the challenge: become them. It is difficult, off-putting but even when I thought I was flailing, I was still loving it. There are so many stunning passages, one of my favorites:

"While I waited for him in the woods, waiting for him before he saw me, I would think of him as dressed in sin. I would...more

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Jul 13, 2012 Zack Najarian-Najafi marked it as to-read · review of another edition

Shelves: to-re-read

As I Lay Dying may be one of the most profound and hilarious novels I've read in a long time. Coming off of The Sound and the Fury, Faulkner here crafts a tighter work, heavier on plot, character and emotion than experimentation. That's not to say Faulkner doesn't enjoy playing games. As I Lay Dying is narrated in turns by fifteen different characters who all give a different perspective on the Bundren Family's ill-fated journey across the Mississippi countryside to bury their matriarch Addie. A...more

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May 25, 2011 James rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: fiction

William Faulkner's As I Lay Dying presents the account of one family's mission to bury their mother in a distant city. Written shortly after the somber The Sound and the Fury, this short novel presents human existence as an absurd joke. Addie Bundren claims her final resting place should be near her relatives in Jefferson, Mississippi as opposed to at home. Told from the perspectives of 15 characters--including Bundren family members and local residents, the constant change in point of view can...more

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Dec 13, 2011 Dominic rated it 5 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Shelves: classic-literature, favorites

Every writer, I must think, wonders if language is enough. Can words capture the human experience? Surely that was the Modernist's essential question--for much of their work alienates casual readers and even challenges them to throw it across the room. As I Lay Dying, like the work of other Modernists like Virginia Woolf, James Joyce and T.S. Eliot, requires hard work. Inspired by the Cubists, Dadists and the Surrealists, William Faulkner sets out here to answer questions about the nature of art...more Every writer, I must think, wonders if language is enough. Can words capture the human experience? Surely that was the Modernist's essential question--for much of their work alienates casual readers and even challenges them to throw it across the room. As I Lay Dying, like the work of other Modernists like Virginia Woolf, James Joyce and T.S. Eliot, requires hard work. Inspired by the Cubists, Dadists and the Surrealists, William Faulkner sets out here to answer questions about the nature of art, the palpability of human feeling and experience, and the point where words fail. And for a writer, that is scary ground indeed because words are the essence of what they do!

The story of As I Lay Dying is certainly a grim one. The work is essentially a several mile journey (or as I've been calling it, a death-parade) of Addie Bundren's corpse rattling around in her coffin by her impoverished, broken husband and her five unfinished works of art--her children (my favorite was the strange, other-worldly Darl with his sixth and seventh senses). Faulkner's pathos is so deep and palpable, that when he pairs it with grim, dark comedy so dark that I could hardly even see with, it literally chilled my bones. Even the final moment of comedy (which is unmistakable) left me trembling. Faulkner leaves me stunned again and again at the incredible absurdity of life--and when you stop to think about it, life is incredibly absurd. Sometimes it seems the only way to understand it is through the darkest of comedy.

As I Lay Dying is undeniably a Modernist masterpiece told in 59 (I believe it's 59) interior monologues that consistently overlap, sometimes startle themselves out of order, and continuously beguile the reader. Faulkner would eventually go on to write a different, somewhat more straightforward type of narrative in the second half of the 1930s, somewhat abandoning the dizzying approach of As I Lay Dying, which makes me wonder if he came to some epiphany about the nature of written art and what language can possibly do. I wonder. But there is no question that As I Lay Dying stands as a towering achievement, a beautiful-grotesque puzzle worth sorting out.(less)

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Nov 16, 2009 K.D. Oliveros rated it 4 of 5 stars · review of another edition Recommends it for: Tata J

Recommended to K.D. by: 1001 Must Read Books Before You Die

This is my first book of William Faulkner - one of the greatest American novelist. I am not giving him a 5-star rating because this is one of the hardest-to-read novels since I started my reading obsession a year back. Normally, it takes me only up to 20 pages for me to adjust to the rhythm of the novelist for his characters to form life. However, I was already on page 40 and I could not understand what I was reading. I had to Google the book to know that the chapter titles are actually the name...more This is my first book of William Faulkner - one of the greatest American novelist. I am not giving him a 5-star rating because this is one of the hardest-to-read novels since I started my reading obsession a year back. Normally, it takes me only up to 20 pages for me to adjust to the rhythm of the novelist for his characters to form life. However, I was already on page 40 and I could not understand what I was reading. I had to Google the book to know that the chapter titles are actually the names of the Bundren children narrating the stories.

Maybe I also had lots of distractions as I read this in my second (and final) week of stay here in Columbus, Ohio. I actually picked this book because I wanted to enjoy the being in the USA (reading an American author while in America). I mostly read this before going to bed and it took me four nights finishing just a 250+ not densely written book.

The story is about burying a mother whose last wish is for her corpse to be laid in her own hometown. The mother had 5 children. Cash, the eldest who is a carpenter and whose broken leg was cemented. Darl, the second who narrated most of the 49 chapters. Jewel, who is the result of the mother's illicit affair with a reverend. Dewey Dell, the only girl and who got pregnant out of wedlock and Vardamain, the youngest who refused to belive that his mother is dead ("My mother is a fish" he says).

The voices who narrated are distinct from each other. I read somewhere that it was a fad during that time in American literature but I found it interested (I had never seen anything like that before this). There were full of grammatical mistakes and vague statements. However, I also read that Faulkner's intention is not to directly inform the reader but to present the thoughts playing in the mind of its characters just like when you are alone in the elevator. Faulkner did this very effectively.

I was able to relate my own late father to that of Anse (the husband of the mother) who refused to work because he if perspire, he will will die. When I was growing up, my father most of the time did not work because he was asthmatic and he tired out easily. Despite that, Anse was a loving father and so was my dad.

This book is among the 1001 Must Read Books Before You Die and William Faulker is a Nobel Prize for Literature awardee just like my favorites John Steinbeck and Gabriel Garcia Marquez. However, I am ranking him lower than those two because I was able to enjoy The Grapes of Wrath and One Hundred Years of Solitude which are those two authors' magnum opuses. I read somewhere also that William Faulker calls this novel (his fifth, as his magnum opus but I am not yet convinced that he is in the same ranking as Steinbeck and G.G. Marquez. He is more of a Hemingway type (with those dream sequences) to me.(less)

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