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366 pages, Paperback
First published October 7, 1929
Clocks slay time... time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.
The day dawned bleak and chill. A moving wall of grey light out of the northeast which, instead of dissolving into moisture, seemed to disintegrate into minute and venomous particles ...It's an apt metaphor for the Compson family's disintegration.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,Benjy's literally meaningless sound and fury is the most obvious reference here, but in a broader sense it's about the Compson family generally ... though their distressing tale actually has deep significance to us as readers. Faulkner made me work so hard to put the puzzle pieces together, with stream-of-consciousness and non-linear storytelling, that when I was able to understand the elusive parts of the story, it felt like a major achievement for me as well as him.
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.