Ask yourself who was
dying during this journey,
who truly is "I."
Yes, I love Faulkner's novels. Yes, I've read this many times before. Yes, I still enjoy it. Blah, blah, blah.
"How often have I lain beneath rain on a strange roof, thinking of home."
Why don't I enter the Faux Faulkner contest? I don't know, other than the fact that it's on hiatus.
For those so inclined, this novel is more approachable than The Sound and The Fury.
"Aside from purely technical analysis, nothing can be said about [writing], except when it is bad; when it is good, one can only [read] and be grateful.” -paraphrasing W.H. Auden
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