The name William Faulkner evokes a great deal of respect (and perhaps fear) from readers. He is known for long sentences that span more than one page. He is inescapably deep – an abyss. He sees into the Southern American male experience as no other and draws out truths that apply to all of humanity. His allure extends from the South into New England, across the Atlantic to France and down the isthmus to Latin America.

To be successful, a biographer of Faulkner has to be utterly in-touch with himself/herself. Parini seems up to the task, though even he self-consciously doubts his portrait in the conclusion. He tries to tie together Faulkner’s life and writings into one coherent unit. He succeeds in my measure even though I still get lost in the depthlessness of the characters in Yoknapatawpha County, Mississippi.

Parini delineates with relative objectivity “Bill” Faulkner’s failed marriage, his affairs, the adoration of his daughter Jill, and Bill’s ever-expanding mastery of his financial and economic situation. Parini tackles Faulkner’s brilliant speech in Stockholm to accept the Nobel Prize with an equanimity worth of the moment. As with any good biography, I leave with the feeling that I have known Faulkner and that I have known the author.

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“I discovered that my own little postage stamp of native soil was worth writing about and that I would never live long enough to exhaust it, and that by sublimating the actual into the apocryphal I would have the complete liberty to use whatever talent I might have to its absolute top.”

“It is my ambition to be, as a private individual, abolished and voided from history, leaving it markless, no refuse save the printed books.”

“In Faulkner, the grotesque typically emerges in terms of the horrific. He presents a wide array of twisted old spinsters, compulsive sadists, eccentric lovers of beasts, incestuous brothers and fathers, unfeeling mothers, and toothless wonders who revel in the base forms of human behavior.”

In this outstanding biography, the author mentions that one does not read Faulkner, but rereads him. I think that is an excellent observation and it is one that highlights my failing, in regards to this difficult southern author. Yes, I have read and enjoyed several of his classic novels, but I have only taken a peek, a mere glimpse at what, this writer is trying to convey, so my appreciation is limited. I better get busy, catching up with his "must-read" books, plus the inevitable "rereading".

I knew very little about Faulkner's life, which was the reason I wanted to read this bio and I can't imagine another biographer doing a better job, casting an intense spotlight on this man's history, which is endlessly fascinating. Parini is also an excellent writer, in his own right, so the narrative hums along like a song:

“In the end, however, William Faulkner stands alone, a master of tragic farce, a wild-eyed comedian, a raconteur of the highest order, still sitting around the campfire in the Big Woods, still talking in the thousands of pages that remain his legacy.” ( )

A fine telling of the life of writer William Faulkner, intercut with 'essays' on the writers work. Faulkner's renown, I feel, rests on two key aspects: his focus on, and passion for, a singular place, and his experimental writing, which could both awe and enrage his readers. This 'telling' of his life is both accessible and has narrative drive (Parini is also a novelist).

I've read maybe four of Faulkner's novels (one twice), and wondered whether reading summaries of his books might spoil the reading of the other books, but soon realised that I'd forgotten much of the detail of the books I'd read, so likely would have forgotten the summaries. What I hadn't forgotten was the tone and the feeling of reading the books, and some of the imagery.

Of his personal life, although far from uncommon, I found his drinking painful to hear about. His repeated visits to hospital after heavy intakes of alcohol consumption were painful examples of self-harm, that no-one seemed able to guide him away from.

A gentleman of the South, with manners, kindness and loyalty, yet still able to craft such scurrilous behaviours in many of his characters.

As Parini says, one doesn't read Faulkner, one rereads Faulkner. One might add, Faulkner didn't write, he rewrote.

I decided to go online and see if I could find a recording of Faulkner's voice, there are many. Interestingly, when I read his books, I heard a slow, Southern drawl, but in reality, he reads his work at quite a clip. I wonder if that will change how I hear his work going forward.

From [As I Lay Dying] : https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=upVi3BX5mUw ( )

Not as detailed as the Blotner but more accessible. Not as good as Parini's bio of Frost, though. Made me want to reread The Sound and the Fury. ( )

Not as detailed as the Blotner but more accessible. Not as good as Parini's bio of Frost, though. Made me want to reread The Sound and the Fury. ( )