John Large

Faulkner is not for everyone. His stream of consciousness approach to narration can be frustrating or even boring to some readers. So I'm not going to say this is a must-read, but I would call it a should-try for lovers of literature as an art form. This is not a tidy tale about grief, family, mortality, and integrity, yet it's about all those things in a complicated, confused, uncomfortable, opaque ganglion of thoughts, hopes, and despairs. It's the kind of book that should be taken on its own terms, a book intended to evoke a feeling and spark curiosity, even empathy more than narrate a cohesive tale. It's messy, self-contradictory, even nonsensical at times, as real life so often is. At worst, I would say that the novel can come across as self-serving, but I believe the intention is there, and the feelings are real. So should you try it? Yes. Will you like it? I don't know, you're you! But I like it. And I've read it twice! So take that for what you will, you are free.