Customer Reviews

Light in August

5 star:		(27)
4 star:		(15)
3 star:		(5)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

Faulkner's was a self-indulgent, irresponsible, uneven gift. But at his best, as sometimes in these pages, he is a poet and rhapsodist without equal, and we continue to read him. As a rational thinker he was a nullity; he had no practical insights, no social program, no agendum, no framework that could serve as a starting point toward a solution of the problems he so tellingly describes. This became abundantly clear around the time of his winning the Nobel prize for literature, when he disappointed and exasperated followers who were looking to him for guidance as to a beacon. At least Faulkner had the self-knowledge to know that he did not know, did not in fact even want to know. For knowledge was inimical to his art, not-wanting-to-know a precondition for it. That, and bourbon. The bourbon released his inhibitions and silenced his inner editor (its voice had never been loud), unleashing a torrent of words, much of it bilge but some diamonds too. The result in Light in August is an exasperating novel that contains some thirty scattered pages of the highest poetic value and one potentially great character in the person of Joe Christmas. I say this as a man of 54 who has read the book five times in the course of his life, having been introduced to it in high school. Of course I didn't understand much of it then, but its inimitable style and voluptuous confusion have beckoned me back to it.

One is attracted above all by the descriptions of the simple processes of life in all their earthy particulars, the negro cabins, the town lights, the smells, everything rank and dark and elemental. Except for Joe Christmas and possibly Gail Hightower, the characters are all stereotypes, especially the women. Intellectually, there is little of substance in the novel, its appeal is entirely emotional. There is a clean, bracing no-nonsense description of hypermasculine elements and experiences to which Joe seems to gravitate naturally. For instance, of McEachern's harness strap ("clean, like the shoes, and it smelled like the man smelled: an odor of clean hard virile living leather") and Joe's rapt expression when being beaten by it; of Joe's preference for the clean, hard air of men. Given his latent homosexuality, one feels Joe would have done much better as a votary of the strap. But there was a problem. Biologically he was wired for pussy, and no mistake. Even as a child in the orphanage with the dietician he showed this susceptibility: "On that first day when he discovered the toothpaste in her room he had gone directly there, who had never heard of toothpaste either, as if he already knew that she would possess something of that nature and he would find it." He was still too young to understand what Charley was enjoying, but when he came of age he learned that it too, like the toothpaste, was not always sweet ("periodic filth between two moons suspended"). Unfortunately, Joe had no use for the rest of the package and never learned to like and appreciate women as people. This was the root of his troubles with women and by cutting him off from a source of life helped to seal his doom.

Several reviewers have stated that Joe had some negro blood. This is an error and is refuted by the evidence given in the book, although it suits Faulkner (if not Joe) to make Joe out as a possible negro and even to foist him off as one. I think Faulkner's device here, of using the negro as the ultimate symbol of the outcast, is a dreadful mistake, so serious as even to call into question his integrity as an artist and his understanding of his greatest character. Why? Partly because it is too easy, too cheap a shot. It's also overkill, since Joe's alienation has already been powerfully delineated by other, artistic means. But the main, the fatal objection, is that raising the N question does great damage by introducing confusion precisely where the novel demands clarity and restraint -- it entangles Joe's problem of identity with something completely separate and other. This other is a serious communal problem in its own right and certainly should not be abused as a symbol in the way that Faulkner abuses it (neither should the word Christmas). Faulkner is monkeying around with things bigger than himself, things he does not understand, in an attempt to endow his work with a greater significance than he was capable of developing on his own horsepower as a creative writer; this is what I mean when I say he is irresponsible. Joe's problem is in fact his alone. Damaged in childhood and partly cut off from the sources of life, he has to renew and rebuild himself to a degree not necessary to his complacent countrymen, who by virtue of their utter mediocrity are granted automatic membership in small, stultifying, inbred towns like the one in which the action unfolds. Faulkner's punishment is swift and certain -- it is precisely here in the book that he begins to stumble, to overreach for a grand synthesis that isn't there. The performance is increasingly over-the-top until eventually artistic control is lost. He doesn't seem to grasp the limitations of his creations, and the book becomes a stew. Faulkner was nothing if not confused, and here alas the confusion damages the work. Where was that inner editor?

After the murder, a building momentum sweeps the reader on to the end. However, there is no true catharsis and no real tragedy, only an overreaching for a grand synthesis that fails. The reader is struck by the feeling that something has gone wrong, and on going back finds he has been the victim of a swindle. The book closes with that sucker Byron Bunch in tow with his damaged goods in the form of Lena Grove and her bastard infant. Faulkner seems to be saying that in spite of some mistakes, life has returned to its immemorial path. But if this is salvation, one must be glad for Joe that he is safely dead and out of harm's way. Not everyone is cowed by the eternal feminine, and Joe himself would have no trouble giving the Lena Groves of the world what they deserve -- the back of his hand.

So after forty years and five attempts at this book, what of value can I take away? Perhaps some thirty pages of beautiful poetry, and the memory of Joe Christmas. He sought to rebuild and renew himself through the transformative power of hard physical labor and I would like to leave him there, continuing now and forever on the roads he freely chose for himself, that run "through yellow wheat fields waving beneath the fierce yellow days of labor and hard sleep in haystacks beneath the cold mad moon of September, and the brittle stars."

William Faulkner is a genius when it comes to creating a plot that will always relate to society. However, I must say that although the writing style was magnificent, it was too wordy in the sense that it could almost send anyone into a world of monotony.

This is a fine book; a character study of numerous characters and a representation of how the demons of the past can come to consume those living today. I do not wish to rhapsodize on the story of race--that is evident within the text and, honestly, is not the main point or the actual sin of the story. Race is less concept then consciousness in this book and the idea of 'racism', here, is more inbred than an actual physical hatred: a part of tradition and learning than something violent people go crazy about. Joe Christmas is someone torn, who is constantly choosing sides until he can no longer be anything. This, as a result, makes him an actual individual, a person outside such superficial considerations and therefore not really qualified to exist in this world. All of the primary characters are outsiders of one sort--all of them are equal and all are fundementally the same in their yearning.

A very powerful book with a unique vision of the way the world works . . .

This book is no more about racism than was Twain's 'Pudd'nhead Wilson', though both certainly do address bigotry. It address the anxiety of living in the Modern world. It addresses extremes of nature and nurture and much of what lies in between. It is my favorite Faulkner novel and probably the greatest American novel written by a Modern writer.

When I began reading this book it was in the hope and belief that it would extend my expectations of Faulkner based on his earlier works. Days later, I finished it and threw my copy into the trash, having concluded (in pity, despair, and utter revulsion) that Faulkner was after all of sound mind and still possessed of his literary genius as he wrote.
Unquestionably, the text is illuminated with his gift for words and the rhythm of his sentences. Short sections of it sing, as does the work of no other living author. The theme too (racial identity and its problems both for individuals and for the world) ix a familiar one today, and so appeals to modern readers. Faulkner brings the sufferings of Joe Christmas, his protagonist, to vivid life.
But all of this, for me, was washed away by the increasing incidence of sadism as the story continued, sadism so vividly and seemingly enthusiastically repeated as to repel even this hardened reader. As it all went on, I entertained the thought that Faukner working on it must have been teetering on the verge of a nervous breakdown! The theory was dispelled in "The Oxford Companion," which devotes much space to a plot synopsis of the book. (Even this laborious task, however, flags in its basic effort to summarize the novel's plot--some of which came to me as a surprise!) I will read with interest other (and differing) reviews.

Faulkner... well, you either love him, or you don't. I don't love him, but I can appreciate his work. His story winds around and around. Some of his sentences just go on and on and on. If you can get past all of that, this is a good story. The characters are well-drawn and the specifics of the story were well worth the read.

Faulkner may be one of the more difficult writers to read, but his works are well worth the effort. Light in August is no exception. It is a truly remarkable story. The 4 stars simply differentiate the best from the very best. Although this book is not as complicated as As I Lay Dying or The Sound and the Fury, it contains many of the same ingenious qualities regarding point of view and time.

The real difference here is that in those books, Faulkner was concerned with the consciousness of the individual characters themselves while here we are dealing with the relationship of the consciousness with the external forces of nature/nurture and the outside world.

This is a story about racism in the south. Although the story line itself covers only a few days, the book refers back two generations. Each of the main characters, Christmas, Hightower, and Burden are dominated by racism in different ways. It is racism and their reaction to it that brings them to their ultimate end. Most of the other characters and the town itself are also driven by the same demon. It boils down to the simplicity of white is good while black is evil with the shades in between being a transition from one to the other. When Christmas puts on the black boots of a negro, his transition from white to black is complete and he is then prepared to accept his fate.

The only character untouched by racism is the unwed and pregnant Lena. Interestingly the white father of her child who runs to escape his responsibility is called Brown(the one truly unlikable character in the book). Lena literally strolls into town and the story at the beginning and strolls out at the end, untouched by the happenings. Her ignorance of her personal moral shortcomings also insulate her from the moral shortcomings of a racist society.

Does this storyline make this novel outdated today? Absolutely not. It may be even more true today than then. Today people's reaction to racism or perceived racism is driven more by outside influences than internal feelings or experiences and those who ignore those influences are like Lena and go on with their lives not to be dominated by it.

Faulkner is one of the truly great American writers. I ignored him for 50 years and have now read 4 of his novels in the last 2 years. I've enjoyed them all.

William Faulkner's Light in August set in the south at times of slavery. What seems to be a tale of an ambitious, determined pregnant woman hitch-hiking out from Alabama to look for the child's father evokes the lives of a skein of interesting characters whose lives readers will not easily forget.

Lena Grove was pregnant with Lucas Burch's child. She set out from Alabama for Jefferson, Mississippi to search for the man who promised to send for her as he settled down with a job at the mill. Welled with anticipation and hope, Lena arrived at the plant only to realize that she had mistaken Byron Bunch for Lucas Burch.

As soon as the search shed lights Faulkner takes away Lena from his readers and defers her until the end of the book. Joe Christmas, a man with mixed ancestry (part white and part Mexican) somehow befriended with Lucas Burch who carried a fictitious identity "Brown" and colluded in bootlegging whiskey.

A substantial coverage of the book recounts Joe Christmas's childhood in an orphanage, his abused adolescence under the McEacherns, his mystifying affair with a slave advocate Miss Burden, and his apprehension after he allegedly burned down the house in which Burden resided in and thus murdered her. Brown sold him out for the thousand-dollar reward.

Byron Bunch, if not dredging overtime at the mill, would visit and keep accompany of Reverent Gail Hightower, who had be expelled by the elders in town after his adulterous wife committed suicide in Memphis. The ex-minister inherited a small income, gave arts lessons and handpainted Christmas cards. He was constantly plagued by visions of Confederate horsemen who killed his grandfather.

So go back and forth the narratives of the book, over vast intervals of time. Byron Bunch, who was in the know of Lucas Burch's dual identity from the beginning, deftly dodged Lena from the truth but arranged her to settle down at Burch's cabin. Together with Lena, Byron also ascertained the identity of Joe Christmas when the Hines, an old couple from Mottstown, arrived in Jefferson.

I don't want to elaborate on the aspects of symbolism (this book has an abundance of them). The names could be symbolic (Christmas, Burden, Bunch, etc). The notion of race and skin color is outrageous in this book. Joe Christmas led a tragic life as a desperate, oppressed, enigmatic drifter who was irreparably consumed by his mixed ancestry. His very own grandfather talked of lynching him because of his copper, parchment-colored skin.

Political overtones seep through the book. Miss Burden's father moved back south from California and spent much time cursing slavery and slaveholders. I get the impression that the curse of the black race is God's curse, while the curse of the white race is those whom the white race has suppressed. The chapter on the reverent is so obscurely filled with dissertation on sins (some of the most arduous, tenacious reading of the entire book).

The structure of the novel is worth a discussion. With 21 chapters, Lena Grove's search for the father of her child is deferred until the very end. Faulkner barely mentions her in passing in Chapter 14 when she settles down in Jefferson. The third and the second-to-the-last chapters devote to Reverent Gail Hightower. From Byron Bunch seems to be sewing all the pieces together as he recounts all the happenings in town and Lena Grove to the reverent. So everything in between shrouds the story the Joe Christmas. The result is a concentric ring structure Faulkner has astutely and deftly constructed in the novel.

Light in August deftly captures the Southern life focusing both on the personal histories of his characters and the moral complexities and uncertainties of an increasingly dissolute, diverse (of which Joe Christmas is an epitome, nobody recognized him as part Mexican) society. The book is a unique combination of a plethora of symbolism and a stream-of-consciousness technique. The characters stay with readers. 4.0 stars.

This is a great story. It is the easiest book in terms of structure (as much as Faulkner can be easy!) by Faulkner that I have read. _Light in August_ has such a complicated plot, that I cannot even begin to summarize it and do a good job, but I will make an ill-fated attempt at doing so. Lena Grove is looking for the father of her child, and she finds her way to Jefferson, Mississippi. While in Jefferson she meets myriad characters, among them are Byron Bunch, who is in love with her; Joe Brown, the father of her baby; Joe Christmas, a confused man in search of his ancestry; and Gail Hightower, a former preacher who is haunted by his Grandfathers demise. And that is only a few of the characters. I don't think that this book is better than _The Sound and the Fury_, but I do think that it is far better than _As I Lay Dying_. It certainly is a masterpiece and deserves all of the critical acclaim that it has received. Every time I read William Faulkner I am blown away. He writes with such feeling and compassion. _Light in August_ cemented my inkling that Faulkner was the greatest writer America has ever produced.

William Faulkner's Light in August is a very wonderful story about various characters, each with real depth and character. The story is set in the South, in the early 1900's I believe. The main character is Joe Christmas, a very complex character who seems to have trouble fitting in, perhaps on account of his being of mixed race. But, there are other interesting, well-developed characters such as Reverend Hightower, Lena Grove, Joe Brown and Byron Bunch.

It's kind of hard to describe exactly what the plot of the novel is. But basically, it intertwines the tales of the aforementioned characters in Jefferson, Tennessee. A large portion of the novel concerns Joe Christmas' pursuit by the law after his suspected murder of a middle-aged woman.

The writing style in this novel is very interesting. It tends to delve into the mind of each of its characters, giving the reader a sense of the motivations behind their actions. As I said, the novel intertwines story and so it tends to jump back and forth in time shedding light on events and people in a very interesting manner. Faulkner does this very well, without doing it so much it becomes confusing.

I had originally read this novel 3 years ago as a junior in high school and for some reason I can't really explain, I just kind of felt I should read it again. So, I did and I'm glad I did because Light in August is a great novel. I haven't read anything else by Faulkner, so I can't compare it to any of his other works, but this novel is a pretty good read.