The Sound and the Fury
From plot debriefs to key motifs, Thug Notes’ The Sound and the Fury Summary & Analysis has you covered with themes, symbols, important quotes, and more.
The Sound and the Fury (1929) | Written by: William Faulkner | Published by: Vintage
The Sound and the Fury (W. Faulkner)
Thug Notes Summary and Analysis
Sup baby? This week we breakin it down with The Sound and The Fury by William Faulkner.
Things ain’t goin so hot for the Compson family: Solid street cred and fat stacks of dat cold hard cash goin to sh**.
And speaking of sh**, this story is a straight clusterfu**. It’s all outta order, and if that ain’t enough: We gettin the lowdown from da three crazy Compson bruthas: Benjie, who mentally retarded, Quentin, the obsessive braniac, and Jason, who always actin like he got a stick up his ass.
The youngest brutha Benji ain’t makin sense of the world like most hustlas. Erry time this fool touch, hear, or smell something, he get thrown back to memories of his fine sistah Caddy. Back then, Benji would start Wiggin OUT whenever he would catch a whiff of Caddy skankin it up with some local hoods. Too bad for him, girl gets knocked up!
Benji’s older bro Quentin in a funk when he hear dat not only has Caddy lost her V-card, but she bout to marry some scrub named Herbert to cover up the shame. He all like “Naw girl. Don’t even think bout doing dat sh**. We should tell erryone we banged EACHOTHER, then BOUNCE.”
But Caddy tell Quentin she don’t wanna play that game.
Sick of this bleak-ass existence, Quentin tosses his ass right off into the Charles River.
But since Willy don’t give a FAULK, he gonna confuse the hell out of you by introducing another character named Quentin: Caddie’s baby-girl who the Compsons adopt.
With most errybody dead, Jason gotta run the Compson carnival and raise Miss Quentin. And dat fool so ice cold that he jacks just bout all dat change Caddie frontin for Missy Q.
But it ain’t long before Miss Quentin DONE dealing with Jason’s bullsh**. She busts outta that house, boosts a stack of Jason’s paper, and chunks deuce outta town.
As Jason hits the streets lookin for Miss Quentin, Disley, the Compson’s maid, takes Benjy to church where some out-of-town preacher lays down some righteous gospel.
Later, Benji ridin’ dirty family whip, gets smacked Jason, and keeps cruisin.
(off mic) Man what the hell kind of that?
When it comes to reading and not knowing what the hell is going on, this text brings it to the next level, B.
We given four different perspectives throughout this mess: First is Benjy, the simple fool who stuck in a timeless present where words like past and future ain’t mean a damn thing.
Then there’s the obsessive Quentin, who got such a raging hard-on for the past- and his sister- that he ain’t got no future.
Obsessions: Death and his sister’s virginity. of clocks, some broken, others not
And Jason. That jabroni always blamin other people for his problems. He spends so much time bitchin bout the future that he ain’t even got no “now”.
But the last section of this book ain’t like the others. The fourth part reads nice and smooth. Lot of scholarly homies call it Dilsey’s section, since she in the spotlight. Dilsey don’t sweat time like the sad-ass Compson crew. Naw, she got mad love for the big G and Christianity. So instead of lookin at just the past, present, or future, she all about eternity.
And you know what? This book so damn confusing and jacked up it takes an ETERNITY to read. Plus, nothing even happens! The hell? See, most books got a central complication that drives the story. But up in here, there ain’t no central event, playa. So what’s the point?
Well maybe that IS the point. If you bust out yo copy of MacBeth, you can check where Faulkner got the title from:
Sparky reads quote: “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.”
Just like MacBeezy sayin bout life, this book just a bunch of jabberin that don’t signify a damn thing. But that don’t mean the book saying life is meaningless. Naw, blood. The book got words that rep meaning, but it’s meaning that words can’t communicate.
Maybe Faulkner dropped us a lil’ somethin bout how we s’posed to read this bad boy. Peep the good Reverand spittin mad game at his sermon:
Sparky reads quote: “And the congregation seemed to watch with its own eyes while the voice consumed him, until he was nothing and they were nothing and there was not even a voice but instead their hearts were speaking to one another in chanting measures beyond the need for words” (183)
Even though yours truly spittin sick flows on the reg, I know it ain’t everything. Sometimes words ain’t good enough to describe life’s ups and downs. Sometimes you just gotta feel it, playa
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