a word about Faulkner's south

"Yoknapatawpha", the place.  Devilry and misgiving, the reason du tre, in the ignoble platiment, permaclay sediment root basin.

Crooks and halfwits coursing through the ruddy embers, and the thing in the sky, a ruddy ember, too, and all that, emblazoned something of a bloody blend of purple across the dreamsplatter of what would be blue sky.  Chem trails?  Something from God's eyes to our own?

Even the Indians had slaves, the native peoples in the Mississip, had negroid slaves that only knew what of the tongues of all the white and Original Americans, knew what they heard and that was all.

Ikkemotubbe had rode one of those two wheels around in Corpus Christi and Galveston, had rode the day boat across with his bicycle contraption resting against his knees as he cracked roasted peanut hulls and sipped some kind of "health tonic", some Doctor Harris's "Get Spry Before Your Ass Hits the Grass."  Kick in the nuts it was.

He was whistling, "Goodbye Porkpie Hat", what he knew of it, and he was remarking to himself in his think-train that he could make the contours of a woman's nipples under a new-fangled blouse, something French, maybe, the top.

There was the gay Snopes, the bitcoin thousandaire Snopes, and a few others, the distant cousin that was up at Parchman "till someone else's soil", pulling almost 12 years for a presumed murder of dubious circumstance and less evidence, sent up by almost a suggestion rather than any actual detail.

There was a youngun happening along with a peanut candy bar, and a few of them Snopes noticed him, the way wild dogs catch something on the wind, and they pounced as a pack, first encircling, then coming up on the boy.

Colonel Sartoris and them.  Bayard, and all.  Them people.



No comments:

Post a Comment

Thank you for your interest in the material. Feel free to post, and speak your mind. "Democracy is the conundrum in which good peoples repair."

Rolling on with Women's Month movie-watchin'.

Virginia Woolf:   She spoke of striving to find a new narrative method.   Mrs Dolloway?  Orlando?  To The Lighthouse? "You don't li...