Wadlington, Warwick.“The Sound and the Fury: A Logic of Tragedy.”American Literature, Vol. 53, No. 3 (Nov., 1981), pp. 409-423
Upon my initial reading of the scholarly article I chose, I was dismissive at the central thesis of the inherent dichotomous logic in The Sound and the Fur, regarding it as another example of overly interpretive, “bad” literary criticism—although not nearly as bad as the article describing how The Sun Also Rises’s Jake Barnes’s adventures through Paris were a metaphor for WWI. Yet, when I stumbled upon a passage regarding Benjy’s structured perspective of everyone and everything, I was intrigued and decided not to search for another article.
The article’s alliteratively named author, Warwick Wadlington, contends that Benjy “reduces everything to an unqualified opposition (Caddy and not-Caddy).” According to Wadlington, Benjy’s world is black and white. He cites the first scene of the novel as evidence, commenting that “the mental landscape is without middle ground or nuance—there is only this side of the fence or that side of the fence.” Moreover, Wadlington even asserts that Benjy’s narrative outlook is a “proper introduction to the Compson experience of life.” For Benjy, there is an inherent order to his life, despite his profound mental retardation, an element reeking of paradox.
Yet, this potentially paradoxical element is what I found most provocative, even if it was not the focus of the article. Wadlington’s assertion that there is a natural logic to Benjy’s understanding of his surroundings makes sense on two different levels. The first and the more obvious of the two is that it is only reasonable to assume that Benjy’s narration would be overly reductionist considering his own intellectual capabilities. While this is not my main concern, it is worth noting that Faulkner creates another distinct dichotomy between the sophistication of his mental faculties when viewed through an external perspective—notably Luster’s—and through Benjy’s internal monologue. Although his silent discourse has several gaps, it nevertheless displays understanding. Returning to Wadlington’s contention that Benjy defines his world in terms of Caddy and not-Caddy, it is important to circularly note that this logic is, well, logical. For Benjy, the most important figure in the world is his sister, Caddy, because she is the one who shows the most genuine affection for him. Repeatedly, Benjy explains his relationship with Caddy in terms of binary possibilities: she smells like trees, or she does not smell like trees—there is no middle ground.
Although, Wadlington’s argument concerning Beny’s strict binary perspective makes a resonating point—a point that’s significantly textually supported—I disagree with his claim that Benjy’s outlook is a the proper introduction to the rest of the Compson family as he argues it is. Wadlington is under the impression that this era of logic that characterizes Benjy’s perspective is inherent in the tragic lives of the other Compson family members. Caddy seems to be a perfect counter example to this argument, considering her dilemma surrounding her need for marriage to avoid the scandal of the public knowing her past sexual indiscretion(s). Her situation is extremely nuanced, unlike Benjy’s. Furthermore, I cannot help but sense that Wadlington makes a passing insinuation that Faulkner incorporated Benjy’s perspective for the explicit purpose of introducing the life of the Compsons. If that is Wadlington’s intention, then I have to vehemently disagree: the first scene provides a face-valu e—gap-ridden, however—account of events that affected various members of the Compson family, an account that differs significantly from the later emotionally biased perspectives of Quentin and Jason.
While I found fault with some of Wadlington’s assertions, the most egregious error was his decision to not expand upon his brief mentioning of Benjy’s logic. It would have been a fascinating read if the focus had been about the logical structure in the understanding of someone who is anything but “logical.” I was extremely disappointed when I continued reading after this brief section, and there was no further analysis of the topic, only a bizarre assertion about an implicit metaphorical battle in the discourse and actions of the Compson characters. It would be delightful if Wadlington ever published another article that focused on the “logic of retardation,” although, considering his analysis was published seventeen years ago, it is unfortunately unlikely. (691)
