Sanctuary by William Faulkner

William Faulkner's novel Sanctuary has the distinction of being the first book I've read in 2008. In short, it was horrendous. A short novel page-wise, although it seems much longer content wise, that is filled with the trappings one comes to expect from Faulkner, the southern setting, a large cast of characters, dense passages of impenetrable text, and what appears to be a total disconnect from the reality that most of us experience. Faulkner is renowned for his characters, some of whom appear to be the product of some form of incest or just happen to be afflicted with numerous mental deficiencies, and Sanctuary is littered with these very types, from Tommy, a stereotypical man-child, to Popeye, an impotent murderer/rapist, to Temple Drake, the main victim of Popeye's violence and sadism who also serves as the one character from civilization; she's a judge's daughter. This is usually a given when approaching a Faulkner novel, and it seems it's something that Cormac McCarthy's novels have picked up on as well, and while the difference between the two writers is vast enough, one can't help but wonder what impression either is trying to convey by littering their writing with these types of people. Furthermore, what Faulkner was pushing for in this novel is anyone's guess. He apparently stated that it was written solely for money at a time when pulp fiction was incredibly popular. However, it's hard to believe that Faulkner was even familiar with the trappings of the tales of Raymond Chandler when this is the type of knock off he produced.

The problems with the novel are numerous, but what stood out for me is the fact that the characters act in ways that are so far removed from how people act in reality, it's hard to generate any sort of feelings, ill or not, about them. A good portion of the novel takes place at the home of some bootleggers where Popeye and other associates linger about in what can only be described as a living nightmare. A sickly baby is kept in box behind the stove, Gowan Stevens, Temple's escort, spends the majority of the novel in a drunken stupor and is the sole reason for their being stranded at the house, a blind old man shuffles about and may or may not have eyes (presumably he's the father of the owner, Lee Goodwin), and Lee's wife, Ruby, when not checking on the child, spends her entire day preparing meals for the numerous criminals and miscreants who frequent the front porch of their house. Pages go by where Gowan and Temple are seemingly held hostage at this house, and the bizarre events that transpire are right out of a horror movie, specifically I was reminded of the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Both in that film and this book, young people are held against their will by a family, in the loosest, sense of the term and terrorized for no apparent reason. In that film, though, it's a question of whether or not anyone is going to survive. In this book, you're never given the sense that it's even a question worth asking yourself. It just seems like a never ending nightmare. Incredibly, it doesn't end there.

Temple is later kept captive at a brothel that Popeye frequents, even though he's impotent and has no way to actually engage with the women there. Again, it's Faulkner's hallucinatory writing that suggests a break from reality that one can't really accept or figure out entirely. Furthermore, one can't be sure, but Temple's fragile mental state appears to be the result of Popeye raping her at the bootlegger's farm. It is further exacerbated by the fact the Popeye enlists another man to have sexual relations with Temple as he watches. Why this doesn't work, however, is that it's beyond ambiguous. The scene in question is written in such a manner that it's impossible to determine what occurs in the hayloft that Temple is hiding in other than the fact that Popeye kills Tommy. Subsequent references to her bleeding and the visits by a doctor seem to confirm that she's been raped, but it's too poorly written and bizarrely portrayed to feel like you've witnessed something awful. Finally, it's hard to accept the notion that she's being held captive in this place. Popeye comes and goes, but Temple just stays there. Why? It's suggested that she's been mentally scared and drinking heavily, but it doesn't account for why she just doesn't leave.

The rest of the novel centers around the nonsensical trial of Lee Goodwin for the murder of Tommy. Henry Benbow, a lawyer who left his wife and daughter for no apparent reason, serves as his counsel. Basically, we're witnesses to a public lynching and a poor attempt at courtroom drama.

What makes this book frustrating is that there's nothing in it to suggest that Faulkner was aiming to achieve something other than telling a straightforward story. There's no hidden symbols or writing that one is accustomed to seeing in the modernism of the time, or even in any of Faulkner's other books. Faulkner has admitted that this was done purely for money, although that's up for debate, but he also did some heavy editing on it as well, which leads one to believe that he was proud of this work and tried to polish it somewhat. It stands as one of his failures, though, and a not very interesting one at that.