ABSTRACT

Criticism of William Faulkner's novels has diverged conspicuously between two tendencies. Some of the most discerning have praised Faulkner highly; for instance, six years ago Mark Van Doren spoke of his possessing 'one of the greatest natural gifts to be found anywhere in America,' and Conrad Aiken's recent article in the Atlantic was on the whole constructively appreciative.l Even Henry Seidel Canby, after having written ofSanctuary that it showed 'no concern for significance,' 'no predilection for "ought," , came around two years later to say of Light in August, 'It is a novel ofextraordinary force and insight ... and filled with that spirit ofcompassion which saves those who look at life too closely from hardness and despair.... I think that no one can deny it the praise of life caught in its intensities both good and bad.' Yet much journalistic criticism ofFaulkner has continued to be detractory, sometimes even abusive; and such is almost always the tone toward him in those volumes on contemporary fiction which American professors write for their students and for one another.