ABSTRACT

Two writers have been struggling with each other for a long time inside the skin of William Faulkner. One of them is a stylized and morbid mystic attempting a sequence ofnovels on the scaleofan epic. The other, the less publicized but more authentic author, is a sharp and brilliant narrator ofshort stories. The peculiar promise of Faulkner has always been that he has never been able either to unite or to untangle his two powers within one book.