118
CALVIN ISRAEL
that
seems to fit Melville better than it does Bill Faulkner."
It was clear by now that Faulkner's inaction during the little girl's
fall could not be blamed on drinking. I was still puzzled by that detach–
ment, however, and I struggled to find a way to bring it up without
bluntness.
It
was apparent that Faulkner was a very shy and resen-'eo
man, and, at that moment at least, preferred many silences to lengthy
conversation. His eyes had found the knot of people gathered around a
folksinger who was entertaining at the large fountain.
In the previous December, N.B.C. had produced an adaptation of
Faulkner's novel,
The Sound and the Fury.
The production had been
received poorly by critics, and since I disagreed with their opinions I
thought Faulkner might be interested in the reasons.
"By the way, Mr. Faulkner," I began, "I happened to see the TV
play of
The Sound and the Fury
a few months ago, and I think the
critics were wrong - but they were also right."
His attention returned to me. "Oh," he said, "I've been giving that
a lot of thought, too."
"I think," I went on, "if someone who saw the TV play didn't
know the book, he would have found the play hard to follow - but if
he knew the book, the play was fine."
"I've been thinking some things like that, son," Faulkner said. He
lifted the Tyrolean hat and rubbed hard at the hair over his temple. In
the sunlight his hair was more iron-grey than the white which appears
in such strong contrast to his moustache in photographs. "Durkee's job,"
he added.
He replaced his hat and watched me light a cigarette. He had
shaken his head at my offer of one, and he seemed to be studying the
insignificant actions I made in lighting up.
"Well, son," he said, "you seem to be spending too much time
thinking about Bill Faulkner. Anything else you want to tell me?"
"There's only one other thing I can think of at this moment, Mr.
Faulkner," I answered, "and I'm afraid I disagree with you on that
interview in which you made the 'go slow in the South' statement."
"I didn't say
that,"
Faulkner said quickly. "You don't - lots of
people just don't understand what I said."
He got up suddenly and I stood up also. I was struck by how
small he was.
"Violence," he said.
"If
you mean, Mr. Faulkner, that the danger
IS
violence, then m
my opinion it is worth all the chance."
