Biblioklept

William Faulkner: Yes, sir.

Unidentified participant: Sir, it has been argued that “A Rose for Emily” is a criticism of the North, and others have argued saying that it is a criticism of the South. Now, could this story, shall we say, be more properly classified as a criticism of the time?

William Faulkner: Now that I don’t know because I was simply trying to write about people. The writer uses environment—what he knows—and if there’s a symbolism in which the—the lover represented the North and the—and the—the woman who murdered him represents the South, I don’t say that’s not valid and not there, but it was no intention of the writer to—to say, “Now let’s see, I’m going to write a piece in which I will—will use a symbolism for the North and another symbol for the South,” that he was simply writing about people, a story which he thought was—was tragic and true because it—it came out of the—out of the human heart, of human aspiration, the human—the conflict of—of conscience with—with glands, with the Old Adam. It was a conflict not between the North and South so much as between, well, you might say, God and Satan.
Yes, sir.

Unidentified participant: Sir, just a little more on that thing. You say it’s a conflict between God and Satan. Well, I don’t quite understand what—what you mean there. Who is—did one represent the […]?

William Faulkner: The conflict was—was in Miss Emily, that she knew that you do not murder people. She was—she had been trained that—that—that you do not take a lover, you marry. You don’t take a lover. She had broken all the—the—the laws of her tradition, her background, and she had finally broken the law of God, too, which says you do not take human life. And she knew she was doing wrong, and that’s why her—her own life was wrecked. Instead of having murdered one lover, and then to go on and—and take another and when she used him up to murder him, she was expiating her crime.
Yes, ma’am.

Unidentified participant: But can’t a person like Miss Emily, though she did do all the things that she had been taught not to, and being a sensitive sort of a woman, it was sure to have told on her, but do you think it’s fair to feel pity for her because, in a way, she made her adjustment, and it seemed to have wound up in a happy sort of a way—certainly tragic—but maybe it suited her just fine.

William Faulkner: Yes, it may have, but then I don’t think that—that one should withhold pity simply because the—the subject of the pity, object of the pity, is pleased and satisfied. I think the—the pity is in—in the—the human striving against its own nature, against its own conscience. That’s what deserves the pity. It’s not the fate of the individual. It’s man in conflict with his heart or with his fellows or with his environment. That’s—that’s what deserves the pity. It’s not that the man suffered or that he fell off the house or was run over by the train. It’s that he was—that man is trying to do the best he can with his—his desires and impulses, against his—his own moral conscience and the— the conscience of—the social conscience of—of his time and his place, the—the little town he must live in, the family he’s a part of.

Via/audio.