Some 40 years ago, I taught "The Bear," by William Faulkner, to high school juniors in Great Falls, Montana. Hadn't read it since then--until this week for a book discussion at a private home in Jackson.
Man! what were we thinking, we high school teachers back then?
"The Bear" is for people who've lived long enough to appreciate the primordial, the ancient, the savage, the civilized--and how they all make for fostering good and evil across the planet--even when the planet is late 19th and early 20th century backwoods Mississippi.
The few youngsters who actually read the story back then were led to focus on the parts about courage vs. foolhardiness and the power of male bonding--especially during hunting trips. Not bad themes to capture in any case--but surely not the full story beneath Faulkner's fabled tale and the fabulous language he used. Those, my Friend, would take at least a college course or two at one's peak, I figure. But...
Like the bear and the hunters in the story, Faulkner is gone and the rest of us are still telling our versions and keeping our memories of what it all meant. For my part, the foray into Faulknerian Meaning with women friends at AAUW in Jackson last night was meaningful in its own right. Color me grateful, please.
Man! what were we thinking, we high school teachers back then?
"The Bear" is for people who've lived long enough to appreciate the primordial, the ancient, the savage, the civilized--and how they all make for fostering good and evil across the planet--even when the planet is late 19th and early 20th century backwoods Mississippi.
The few youngsters who actually read the story back then were led to focus on the parts about courage vs. foolhardiness and the power of male bonding--especially during hunting trips. Not bad themes to capture in any case--but surely not the full story beneath Faulkner's fabled tale and the fabulous language he used. Those, my Friend, would take at least a college course or two at one's peak, I figure. But...
Like the bear and the hunters in the story, Faulkner is gone and the rest of us are still telling our versions and keeping our memories of what it all meant. For my part, the foray into Faulknerian Meaning with women friends at AAUW in Jackson last night was meaningful in its own right. Color me grateful, please.
