An Analysis About

In ÐŽoA Rose for Emily,ÐŽ± William FaulknerЎЇs use of language foreshadows and builds up to the climax of the story. His choice of words is descriptive, tying resoundingly into the theme through which Miss Emily Grierson threads, herself emblematic of the effects of time and the nature of the old and the new. Appropriately, the story begins with death, flashes back to the near distant past and leads on to the demise of a woman and the traditions of the past she personifies. Faulkner has carefully crafted a multi-layered masterpiece, and he uses language, characterization, and chronology to move it along, a sober commentary flowing beneath on the nature of time, change, and chanceЎЄas well as a psychological narrative on the static nature of memory.

Faulker begins his tale at the end: after learning of Miss EmilyЎЇs death, we catch a glimpse of her dwelling, itself a reflection of its late owner. The house lifts ÐŽoits stubborn and coquettish decayÐŽ± above new traditions just as its spinster is seen to do, ÐŽoan eyesore among eyesoresÐŽ± (Faulkner 666). The narrative voice suggests the gossipy nature of a Southern town where everyone knows everyone else, and nosy neighbors speculate about the affairs of Miss Emily, noting her often antiquated ways and her early retirement. In fact, it appears as if the town itself is describing the events of Miss EmilyЎЇs life, the first-person plural ÐŽoweÐŽ± a telling indication. The first explicit example of this occurrence takes place during the flashback in the second section, when, in speaking of her sweetheart, the narrator parenthetically adds ÐŽothe one we believed would marry herÐŽ± (667).

In the opening characterization, many descriptive words foreshadow the ultimate irony at the climatic ending: ÐŽoher skeleton was small and sparse,ÐŽ± ÐŽoshe looked bloated, like a body long submerged in motionless water, and of that pallid hueÐŽ± (667). We learn that ÐŽoher voice was dry and coldÐŽ± and that she did not accept no for an answer (667). Her house, a fading photograph, ÐŽosmelled of dust and disuseЎЄa closed, dank smell,ÐŽ± and when her guests are seated a ÐŽofaint dustÐŽ± rises ÐŽosluggishly about their thighsÐŽ± (667). All of these terms suggest neglect, decay, entropy: each of these elements tie in with the surface layer as well as the deeper themes upon which Faulkner tiers.

After carefully building such descriptive statements, Faulkner flashes back in time and examines the events that lead up to the moment of death. This toggling of events has been skillfully constructed, building suspense in a way that a straight forward chronology could not. The first unusual element that catches the curiosity of the reader is the mention of ÐŽothe smell,ÐŽ± which happened ÐŽothirty years beforeÐŽ± (667).

The smell, however, continues to persist, rapping on the readerЎЇs curiosity for attention: What is the significance of this infernal ÐŽosmellÐŽ±? Faulkner chooses to tell us only enough to keep us guessing, diverting us with the four men who ÐŽoslunk about the house like burglars, sniffing along the base of the brickworkÐŽ± with a single man forming a ÐŽoregular sowing motionÐŽ± with the lime in his hand (668). No sooner is this done, however, than the light comes on and EmilyЎЇs ÐŽoupright torso [sits] motionless as that of an idolÐŽ± (668). Here we see the first instance of this ÐŽoidolatrousÐŽ± description. We again are shown this image (as well as the first person plural narrator) after the mysterious smell leaves in several weeks and Emily has aged to the point of near death, her image in the window ÐŽolike the carven torso of an idol in a niche, looking or not looking at us, we could never tell whichÐŽ± (671). Not only does this form an interesting snapsnot, but we learn that (again note the first person plural narrator) ÐŽoWe had long thought of them as a tableau, Miss Emily a slender figure in white in the background, her father a spraddled silhouette in the foreground, his back to her and clutching a horsewhip, the two of them framed by the back-flung front doorÐŽ± (668). It would seem that Faulkner is trying to tell us something on another level if we will pay careful attention. Is Emily a portrait, a tableau vivant of a past that clings on in its own tenacious ways, disturbing the otherwise tranquil flow of the future? We will come back to this idea in a moment.

In describing the death of EmilyЎЇs father, Faulkner again foreshadows or alludes to the tragic ending: ÐŽoShe told them that her father was not dead,ÐŽ± and ÐŽodid that for three days,ÐŽ± until she finally broke down and allowed him to be buried properly (669). To this end, the ÐŽotown narratorÐŽ± comments ÐŽoWe did not say she was crazy then,ÐŽ± hinting perhaps that ÐŽoweÐŽ± do say she is crazy now (669). From here, Faulker brings forth Homer Barron, a largely flat character who nonetheless plays an integral part, for it is he that supplies the cadaver so imperative to the plot. According to the collective narrator, he is ÐŽoa Northerner, a day laborer,ÐŽ± ÐŽoa big, dark, ready man,ÐŽ± he laughs a lot, and he curses ÐŽothe niggersÐŽ± (669).

In this case, Faulkner again returns to Miss EmilyЎЇs austere characterization: when she purchases the arsenic, she looks through her ÐŽocold, haughty black eyesÐŽ± which peer from a ÐŽoface the flesh of which was strained across the temples and the eye-socketsÐŽ± (670). Just as Faulkner deftly employs Miss EmilyЎЇs haughtiness to keep important details from the reader, so too does he use her elusive habits to suggest a mysterious element that helps heighten suspense. These ÐŽohaughty black eyesÐŽ± effectively stare down the druggist, and for good reason, because if they did not, Faulkner would have forced EmilyЎЇs hand and ruined the suspense. Since he does not but rather allows her silence to reign supreme and enigmatic, the next day ÐŽowe all said, ÐŽ®She will kill herself,ЎЇЎ± but she doesnЎЇt (670). The reader is further engaged, wondering where all these individual details might lead: first the smell, then the arsenic, and now it appears that she is to marry Homer BarronЎЄif we are inclined to trust the collective narratorЎЄthough he soon disappears out of the story as another odd detail wonting further explanation (671).

Miss Emily emerges as a historical figure frozen in a sort of stasis,