I don’t think I gave this book a fair hand, I don’t think the audio book did well. I was worse at following it than I was with my recent forays into Joyce, despite Faulkner’s comparatively straightforward story and language. The ravings and wanderings and decayings and burnings and bloatings of the family and their journey, while not inexpertly conveyed, did not quite strike true. I think this should have struck me in the gut, and it did not. Maybe later, or maybe read in the usual oracular sense