Short Stories
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PEN 0055
Essential English
Foundation in Law
ONLINE NOTES
Reading 1 (Short Stories)
A Rose for Emily
William Faulkner
| When Miss Emily Grierson died, our whole town went to her funeral: the men through a sort of respectful affection for a |1 |
|fallen monument, the women mostly out of curiosity to see the inside of her house, which no one save an old man-servant—a | |
|combined gardener and cook—had seen in at least ten years. | |
|It was a big, squarish frame house that had once been white, decorated with cupolas and spires and scrolled balconies in | |
|heavily lightsome style of the seventies, set on what had once been our most select streets. But garages and cotton gins |5 |
|had encroached and obliterated even the august names of that neighbourhood; only Miss Emily’s house was left, lifting its | |
|stubborn and coquettish decay above the cotton wagons and the gasoline pumps—an eyesore among eyesores. And now Miss Emily | |
|had gone to join the representatives of those august names where they lay in the cedar-bemused cemetery among the ranked | |
|and anonymous graves of Union and Confederate soldiers who fell at the battle of Jefferson. | |
|Alive, Miss Emily had been a tradition, a duty, and a care; a sort of hereditary obligation upon the town, dating from that|10 |
|day in 1894 when Colonel Sartoris, the mayor—he who fathered the edict that no Negro woman should appear on the street | |
|without an apron-remitted her taxes, the dispensation dating from the death of her father on into perpetuity. Not that Miss| |
|Emily would have accepted charity. Colonel Sartoris invented an involved tale to the effect that Miss Emily’s father had | |
|loaned money to the town, which the town, as a
PEN 0055
Essential English
Foundation in Law
ONLINE NOTES
Reading 1 (Short Stories)
A Rose for Emily
William Faulkner
| When Miss Emily Grierson died, our whole town went to her funeral: the men through a sort of respectful affection for a |1 |
|fallen monument, the women mostly out of curiosity to see the inside of her house, which no one save an old man-servant—a | |
|combined gardener and cook—had seen in at least ten years. | |
|It was a big, squarish frame house that had once been white, decorated with cupolas and spires and scrolled balconies in | |
|heavily lightsome style of the seventies, set on what had once been our most select streets. But garages and cotton gins |5 |
|had encroached and obliterated even the august names of that neighbourhood; only Miss Emily’s house was left, lifting its | |
|stubborn and coquettish decay above the cotton wagons and the gasoline pumps—an eyesore among eyesores. And now Miss Emily | |
|had gone to join the representatives of those august names where they lay in the cedar-bemused cemetery among the ranked | |
|and anonymous graves of Union and Confederate soldiers who fell at the battle of Jefferson. | |
|Alive, Miss Emily had been a tradition, a duty, and a care; a sort of hereditary obligation upon the town, dating from that|10 |
|day in 1894 when Colonel Sartoris, the mayor—he who fathered the edict that no Negro woman should appear on the street | |
|without an apron-remitted her taxes, the dispensation dating from the death of her father on into perpetuity. Not that Miss| |
|Emily would have accepted charity. Colonel Sartoris invented an involved tale to the effect that Miss Emily’s father had | |
|loaned money to the town, which the town, as a