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III
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III

Like that of most literary artists, great or merely competent, Faulkner's fundamental approach to refining his prose consisted of progressively distilling and compressing it:[17] his revision was a matter of subtracting and sharpening, and, with rare exception, he did not indulge in adding to his already layered textures. Although a purely physical word-count might not, by itself, prove adequate confirmation of this premise, it certainly provides a basis from which to begin. By actual number, the "Brown/Stone" version of The Wishing-Tree consists of 11,100 words; the "Victoria" typescript is made up of 9,858 words. Comparative textual scrutiny allows us to isolate at least four basic approaches Faulkner employed in revising The Wishing Tree. One salient technique to which he consistently resorted was that of reducing or deleting extraneous or redundant description; information which did not particularly enhance the forward thrust of his narrative. The following three examples, excerpted randomly from the two versions, make clear how Faulkner moved from the density of the "Brown/Stone" version to a more gracefully distilled style inherent in the "Victoria" version:

"I used to have a lot of ponies," the little old man said. "But we got shed of them. They et too much." (Page "12," "Brown/Stone" version)

"I used to have a lot of ponies," the little old man said. (Page "18," "Victoria" version)

"I wants some ham and gravy and a piece of cornbread and a cup of coffee," Alice said, and there it was in front of her. (Page "18," "Brown/Stone" version)

"I wants some ham and gravy and a piece of cornbread and a cup of coffee," Alice said, and there it was. (Page "29," "Victoria" version)

"It's just my pony," the redheaded boy explained. "But he'll come on home by himself: he always does that." (Page "34," "Brown/Stone" version)

"It's just my pony," the redheaded boy explained. "He knows the way home, all right." (Page "53," "Victoria" version)

Seemingly in an attempt to make the "Victoria" version read less like a literary exercise, favoring, instead, a more direct, if fabulous, narrative style calculated to communicate with and captivate a child's imagination and hold his interest, Faulkner consciously pared away many of his highly-stylized figurative and literary allusions. In doing so, he was able to heighten the


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"Victoria" version's simple, direct diction and repetitious phraseology. The following two examples manifest a reduction in overly-extended metaphorical comparisons:

Soon it would be at her mouth, then it would pop out and jump up against the ceiling as though it were laughing at her ... (Page "1," "Brown/Stone" version)

Soon it would be at her mouth, then it would pop out and jump right up against the ceiling . . . (Page "1," "Victoria" version)

"Darling!" Daphne exclaimed. The gillypus was as big as a rabbit now, and Dicky hit it again.

"Dont hit Mr. Egbert's gillypus!" Daphne cried. The gillypus was as big as a dog now, and Dicky hit it again. (Page "31," "Brown/Stone" version)

"Darling!" exclaimed Dulcie. "Dont hit Egbert's gillypus! Alice! Alice!"

"Kill little puppy," Dicky said. The gillypus was as large as a dog, now. "Cut little puppy in two," Dicky said, and the gillypus fell in two pieces. (Page "49," "Victoria" version)

The following excerpt demonstrates Faulkner's conscious elimination of the metaphorical comparison altogether in the interest of directness as well as artistic taste:

...and the redheaded boy rose to his knees and still puffed and blew, and the pony was as large as a dog now; and the redheaded boy blew and puffed, and he got to his feet and the pony was as large as a calf and still it got bigger and bigger. (Page "6," "Brown/Stone" version)

...and the boy rose to his knees and still puffed and blew, and then to his feet, and the pony got bigger and bigger. (Page "9," "Victoria" version)

These final two examples highlight Faulkner's awareness of the potentially distractive effect of abstruse or overt literary allusions and influences on the mind of a child:

"Come and see," the redheaded boy replied, and she came over beside him and saw through the window the black trees with their bare dripping branches in the rain. "They're sorrying themselves," the redheaded boy murmured. (Pages "2-3," "Brown/Stone" version)

"Come and see," the boy said, and she came up beside him and saw through the window the black trees with their bare dripping branches in the rain. (Page "3," "Victoria" version)

"Come on," the redheaded boy said. And they went on and passed from out the forest, into a valley. This was the valley through which, in the old days, young Sir Galwyn of Arthgyyl, with the green design called Hunger at his right hand and the red design called Pain at his left hand, had ridden. It was full of sweet odors. . . (Pages "39-40," "Brown/Stone" version)

"Come on," the redheaded boy said. They were in a valley now, and pretty soon they would reach a river. The valley was full of sweet odors. . . (Page "61," "Victoria" version)

The effacement of this last literary allusion, referring as it does directly back to his allegory, Mayday, completed and dated January 27, 1926, as well as the image of the black trees "sorrying themselves," a blatant vestige of the Imagist movement, suggests Faulkner was reaching a turning point in his literary career. In fact, the great prose he would produce during the next dozen years would reflect this same careful concern for eliminating distractive imagery of this kind.

Yet another effort Faulkner made to streamline and balance the "Victoria" version of The Wishing Tree is exemplified by the way he succeeded in this


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latter text at minimizing the roles of lesser characters in order to achieve a more sensible balance for the major participants. George's role is simply reduced; he spends less time on stage. Realizing he has dwelled inordinately on the vixenish qualities of Egbert's wife, Faulkner backs off:

"I used to go to a sight of picnics," the little old man said, and the little old man's wife opened the kitchen door and glared at the little old man.

"You, Egbert!" the little old man's wife shouted, and she glared at him again and slammed the door. . . (Page "39," "Brown/Stone" version)

"I used to be a great hand for picnics," the little old man said, and then his wife opened the kitchen door.

"You, Egbert!" she shouted, and slammed the door again. . . (Page "60," "Victoria" version)

Also, Dicky's babyish persiflage is reduced to a degree. Of most significance, however, is the adjustment Faulkner makes in reducing the quantity of dialogue and improving the quality of the dialect Alice and her husband, Exodus, are made to express in the "Victoria" version: Faulkner allows them to fade back into the gestalt by sophisticating their posturing. Compared with their appearances in the "Brown" version, both characters seem far less self-mocking, minstrel-show stereotypes in their behavior and demotic:

"You have something else, honey. Here, gimme yo' candy. You dont want no old candy, does you?" Alice took the candy out of Dicky's hand... (Page "16," "Brown/Stone" version)

"You better have something else. Here, give me yo' candy." Alice took the candy out of his hand... (Page "25," "Victoria" version)

"Name Exodus," Alice answered. "De one before him was name Genesis. I never did know what become of him. But you kin bet yo' money dat if meanness aint kilt him, de law's got 'im somewhere." (Page "23," "Brown/Stone" version)

"Name Exodus," Alice answered. "Dey was two of 'em. The other one wus name Genesis, but meanness kilt him 'fore he wuz ten years old." (Page "37," "Victoria" version)

"I dont believe I'll marry any more," the little old man said. "Even if I could, I mean."

"All husbands thinks dat," Alice's husband said. "De trouble is, convincin' de womenfolks. De man what's got any business sayin' he dont think he'll marry no mo' is dead." (Page "29," "Brown/Stone" version)

(entire sequence deleted) (Page "45," "Victoria" version)

A fourth revisionary concern Faulkner heeded in sophisticating his "Victoria" version of The Wishing Tree had to do with refinement by means of giving sharper focus and definition to his qualifying verbs, adverbs, and adjectives. Just two examples might serve to suggest the pervasive nature of this intensification:

"Dont blow him up too big now, for me and Dicky," Alice said. (Page "7," "Brown/Stone" version)

"Dont blow him up too big, now, for me and Dicky," she cautioned. (Page "11," "Victoria" version)

"Drive first choss pony," Dicky said. (Page "8," "Brown/Stone" version)

"Drive first choss pony," Dicky shouted. (Page "12," "Victoria" version)

Whether the foregoing examples demonstrate a progressive revisionary evolution from the "Brown/Stone" version to the "Victoria" version of The Wishing Tree, or just a thorough reworking to insure that the gifts he was


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giving almost concurrently remained "unique," cannot be decided with absolute certainty. Aside from the notion of priority of texts, both distinct versions have their own literary as well as aesthetic merits: both can be read independently with relatively equal delight.