[bksvol-discuss] Re: question about possible incomplete book

  • From: "Kenneth Cross" <crossk@xxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: <bksvol-discuss@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • Date: Fri, 25 Aug 2006 07:53:53 -0400

I submitted Intruder in the Dust, and I am very sure the ending was complete.  
It ends with the word said, attributing the asking of a receipt to Lucas.  I 
have the file; please let me know if I can help with either reading or 
  ----- Original Message ----- 
  From: Estelnalissi 
  To: bksvol-discuss@xxxxxxxxxxxxx 
  Sent: Thursday, August 24, 2006 8:58 PM
  Subject: [bksvol-discuss] Re: question about possible incomplete book

  Dear Laura Ann,

  The sentences at the end of your document match what I know about the way 
Intruder in the Dust ends, though I haven't read it yet. It is so tempting but 
I'm drowning in books. I've been wanting to read that one because it's a 
mystery and quite different from Faulkner's standard, quite depressing, 
formula. Web braille has a Faulkner short mystery as part of a collection 
called Murder and Other Acts of Literature, which has mysteries by E. B. White, 
Alcott, Warton, Kipling and other well known classic writers. 

  Intruder in the Dust is one novel web braille doesn't have, so it will be a 
terrific addition to Bookshare. I've read 4 of his, all pretty defeating, but 
in Intruder in the Dust, Faulkner casts a vote for human dignity.  Go William. 
About time!

  I hope someone grabs it soon while I can still resist it. 

  Always with love,


  "My story is finally out there in the ether, a self-sufficient organism 
beyond my control, changing shape in every new mind that absorbs it."
  From The Night Listener, a novel by
  Armistead Maupin

    ----- Original Message ----- 
    From: Agape Pet Sitting 
    To: bksvol-discuss@xxxxxxxxxxxxx 
    Sent: Thursday, August 24, 2006 8:34 PM
    Subject: [bksvol-discuss] Re: question about possible incomplete book

    here is what is at beginning of book.....


    THE MODERN LIBRARY New YorkCopyright, 1948, By Random House, Inc.
    is published by



    Chapter One

      IT WAS JUST NOON that Sunday morning when the sheriff reached the jail 
with Lucas Beauchamp though the whole town (the whole county too for that 
matter) had known since the night before that Lucas had killed a white man.

      He was there, waiting. He was the first one, standing lounging trying to 
look occupied or at least innocent, under the shed in front of the closed 
blacksmith's shop across the street from the jail where his uncle would be less 
likely to see 

    ((((and here is what is at the end page 248)))
    the fixed blaring of the radios and the blatting creep of the automobile 
horns and all the rest of the whole County's Saturday uproar came up on the 
bright afternoon.
    'Now what?' his uncle said. 'What are you waiting for now?'
    'My receipt,' Lucas said.

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