Mockingbird
Officially speaking, William Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying tells the story of Bundren family
traveling to bury their mother, Addie. Quickly in the narrative she dies.
Children and husband must fulfill last request to take Mom’s body on a 40-mile
trek in a wagon to be buried in Jefferson, Mississippi. Written in 1930, it
dances the line between modern and post-modern literature. Different
characters’ voices take over each chapter, and as the book progresses, the
reader is given a complex, dark, and intimate narrative.
Unofficially,
I believe it is a book written about a mother who simply wanted her family to
take a vacation together, even if it involved hauling her corpse around. And
Mr. Faulkner just wanted everyone to talk (and sometimes yell) all at once.
Like you do on family vacations.
Don’t let
the gorgeous Instagram photos fool you. This is the season for family vacations
and in real life they are always #nofilter. While it might seem like a strange
parallel, I think William Faulkner had a fantastic understanding of the
theological implications of a family vacation. Like Addie Bundren being hoisted
about in her coffin, parents love the idea of a family getaway. And yet, when
the whole brood heads to the Grand Canyon, the messiness of life becomes oddly
compact. You plan a big, freedom-promising journey and end up all together in a
hotel room/car/tent. And there you are. All together in a small space, annoying
habits exposed.
I had the good fortune of going on some pretty serious family
vacations as a kiddo. No, I am not going to tell you we went to Europe. Or
regale you with stories about all those times at our lake cabin. Almost every
year we loaded up in an old suburban and drove from Mississippi to New Mexico.
I had one backseat and my little brother claimed the other. For the first few
days my mom would remind us that it wasn’t going to be the end of It’s a Wonderful Life that we had all imagined.
