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We Shall Raise Our Voice Again the Conflict

William Faulkner'due south spoken communication at the Nobel Feast at the Urban center Hall in Stockholm, December ten, 1950 *


Ladies and gentlemen,

I feel that this award was not made to me as a man, just to my work – a life'southward piece of work in the agony and sweat of the human spirit, not for glory and to the lowest degree of all for turn a profit, but to create out of the materials of the human spirit something which did not exist before. So this honor is simply mine in trust. It will non be hard to find a dedication for the money office of it commensurate with the purpose and significance of its origin. But I would like to do the same with the acclaim likewise, past using this moment as a tiptop from which I might exist listened to by the young men and women already dedicated to the same anguish and travail, amidst whom is already that ane who will some twenty-four hours stand hither where I am standing.

Our tragedy today is a full general and universal physical fear so long sustained by now that we tin even conduct it. At that place are no longer problems of the spirit. There is just the question: When will I be blown upwardly? Because of this, the boyfriend or woman writing today has forgotten the problems of the human heart in conflict with itself which lone tin can brand skilful writing because only that is worth writing about, worth the agony and the sweat.

He must learn them over again. He must teach himself that the basest of all things is to be afraid; and, teaching himself that, forget it forever, leaving no room in his workshop for annihilation but the old verities and truths of the heart, the old universal truths lacking which any story is ephemeral and doomed – love and honour and pity and pride and pity and sacrifice. Until he does so, he labors under a expletive. He writes not of love just of lust, of defeats in which nobody loses annihilation of value, of victories without hope and, worst of all, without pity or compassion. His griefs grieve on no universal bones, leaving no scars. He writes non of the eye but of the glands.

Until he relearns these things, he will write as though he stood among and watched the end of man. I reject to accept the end of human being. It is like shooting fish in a barrel enough to say that man is immortal simply because he will endure: that when the last dingdong of doom has clanged and faded from the final worthless rock hanging tideless in the last red and dying evening, that even then at that place volition all the same be one more sound: that of his puny inexhaustible vocalism, nevertheless talking.

I turn down to accept this. I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not considering he solitary among creatures has an inexhaustible vocalization, simply because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. The poet'south, the writer's, duty is to write nigh these things. Information technology is his privilege to aid man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and accolade and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the celebrity of his by. The poet's vox need not only be the record of homo, it tin can be one of the props, the pillars to assist him endure and prevail.


* The oral communication was apparently revised by the writer for publication in The Faulkner Reader. These small-scale changes, all of which improve the accost stylistically accept been incorporated here.

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Copyright © The Nobel Foundation 1950

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Source: https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/literature/1949/faulkner/speech/