Quentin happens upon a “little dirty child” in a bakery, a silent Italian girl who simultaneously becomes his “sister” and his sudden responsibility. Throughout this hazy section of The Sound and the Fury, Quentin diverts between his memories and reality, projecting his confused thoughts about Caddy, innocence, and Southern honor onto the little girl who follows him like a nondescript shadow. I found that this section of the chapter seemed to mirror Benjy’s, as not only do objects act as constant triggers of the past but as Quentin is dragged throughout town by the little girl, he’s a lot like Benjy, steered by Luster as he exists in a constant state of liminality, somewhere between the past and present.

Quentin’s interaction with the little girl is made up of many different layers, the most obvious one being the way in which he projects his muddled view of sisterhood and innocence upon her. She’s automatically deemed a “little dirty child”. Although she may actually be dirty, “dirty” and “innocent” seem to be interchangeable to Quentin, both tied to memories of a young Caddy in muddy drawers. One projection leads to another, as instead of simply smiling at the girl, buying his bread, and being on his way, Quentin calls her “sister”, becoming her surrogate brother and protector in only a few moments. This idea becomes all the more clear when contrasted with how the baker judges the girl, viewing her as an archetype, a filthy, foreign thief who she could care less about. But Quentin calls her “sister”, not a cute nickname, but a signifier of his qualms, past, and Caddy herself, and as he notices he’s being followed, his role as a Southern gentlemen means he must guide her home. As they’re on their way he says, “Don’t you reckon you’ll get a whipping for not coming straight home with that bread?” (111). Quentin’s world is threaded by honor and consequence, but as bread crumbs fall and memories begin to unravel, we see that Quentin’s state of mind is just as disoriented as Benjys.

In her journal article “The Language of Chaos: Quentin Compson in The Sound and the Fury”, Mary Cameron Brown states, “His major actions in the present– caring for the Italian girl… are reflections of the most significant aspects of his past– caring for his real sister and defending her honor accordingly to his distorted chivalric code” (545). Quentin’s life is framed by chivalric necessity, not because he cares about being just or righteous, but because it’s the only way he can think of fixing his past, fixing Caddy’s mistakes. As he walks with the girl he says, “Poor kid, you’re just a girl”. But is she really so poor and helpless? Quentin fails to realize that the little girl can take care of herself, fails to understand that mere curiosity is what keeps her following him and not neediness. But then again, Quentin isn’t quite rooted in reality or the present. And then there’s the girl’s bread, a symbol used by Faulkner to signify Quentin’s deteriorating grasp on life. The loaf brings the two together and only grows soggier and nastier as their interaction persists. Quentin continues to divert between the past and present, attempting to make sense of his memories, trying to “wipe the loaf” but only making it worse. It’s an odd sort of scene in which it almost feels as if had no one come to claim the girl, the two would’ve just continued wandering around, lost to time.

Quentin’s obedience to the Southern honor code is not rewarded. Instead, he is met by a ravaging brother and is almost jailed. It reminded me of when his father tells him that virginity essentially means nothing, that it’s all “just words”. Quentin is told this again and again, but he continues to strive to live and die by ancient codes. And as Quentin and the little girl part, he attempts one last try at brotherhood, “I waved my hand, but she made no reply” (120). It makes one wonder, if the girl had been a bit more vocal, or if the older brother had awarded Quentin, maybe his fate would’ve turned out different. Maybe what Quentin was searching for was one last sign that things like chivalry and honor matter, a sign of purity that he could’ve found in the little girl with a “face like a cup of milk dashed with coffee in the sweet warm emptiness” (103).