Ever since the publication of The Sound and TheFury in this country in 1929, its author, William Faulkner, has been an easy target for that company of critical gentlemen which includes unsuccessful novelists, more successful but envious contemporaries, the Agrarians (an esoteric group of Southern pseudo-aristocrats whom GeraldJohnson defines as people who want to sit on the verandah of a plantation house, sipping a mintjulep while a nigger mows the lawn), and aging LL.D.'s hanging over from the Humanist regime. I say'easy target' because Faulkner is probably the one man in the world who doesn't give a damn what the rest ofits inhabitants might think, so long as he has a place to sleep, eat and write, with an occasional jug of com thrown in for recreational hours.