Eight years ago Temple Drake, a privileged young Mississippi debutante, hopped off the back of a train to spend the afternoon with a young man and his motor car. It was a terrible mistake. Her date, Gowan Stevens, drank rather more than he could handle and abandoned his nubile protégée in a remote house crawling with Memphis gangsters. One sexual assault and one murder later, Temple found herself in residence at a Memphis brothel under the tutelage of the monstrous psychopath Popeye. But it wasn't all bad news: not only did Temple have access to funds sufficient to buy the very latest fashions, but she found love with a dashing local thug named Red. By the time she was liberated from her captivity, it was far from clear that she preferred the chaste comforts of home to the meretricious charms of Manuel Street. Naturally, Temple's adventure caused quite a stir in little Jefferson, Mississippi. But Gowan Stevens, a southern gentlemen born and bred, stepped in to assuage his own sense of guilt and rescue Temple's honour by marrying her, thereby giving them both the chance to put their past behind them.
But "the past is never dead. It's not even past." Worse, "everyone must, or anyway may have to, pay for your past; that past is something like a promissory note with a trick clause in it which, as long as nothing goes wrong, can be manumitted in an orderly manner, but which fate or luck or chance, can foreclose on you without warning". And the past sure has caught up with Mrs Gowan Stevens: her infant daughter has been murdered by her black nurse Nancy, and it appears that Temple is somehow deeply implicated in the crime. 'Requiem for a Nun' is about Temple's attempts to confront her responsibility for the concatenation of sin generated by her decision to jump off the back of a train eight years ago, and her desperate search for atonement. But the salvation available to Nancy, who goes to the gallows at peace with her Maker, is denied to Temple. Indeed, it seems the best most of us can do is to accept our moral responsibility for our sins and their consequences and suffer accordingly. If there's a point to anybody's suffering, it's encapsulation by a tendentious reading of a biblical phrase: "suffer little children to come unto Me". Not "permit" little children, but suffer yourself, that they might be "intact, unanguished, untorn, unterrified". It is this injunction that Temple has violated and, paradoxically, it is on this principle that Nancy commits her ghastly crime.
Unlike some items in the Faulknerian corpus, 'Requiem for a Nun' is as accessible as it is philosophically profound. Tell your friends about it today.