"His father’s a congregational minister."

It’s difficult to think of a more unlikely profession for the nihilistic Mr Compson. According to the appendix to The Sound and the Fury which appeared in The Portable Faulkner (1946), he did nothing of the kind — did, in fact, not much of anything. He was “bred for a lawyer and indeed he kept an office upstairs above the Square, where entombed in dusty filingcases some of the oldest names in the county...faded year by year”. His decline becomes a full-time occupation and his days are spent “with a decanter of whiskey and a litter of dogeared Horaces and Livys and Catulluses, composing (it was said) caustic and satiric eulogies on both his dead and living fellowtownsmen”.