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Each friendship is different. Did you discuss at all what he was doing?

I soon discovered that with Bill editing was out of the question.

You did no editing then.

You couldn't edit William Faulkner. If you tried to change one of his sentences, it was like pulling a little piecr of loose wool out of a sweater. You'd pull the whole sweater out; the whole thing would unravel. Saxe Commins became Bill' nominal editor and devoted friend.

As I say, being his editor meant really nothing. What I loved about William Faulkner--it was true till the day of his death--was his firm belief that the author wrote the book and the publisher published it, unlike many authors who come in and tell you what jacket they want and what color binding, what advertising campaign, and where you should advertise. They pester the hell out of you from beginning to end. Faulkner would come in and give me a manuscript and I'd say, “Bill, don't you want to talk about how the book should come out and how we should advertise it?”

And Bill would say, “Bennett, that's your job. If I didn't think you did it well, I'd go somewhere else.” The result of this was that William Faulkner got more attention in our office than anybody else, because everybody