John Cournos. “The Spirit of the South in the Civil War Lives in Faulkner's The Unvanquished.” New York Sun, February 16, 1938, p. 23.

William Faulkner knows his South, and it is possible that in the series of pictures he has penned of the Sartoris family in Mississippi during the latter days of the Civil War and the first days of the Reconstruction period he has not merely tried to perpetuate the spirit of a past age but also to indicate that the spirit is inherently alive to this day. The title of the book itself, The Unvanquished, is perhaps symbolic; the North has physically conquered the South, but there is something in the Southerner, especially in the woman of the South, essentially irrational and defying analysis; and this mysterious virtue, like John Brown's soul, goes marching on.

Some of the sketches in this book have already appeared in the magazines, but they have been skillfully rewritten and linked together to form one continuous narrative, which is episodic and atmospheric at the same time. It is for the most part the story of that very remarkable character, Rosa Millard, better known as Granny; and all of it is written reminiscently in the first person by Bayard Sartoris, son of the valiant Colonel, John Sartoris, and grandson of Rosa Millard. Bayard is only 14 at the beginning of the story, and the constant companion of his adventures, from the moment they hide under Granny's skirts to escape the just vengeance of the Yankees for having shot a horse, is Ringo, a shrewd, venturesome and dependable darky of his own age, who has a presence of mind and stout heart, neither of which forsakes him in an emergency; the emergencies are frequent and provide ample excitement, such as comes to civilians in war-time, passionately partisan.