| Quote #7
Quentin knew that. He could almost see her, waiting in one of the dark airless rooms in the little grim house's impregnable solitude. (4.1)
Quentin imagines Miss Rosa sitting in that dark, stuffy house of hers. Just as Sutpen's Hundred reflects its maker, Miss Rosa's home is like her: alone and "impregnable." Shmoop's house is brilliant and hilarious, by the way. Just in case you were wondering.
| Quote #8
[…] a huge house where a young girl waited in a wedding dress made from stolen scraps, the house partaking too of that air of scaling desolation, not having suffered from invasion but a shell marooned and forgotten in a backwater of catastrophe. (4.20)
It takes Judith a long time to realize that Charles Bon won't be coming to marry her. She sits and waits in her scrappy wedding dress made from pieces of fabric that Miss Rosa stole from her father's shop. Pretty sad scene, we must say.
| Quote #9
[…] the house which he had built, which some suppuration of himself had created, produced some (even if invisible) cocoon-like and complementary shell in which Ellen had had to live and die a stranger, in which Henry and Judith would have to be victims and prisoners, or die. (5.5)
Just as Sutpen is possessed by the house, the house comes to possess those who live in it. Sutpen's children fall victim to the house's isolation and are both protected by and imprisoned within its walls. This place sure has a life of its own.