Frustration...A Near Repudiation

I repudiate my repudiation...

I have the first fifteen pages of my thesis due Friday, which really isn't that much of a problem and I am excited about it, but Faulkner's A Fable is giving me a hard time. I finished The Sound and the Fury, and was at first let down by the ending, until I realized that the book is supposed to be about nothing. The ending, which is actually three endings in one, is suppose to expose the failure of three kinds of systems which attempt to add meaning to the meaninglessness of life:

1. Pragmatism/Materialism, as represented by Jason
2. Ignorant Bliss, as represented by Benjy
3. The Aesthetic Ideal/Morality/Cultural Dignity and Values, as represented by Quentin
4. Christianity, as represented by Disley (Although I am still skeptical as to whether Faulkner implies that Christianity "fails" to add meaning to life, or if the Compsons simply fail to grasp the hope it offers....

It seems like I have to reread the book, because now I actually know what to look for. Either way, stylistically, the book is brilliant, even if you don't know what is going on. There is one line that reads

I could hear Shreve working the pump, then he came back with the basin and a round blob of twilight wobbling in it, with a yellow edge like a fading balloon, then my reflection.

Anyway, back to my original frustration: A Fable. The story is an allegory of World War I, and was considered by Faulkner to be his masterpiece. Yet, most scholars regard The Sound and the Fury to be his greatest work. The story is complex and very long, and I feel like the entire middle section could be cut out. Some of Faulkner's usual techniques, like his overly qualified sentences, run far too long, probably causing what feels to me the unnecessary length of the work. The story centers around a French corporal of Jewish origin, who through his squad of twelve men, convinces both the French and German lines to stop the war. The world looks on, awaiting to see what meaning they will rest their lives upon without a war to fight. The corporal is a Christ-figure, of course. It should be interesting if I can make some comparisons between hi and the Superman of Nietzsche.

Here is a general approach to Faulkner I have thought about taking from reading so far: He seems to like to set up different systems which attempt to give meaning to life, and watch as they all self-destruct. What is left is unavoidable nihilism, what Paul Tillich called, the "threat of non-being." How do Faulkner's characters cope with nihilism? Do they overcome it? Is Quentin Compson's choice to jump off a bridge the only answer?