At a first glance, the townspeople in A Rose for Emily do not seem to have any capacity for compassion. When Emily buys arsenic, they say ” ‘She will kill herself,’ ” remarking that it “would be (for) the best.” The townspeople also often gossip about her. Many attend her funeral out of “curiosity to see the inside of house,” though they hide it under a guise of respect.
When it becomes clear that Emily is insane, it is easier to pity her. In fact, she is exempted from taxes through a neatly packaged lie in a move of generosity by Colonel Sartoris, the mayor at that time. Nevertheless, pity isn’t always the same as compassion, especially in this case. If Emily had been allowed outside her house to work, she may not have gone batty, instead becoming a normal member of society. Though Colonel Sartoris certainly meant well, his action, in effect, was keeping Emily down instead of helping her.
One of the few times the townspeople truly felt compassion for Emily was after her father’s death. The narrator writes, “We remembered all the young men her father had driven away, and we knew that with nothing left, she would have to cling to that which had robbed her, as people will.” However, other than empathizing with Emily, they did nothing. That’s not to say that people should immediately act whenever they feel compassion for somebody, but if Emily had been exposed to the townspeople’s feelings of genuine sympathy, she might have started living a drastically different life.
Faulkner isn’t dismissing or condemning Emily’s morbid actions in any way. However, he is calling for understanding of Emily — every part of her, including the murderous lunatic and the isolated captive. True compassion is forgiveness of even the worst crimes, and allowing room for growth. It is in this way that the town failed Emily. Instead of forcing the ideals of Antebellum South on her and watching her from “behind jalousies,” they should have stood behind her in facing her demons and untangling her life.