The past persists through memory.

Although the text makes it clear that the passage of time is inevitable, its nonlinear structure suggests that the past and the present exist in tandem, and the past continues to influence the present in the form of memory. Emily, most notably, is committed to stasis—her refusal to believe her father is dead and her decades-long concealment of Homer Barron’s corpse in a room frozen in time are two of the most striking examples. However, she is not the only one clinging to memories of the past. Littered throughout the text are references to a time gone by—from the decaying state of Emily’s neighborhood to the fact that she joins her former neighbors in burial at the cemetery, from the anonymous graves of the Union and Confederate soldiers to the “very old men” in their Confederate uniforms reminiscing at Emily’s funeral. 

It’s in the midst of this final instance that Faulkner has the most to say about memory outright, stating that memory, to those very old men, is “not a diminishing road” but rather “a huge meadow which no winter ever touches, divided from them now by the narrow bottle-neck of the most recent decade of years.” These men “[confuse] time with its mathematical progression,” misremembering Emily, believing they knew her better than they did. This suggests memory can be exaggerated, subjective—that the “huge meadow” doesn’t represent what was real, but what we believe, what we choose to remember as fact. This speaks to the older generation’s resistance to modernity throughout the story and their efforts to cling to a past (specifically pre-Civil War) that no longer exists, and never existed in quite the way they remember it now.

The story's very structure speaks to the influence of memories past on the present—each flashback is a memory, from Emily’s father’s death to Emily’s own funeral, relayed to us by a nameless narrator who characterizes themselves as the voice of the town. Therefore, we can’t truly know what occurred—we can only view events through the subjective lens of the narrator’s memories.

Society’s reliance on social conventions has consequences.

Social conventions are everywhere in “A Rose for Emily.” From Judge Stevens’s unwillingness to confront Emily directly about the smell emanating from her home to the town’s shared gossip about Emily’s relationship with Homer Barron, the rules and norms of Jefferson contribute to much of the story’s conflict. The town’s secretive response to the odor is indicative of the manner in which Jefferson tends to sweep things under the rug, only to exacerbate the consequences of the very thing they sought to ignore—specifically, in this case, the decay of Homer Barron’s body. More generally, the fact that no one interferes allows Emily’s instability to fester. Further, the critical eye with which the town analyzes Emily’s love life renders her a pariah when her choice to take Sunday rides with Homer Barron transgresses acceptable social boundaries, and this pushes her further into isolation, particularly when Homer rejects her, severing her last hope for happiness, connection, and some level of financial security. Attempting to navigate these conventions is a constantly moving target; the town feels contempt for Emily, believing she thinks too highly of herself, but also scorns her when she takes up with Homer Barron because he is below her station. They feel pity for her when her father dies, and also validated that he has left her with nothing. With her father gone, Homer Barron out of reach, and the town scrutinizing her every move while simultaneously ignoring serious red flags about her mental state, Emily suffers a final break with reality.

Gossip and rumors serve as obstacles to empathy.

The events in “A Rose for Emily” are relayed to the reader through the lens of a narrator whose collective voice makes it clear they speak for the town as a whole, as denoted by their use of the pronoun we. This suggests that any opinion about Emily expressed throughout the story is shared by the entire community, establishing a dichotomy between Emily and the rest of the town. This creates distance between the reader and Emily—we don’t have access to Emily’s thoughts and feelings and must rely on the town to tell us about her, making us complicit in their rumors and gossip. But it’s also clear there’s a certain amount of distance between Emily and the townspeople, too. Despite having an intense interest in Emily’s affairs, individuals don’t appear to have an interest in Emily’s well-being. Any concern they might have for her is usually eclipsed by pity, disgust, or intrigue. The town considers Emily to be many things—an oddity, a curiosity, a “tradition, a duty, and a care,” “a hereditary obligation,” “an idol.” The primary way the town engages with her is through gossip, rendering her less of a person and more of an object to be examined and scandalized by, which in turn removes their ability to truly empathize with her.