This past December, I went to Barnes & Noble and bought a handful of books. Among them was a William Faulkner anthology called “Collected Stories.” I have personally been a fan of the author since I read “As I Lay Dying” in my early 20s and found the potential for literature cracking open. Given the girth of the volume, I knew it would be intimidating to just read the 42 short stories front to back, so instead I’ve decided to take my time. In doing so, I plan to cover one a week until completed. I will be using this space to share my opinions of each piece as well as any stray observations I may have picked up from the greater world of Faulkner mania.
At least from the early outings, this section of “Collected Stories” has quickly become one of the more disappointing sections. Maybe it could be opening with the timeless “A Rose for Emily," to which very little compares, but there is just not as much drive of interesting characters so far. Whereas “The Country” had an eclectic group of characters, “The Village” is quickly falling in line with a very specific vision. Everyone from Jefferson County has some strange hang-up about the past, a need to hold onto an old way of thinking. It’s true that Faulkner is a master of exploring how the south dealt with The Reconstruction Era, but there comes a point where it becomes a bit tedious to constantly be dealing with him using it symbolically through older men marrying younger women who could be seen as metaphorically fertile and able to repopulate an old way of thinking.
Compared to “A Rose for Emily” or “Hair,” Flem Snopes is not nearly as bad but there is a moment early on that reminds you of this trope. His wife Eula is described as virginal, and it’s clear that most of these characters are subliminally designed to want the past. Flem is a deluded figure as will be seen in “Centaur in Brass,” but it’s amazing how families in “The Village” so far have been more dysfunctional and less colorful so far. Even compared to his father Ab Snopes from the great opener “Barn Burning,” there isn’t much to him that makes for an exciting narrative outside of the fact that he’s a real narcissist who is about to get in over his head with a brass statue.
Complaints from publishers suggested that seeing Flem fail was not appealing to the reader. They wanted to see their protagonist be painted as a hero. If nothing else, it would remove the irony of this tribute made in tragic irony, of a man who isn’t deserving of that kind of respect. There is something inherently funny about that as a concept, but this is one of the lesser stories covered so far if just because it feels like more of the same as opposed to a wholly original and enjoyable story. A bad guy gets his comeuppance. If nothing else, the lack of overt sympathy for Flem is one of the rare highlights of this story, as Faulkner has tended to be somewhat of a compassionate writer, noticing how time and context impact the lives of his characters.
What’s so special about this statue? The opening paragraph would suggest that this is the start of a mythic hero, someone who will bring pride to Jefferson. Given that Flem is the son of a notorious figure like Ab, there is reason to believe that this is a tale of redemption, of rebuilding character. “Barn Burning” was a perfectly complex portrait of what draws a man to a desperate act. Maybe Flem would’ve learned how to navigate the world a little better. Since the statue can be seen from four different directions, the prominence either says a lot about how the village sees Flem, or how he sees himself.
With the help of yet another unknown narrator, “Centaur in Brass” unfolds as Flem teams up with two firemen who take shifts helping him create this monument. Tom-Tom works the morning while Turl takes the evening. As one can pick up from the dialect, they are not the smartest people in Yoknapatawpha. Much like “Shingles for the Lord,” they’re better represented by their comic mishaps than any emotionally complex epiphany. It’s not entirely clear, but given that Flem treats them as free labor, they could possibly be Black which in itself paints the story with a more confounding brush. Is this now some greater story about resurrecting statues for Confederate generals and relying on the oppressed? If it is, that makes the whole thing especially funny from a contemporary standpoint where the value of these statues is constantly brought into question.
It is a tedious narrative, where Flem gets in over his head and ultimately screws himself over. While he gets the final prize, he still has to face certain debtors and his fool-proof plan to have Tom-Tom and Turl take most of the heat (no pun intended) goes terribly wrong. That is a fun irony, but a big reason that “Centaur in Brass” doesn’t work is because of how straightforward it is. Alongside “The Tall Men,” it’s not a bad story by any stretch but lacks any great revelation that makes Flem Snopes stand out in a sea of wonderful figures. His unlikable nature makes the ending work, but he does little that is on par with Ab.
If nothing else, it’s a satire on the idea of mythologizing and turning everyday men into heroes. It’s the fact that one could come from terrible backgrounds and still not be the best person in the world. Maybe he learned the wrong things from “Barn Burning,” where he knew that he needed to take advantage of people so that he didn’t end up like Ab: helpless and nomadic. If he could change his reputation, then maybe everything would work out for the best. Oh, how naïve Flem Snopes is. He’s someone that may come from sympathetic origins but is expertly written to be anything but. It’s not often that Faulkner provides antiheroes, so “Centaur in Brass” centering on the resurrection of a usually noble symbol says a lot about how deluded and full of themselves certain circles of The South can ultimately be.
According to The Digital Yoknapatawpha Project, this is a story that was likely written sometime in 1930 or 1931. It was accepted for publication in American Mercury in February 1932. Before that, Scribner’s Magazine editor Kyle Crichton rejected it because he wanted Flem to have a more heroic outcome. By coincidence, he would play the lead in “Spotted Horses” which Scribner's published in June 1931. With that said, it’s interesting to note that despite The Snopes Family having a prominent place in Faulkner's writing, neither of these stories were accepted into his anthologies until “Collected Stories” along with “Mule in the Yard.”
With that said, The Snopes aren’t short of appearances throughout his career. They would appear in “Sartoris,” later named “Flags in the Dust” from 1929. Flem would also make a small cameo in “As I Lay Dying” along with the trilogy “The Hamlet,” “The Town,” and “The Mansion” that focused more exclusively on the family over decades. In those, Flem is described as having eyes the color of stagnant water. He comes across as unpleasant. Given that “Centaur in Brass” was edited to be incorporated into “The Town,” it’s clear that even Faulkner isn’t terribly concerned with this short story. It has its charm, but he’s written better work even about The Snopes family, who could be deserving of exploration as this series goes on.
An interesting side note is that Flem’s marriage to Eula has its own interesting contrast. Most readers of “Centaur in Brass” are likely to judge her in broad strokes, especially with “Hair” in their subconscious. She barely factors into the story, and yet there’s reason to assume she is helpless and being taken advantage of. Given Flem’s reputation, it’s not that out of line. However, The Digital Yoknapatawpha Project suggests that she’s one of the warmest and most compassionate characters in Jefferson, who has this gift for bringing the best out of people. Without diving too much into other work, especially that not covered in “Collected Stories,” it does make one wonder if part of Flem’s redemption is his wife becoming a good influence on him.
As suggested, this is not the last of Flem Snopes in this collection. Maybe there will come a redemption or reconsideration of character. It would be exciting to see Faulkner make characters who evolve and change over time. Given the brief interpretive window between “Barn Burning” and “Centaur in Brass” for The Snopes, there is reason to suggest that things can go in a variety of directions. If nothing else it will be exciting to watch this family grow, existing through decades at different points of the writer’s career. This is a jump back to the turn of the century, when the road ahead looked promising. It would be fun to see if The Snopes ever become intertwined in events like The Great Depression or even World War II. Without doing too much research, I am safely assuming somewhere in all of his writing they show up even for a second.
There is plenty to like in “Centaur in Brass,” but so far “The Village” section is a bit underwhelming, especially compared to the previous one. These are good stories, but two of them fall more on the disposable side. They have more of a redundancy in their drives, and it may just be a side effect of Faulkner’s obsession with the past and trying to hold onto old values. Much like “A Rose for Emily,” the struggle to hold onto it could destroy the next generation and it’s an implication that exists in every story. Maybe Flem’s statue is his attempt to remind everyone of a better time even if, quite honestly, the readers who picked up “Barn Burning” already know better. Nothing has ever been great. If anything, it’s been a daily struggle.
Coming Up Next: “Dry September”
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