Short Stop: #14. William Faulkner’s “Mule in the Yard”

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.

After several weeks of reading “Collected Stories,” there is something immediately disappointing about “Mule in the Yard.” Whereas one could look at stories like “Barn Burning” or “Two Soldiers” and find a deeper allegory forming in the title by the final paragraph, there’s almost nothing of value in reading too much into this title. There’s a mule, and it’s in a yard. That is the extent of this journey. It’s true that not every Faulkner tale needs to be a life-changing exploration of humanity nor does it need to be a greater commentary on The American South. Even then, one could hope that this story had something more. At its core, there’s nothing more than a premise and execution style of joke. Even then, “Shingles for the Lord” does this whole rigamarole much, much better.

This isn’t to say that Faulkner isn’t capable of making the humor work. In fact, there’s an implicit build-up that could be connected to “Uncle Willy” where humor and tragedy are interlocked in a battle for greater understanding. Even the fact that Willy and Hait are misunderstood by the greater community creates a nice continuity. But alas, this is a story that is bogged down by something much more annoying than a mule who gives everyone trouble. Had this been a story that explored the potential of the premise to its fullest, this would be a different story. Instead, there are two problems that bother me. One is the ambiguity of the reader’s connection to the characters and events, but it’s also the dialect.

This isn’t to suggest that Faulkner cannot use dialect in his work. I’d argue it’s one of the things that make stories like “A Bear Hunt” work perfectly. The issue here is that the premise feels so empty that it’s reliant on digging into how far the language can be pushed. At no point is it difficult to deconstruct, and yet it becomes tedious over 15 pages to hear a central character use that language. On some level it’s always been somewhat mocking, downplaying intellect. Sure it makes sense as putting characters at odds with the “antagonist” I.O. Snopes who talks more eloquently, but there’s so little else to go off of that this character feels thin, a trope that never escapes into usefulness.

Before continuing down that road, attention must be paid to the mule. The most interesting piece of this puzzle is how Faulkner sets up geography. Over the opening pages, he introduces this animal who is mysteriously wandering around a yard. There’s a good reason to be annoyed, especially as it distracts the human characters from their balance of life. As Old Het and Hait work to shoo it away, certain elements come into play. There’s the use of a basement that holds a seemingly innocent feature at first. It’s where The Rube Goldberg Machine of this death trap begins, as certain tools are put down while attending to the mule. Meanwhile, there’s a sense of annoyance around the yard itself, especially as certain observers enter the picture, taking into account this comical sight.

If it wasn’t bad enough that the mule was being an annoying little bugger, he belongs to I.O. Snopes, who has come to take him back. Once again, Faulkner lays out details that make this seemingly innocent exchange hold a deeper irony. The mule has already caused an accident that killed Hait’s husband. The visit from Snopes is now a negotiation over what she feels is due diligence. As far as female protagonists go, Hait is one of the more compelling figures covered so far if just because she carries an agency, a bargaining power over her male counterpart. It may be absurd to think that she is raising the price of her revenge to a ridiculous amount, but it all makes sense to her. She believes that it will make things right even if, as most readers know, there is never a way to make certain capers end on a wholly satisfying note. Violence will beget more violence, and this mule will only continue being, to paraphrase its nomenclature, an ass.

The story is meandering and never really that satisfying. The effort for Hait and Snopes to reach a compromise is difficult. In fact, the house burning down is the greatest symbol of this futility. The cleverly designed disaster is one of the author’s more ingenious plot devices even if it never reaches the same satisfaction as “Shingles for the Lord.” It could be that despite Hait having a compelling motivation, not enough is understood about these petty grievances. She merely exists in this moment and her stakes hold little weight. Even her relationship with her husband feels unnecessarily empty, so the eventual inferno lacks any greater weight.

One could argue that having distance from Hait is necessary for the comedy to land in this piece. Compare it to “Barn Burning” (another Snopes-based disaster story) where Faulkner slowly unravels pieces of symbolism, putting Abner through the wringer as he tries to afford a stable life for his family while coming into conflict with dozens of obstacles. It’s depressing and yet the reader is able to understand why Abner would go mad, why he would burn down a barn. There are also certain ramifications as to what it means for his son. It’s bleak but most of all it resonates because of what it would mean for the greater world. “Mule in the Yard” has very little of that and there’s no sense of greater social connection. As a result, there is no guilt over the fire. There’s also very little investment in the other central conflict, but that’s a different matter. This is a joke piece designed solely for a great punchline. Very little else of value can be mined from this premise.

Another interesting thing is how this expands The Snopes Family while helping to make Yoknapatawpha have this rich, lived in atmosphere. I.O. is a cousin of the more recognized Flem who was first introduced here in “Barn Burning.” I.O. is described as a mule dealer who is mean-spirited who enriches himself “at the expense of insurance companies.” The family symbolizes Faulkner’s decline of Southern civilization. Elsewhere in Faulkner lore, I.O. is a restaurant manager, blacksmith, and schoolteacher. He is also featured in the stories “Flags in the Dust,” “Sanctuary,” The Snopes Trilogy (“The Hamlet,” “The Mansion,” and “The Town”) along with “The Sound and the Fury.” As a lower class figure, it’s pretty impressive how much I.O. gets around.

Before leaving I.O. entirely, another point that is worth bringing up is another major animal bartering story called “Spotted Horses.” While not featured in “Collected Stories,” the website Benjamin Barber compares it to “Mule in the Yard” and suggests why it’s a superior work. For starters, there is a realistic dimension to the tale and the narrator observes major events that tie it to a moment. “Mule in the Yard” is a story that’s largely inferred, requiring the reader to piece in a lot of grey areas. Both are humorous, but the writer suggests that “Spotted Horses” is better because of its viewpoint. Much like other stories covered so far, Faulkner’s pieces that have very clear voices often end up being his more persuasive. “Mule in the Yard” never quite establishes one and as a result, it’s bogged down by dialogue that is somewhat designed as a dated novelty. On a side note, the versatility of stories just featuring The Snopes Family has been one of Faulkner’s hallmarks and it’s great to see it continue here.

Very little is known about the story’s production. It was said to have been written in the late winter or early spring of 1933-34. It was published in August 1934 in Scribner’s. The actions described in the story would also be incorporated into Chapter 16 of “The Town,” this time narrated by Charles Mallison. Another edit to this edition would move Mr. Hait’s death up from 10 years prior to three. According to “The Town,” the events take place in 1927, though the original manuscript is less clear.

The best way to appreciate this story is to not think too hard about it. While there’s subtext around the futility of revenge, it’s not strong enough to make the overall experience more fulfilling. Outside of Hait being a rare woman of agency in Faulkner’s work, there’s little here that feels essential or new. It’s entertaining and features a fun execution of a simple premise, but it’s very much a minor work that never quite escapes its novelty. It’s just another disaster for The Snopes Family, making Yoknapatawpha a place that never has a dull moment. It’s good, but everything about this story – even the story itself – has been done more significantly elsewhere. It’s a good enough read, but definitely one deserving to be on the most minor of minor Faulkner lists.



Coming Up Next: “That Will Be Fine”

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