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.
On the surface, the story of Uncle Rodney in “That Will Be Fine” is one of the most underwhelming arcs in the anthology so far. When the reader reaches the final pages where the title describes the seven-year-old narrator Georgie and the title refers to him getting twenty quarters, it seems like another punchline. But this isn’t just another “Mule in the Yard.” There is more of a purpose to this mundane situation where Rodney’s schemer ways reflect something more complicated about how Jefferson sees criminal behavior. He is a person who never found a corner he couldn’t cut and even as the reader witnesses these moments, there is something astounding to his lack of punishment. Nobody wants to stop him. If this wasn’t narrated by a child, one could argue that this piece was even immoral, lacking a greater substance.
But that’s the beauty of Faulkner. He has always known the value of a narrator who is removed from the central conflict in a way that enhances the human condition. Very little would suggest that Georgie knows right from wrong. He is simply there to assist an elder who is often supposed to be perceived as altruistic. That’s the irony. Georgie isn’t. At times Rodney seems no different from any other character from “Dry September” or “Centaur in Brass.” Most people in Faulkner’s south have deviance that is complicated and awful. But because Georgie is an outsider with plenty of innocence, everything can exist in the ambiguity in-between.
What may be the cherry on top of the framing of “That Will Be Fine” is that this is essentially a Christmas story. When most think of the holiday, there is merriment and generosity. Decorations are up and family is getting together. Well, Georgie is visiting his Uncle Rodney, but there’s little else that feels traditional. Everything is subverted in such a way that it reflects a lower-class approach to December. This isn’t one of embracing humbleness, but doing everything in your power to live outside your means. Santa isn’t coming down the chimney, but Rodney will be talking about his affair with the wife of the President of the Compress Association in Mottstown, Mrs. Pruitt. Is there actual love there, or is Rodney using her again for money? It’s hard to really tell.
While the story may be a bit long and meandering at times, there’s something to feeling the inescapable dread of Georgie. He is stuck in the control of his uncle, believing that he will earn honest pay for honest work. His Grandpa is there, imbibing in an effort to ignore Rodney’s poor behavior. If anything, this reinforces the idea that Rodney is going to be able to get away with every terrible antic. There is no sense of being raised to live a virtuous life, instead replacing it with desperation and addiction, trying to numb the pain of the miserable state. Could Rodney have been a stand-up citizen if he was honest? Maybe Grandpa was secretly a shady individual as well. Faulkner doesn’t provide enough insight into anyone’s lives to really clarify. Still, over three generations there’s the sense that bad behavior is passed down from generation to generation. So long as Georgie gets paid, that will be fine. He’s not concerned with the morality with which the money is achieved, especially since Rodney is convincing him to throw gravel through windows carelessly and not be ashamed to date married women.
It's something that can read as ironic and haunting in equal measure. On the one hand, this is similar territory to “Barn Burning” in which The Snopes Family watches their father perform a downward spiral into madness. The child is forced into a life of the parent, not knowing how to act better. While it’s true that this is a story of uncle and nephew, what’s to say that Georgie doesn’t have problems at home, that he doesn’t somehow come to idolize Rodney. After all, money is attractive. It can bring value. Greed can corrupt, and Georgie may fall victim to this behavior. Much like all of Faulkner’s characters, there’s this sense that every character is a commentary on an individual’s relationship to the past, asking how it molds one’s ideals. Given that “Collected Stories” has focused on a love for The Antebellum South, it makes sense to read Georgie as potentially growing up to be a regressive individual.
To shift over to style, there is something rather compelling about the prose. I haven’t really seen Faulkner use it yet outside of “The Sound and the Fury,” but there are chunks of the story that break free from the conventional quotation dialogue and replace it with paragraphs of ultimately he said/she said bickering that flows together like a run-on sentence. It’s a fluid read and some of the story’s strongest work, but it also can be startling as one voice potentially blurs with the other. It can be seen as the work of a child with a juvenile form of communication, but why would Faulkner use it here? What makes these particular sections acceptable to strip down to core language?
The most logical read is that this is Georgie’s way of imitating Rodney. The hearsay nature is something more akin to rumors, truths that the reader can choose to believe or accept as a stretch by the narrator. After all, these aren’t direct quotes. These are second-hand exchanges that could be changed due to faulty memories or egos that form the story that benefits them. If Rodney can see himself as a hero where Faulkner sees him as a villain, then why not let the characters run wild? Given that Grandpa is also lying to himself, there’s a lot of dishonesty that can be found in the he said/she said sections. These are excuses to verify actions, that somehow this is as good as Rodney’s life will get. He’s bitter because he says we believe he’s bitter. Georgie has nothing else to go off of, so at that point, the lie becomes a new type of truth that will be difficult to shift.
The following may be a stretch, but the choice to set it at Christmas exists as more than rich irony. If one was to recontextualize the story as a religious story, a lot of the imagery is there. Alcoholism is not unlike “the blood of Christ” which is found in church wine. Georgie’s goal of receiving twenty quarters wouldn’t be unlike The Three Wise Men in The Nativity Story. The only difference is where that is seen as a gift of generosity, Rodney giving Georgie the money is one of greed and obligation. Even the idea of getting Grandpa a gift could be some false profit, a figure who forgives Rodney and his non-virginal Mary in Mrs. Pruitt. While the pieces don’t entirely line up, the dysfunction makes it appear like a warped perception of religious values. It’s a very sinful story that somehow ends without conflict, a sense of forgiveness that prolongs Rodney’s ability to do whatever nasty thing he wants.
I am unsure of what “That Will Be Fine” is saying about the greater celebration of Christmas, but it does feel like he’s taking a delightful stab at certain traditions. Families get together and learn the wrong things. To go beyond this, the story makes sense as this commentary on how corruption is passed down from generation to generation. It may not be as fulfilling of a read as “Barn Burning,” but the way that Faulkner can make the harsh reality sneak up on the reader is brilliant. This is a story with a simple A to B format, but those twenty quarters aren’t just a gift of generosity, but a validation of bad behavior. Money keeps the world turning round regardless of what it’s used for. It’s a theme that exists somewhere in every story but rarely this unsubtly. While one can condemn Rodney for his failures, the reality is that Georgie not making a big deal about it is more indicative of how evil is allowed to happen in the first place. It’s so unattractively plain that it just seeps into the subconscious until it becomes a new normal.
The fun ironies around “That Will Be Fine” even appear in the publication. The story was written in March 1935 and published in The American Mercury in July 1935. There was inclusion in The Best Short Stories of 1936 and The Yearbook of the American Short Story. Despite the initial acclaim, Random House editor Robert Haas told Faulkner that he didn’t consider “That Will Be Fine” worthy of consideration. Faulkner was confused by this decision but eventually chose to include it in “Collected Stories.” Unlike many of the stories featured, it wasn’t edited and remains consistent with The American Mercury version. It’s a story that had a fair amount of acclaim upon release but exists as a second-tier and often forgotten story, which is a shame. While it lacks colorful characters who appear in other stories or zippy pacing, it does have everything else that makes the author great, capable of infiltrating simple text with complicated ideas.
In the penultimate entry of the “Village” section, Faulkner is finally hitting his stride. Somewhere in the muck of a mundane narrative, he is able to subvert a Christmas story with a greater commentary on consumerism in America. More importantly, he reflects on the invisible ways that greed can impact generations, turning innocent people into something corrupt. Who is to say that Georgie would look at money and work the same way if not for his visit to Uncle Rodney and Grandpa? Maybe he would’ve been a normal child. Instead, there is that need to hold onto the past, to keep negative ideals alive. While it’s not a pleasant revelation to have, it’s a perfect example of The Southern Gothic tradition. Everything is always a bit off-kilter. Still, what may be the most haunting part of all is the final line. Who cares how Georgie got the money? So long as he gets paid, that will be fine.
Coming Up Next: “That Evening Sun”
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