Short Stop: #17. William Faulkner's "Red Leaves"

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.

Given that there are 42 stories in total throughout “Collected Stories,” it is amazing to note how brief “The Wilderness” runs. Whereas “The Village” is an all-encompassing journey over 10 differing stories, the latest has a paltry four. In terms of numbers, this makes it seem the most insignificant, or at least minor when compared to the other five sections. While this would be enough to raise a few eyebrows, another thing to consider is that compared to most, this section is more than thematically cohesive. It’s actually the journey of one family named The Ikkemotubbe Family who spans decades and generations not only throughout these stories but in the greater lore of Yoknapatawpha County. They exist outside of everything that has come before. The closest that the reader has come prior is “A Bear Hunt,” and even that is more in passing reference. 

So the question ultimately becomes about what Faulkner saw in needing to write what is commonly referred to as the four “Indian Stories.” During 1957 and 1958, the author had a writer-in-residence at University of Virginia where he also answered over 1,400 questions. He claims that he was interested in Native American culture based on the relics he saw having grown up in Mississippi. He is said to have based a lot of his characters on the Chickasaw tribe. It should also be noted that he claims to not have done any significant research when it comes to writing his stories. This could explain why “Red Leaves” isn’t particularly authentic or reverential, even if it does fit within his greater worldview. As a story of family, this one story is a fairly impressive achievement on par with The Compson Family or The Snopes Family and in fact sets up many of the themes that would be featured throughout his career.

It should be noted that because of ambiguity, it is difficult to fully outline the timeline of this story. According to The Digital Yoknapatawpha Project, events begin in the 18th century with Issetibbeha who would earn the nickname “du homme” (or the man) from a Frenchman. Over time this would morph into the name Doom, which in itself comes to be the symbol of the story. Doom may still be an Indian, but his behavior comes to embody that of the white man. He steals a riverboat as shelter as well as sexually assaults an unnamed West Indian woman who becomes the mother of Issetibbeha. To speed up the story a little bit, Issetibbeha would eventually have a son named Moketubbe. While they lived off the land, there was still the belief that the white man had in some way diluted their identity to the point that they were mixed-race and owned slaves.

It should be noted that while most of Faulkner’s characters who are not white have descriptors such as "Negro," some female characters do not. One can assume race based on the West Indian title, though it’s not abundantly clear. Even then, one of the appeals of “Red Leaves” is how The Ikkemotubbe Family are accepting of being mixed race whereas stories like “Elly” highlight white characters’ fears of people who don’t look exactly like them. Even the idea of a West Indian alludes to the idea that they have been infused with western ideology, losing something that makes them authentic. Given that Doom earns his bad luck nickname from a Frenchman, it makes sense that his whole lineage has to deal with complicated relationships.

Despite Faulkner’s impressively dense journey from Doom to Moketubbe, the story is ultimately about the sanctity of death. It is also his first major work about slavery where the death of Issetibbeha leads the son to ponder the ethics around burying a slave with him. The rule of death, not unlike Egyptian culture, is to bury a chieftain with all of his possessions. For Issetibbeha, that includes a slave who is still living. The story that follows is a dark and sometimes humorous journey of Moketubbe trying to capture said slave and bury him.

Another interesting thing about the characterization is that while Issetibbeha is mostly a physically abled person, Faulkner decides to make Moketubbe a bit of an oaf. He is someone who has put on weight and is speculated to have an intellectual disability. This could be a result of codependence that resulted in him not having the physical prowess of his ancestors. He has become so reliant on a lifestyle that isn’t natural that it has gone from being just a deterioration of name and self to a whole body. This isn’t to suggest that Faulkner writes the character as a completely repulsive and useless character, but there is something better seen as symbolic about him. Whereas a normal person would not give into murdering a slave just to appease their dead father, the idea of a bastardized legacy haunts him.

Of course, slavery as a greater concept is interesting when presented to The Ikkemotubbe Family. When one thinks of Native Americans, there is self-reliance that is assumed. They live off the land and have no use in hiring help. It’s a point that Faulkner brings up in the text, claiming that they aren’t entirely sure why they have slaves around other than it’s what they learned from the white man. It’s the irony that makes burying an unnamed slave with Issetibbeha lack sense. It’s codependence on someone else, an inability to be true to themselves. If they were to give into slaves, they would lose any value in their identity just in terms of self-reliance. It explains Moketubbe’s handicaps and why the story feels strangely tragic.

Among the noteworthy events that happened towards the end is being bitten by a venomous snake. Despite the arm being poisoned, there is a consideration for axing off the arm to keep it from spreading. It’s odd because the slave is bound to die shortly after, so why go through with this futile gesture? According to The CodeX Cantina, there’s a theory that it’s meant to symbolize the poisonous rhetoric of the white man from spreading and infecting the rest of the body. By cutting it off, there is still a chance to remain pure. Given that Moketubbe by this point is a byproduct of generations of codependence, it’s a bit hypocritical to think that it will stop now. If anything, they’re now just as bad as the white man because they’re doing the same awful practices. The final question is what was it all for? Even if there aren’t any significant white characters, it feels like they have infiltrated the text so effectively that they haven’t just hurt people through slavery, but through brainwashing. Even the fact that Moketubbe wanted a pair of slippers with red heels that his father brought back from a European trip shows a desire for something distant from his culture.

On some level, it should be noted that the story suffers from racism. While it’s not the biggest example of Faulkner succumbing to overarching stereotypes like Jews in “Death Drag,” there are times when it feels recognizable. It’s inevitable in a story that features rape and murder as well as infiltration of white ideology. Even the idea of Moketubbe being overweight and mentally impaired could play into stereotypes of “the ignorant savage.” They don’t have a complicated way of thinking and thus do what pleases them. While the dexterity with which Faulkner writes will suggest that there’s more to this story, anyone looking at “Red Leaves” by itself could be seen as one note characters.

Even in the author’s bigger body of work, it is interesting to note that this was his first story to really deal with slavery. Given its presence in the “Village” section, one could easily compare the codependence on slavery by Issetibbeha to that of “A Rose for Emily” where characters ruined Emily’s life just to try and hold onto outdated ideals. Given that the circles in “The Wilderness” aren’t likely to interact with Jefferson, it does allow for the world to continually grow, to show how the interests of Faulkner expand to areas of the south the reader hasn’t crossed in “Collected Stories” just yet. In some ways it’s arguably an example of this ideology existing throughout history, tying it to something more organic that has grown over generations. The picture looks much bigger now than it did even a story ago, and that is fairly exciting. 

Another thing that is interesting to note is that “Red Leaves” is the second story he had published in Saturday Evening Post. While it was published in the October 25, 1930 issue, there’s been suggestion that it was written between 1927 and 1929. It has appeared in revised formats in various places like “These 13” (1931) and “The Portable Faulkner” (1946) before being finalized in “Collected Stories.” Over the years, it has gained a reputation as one of his most acclaimed works. This was in part because of its ability to detail multiple generations of plot over 28 pages in ways that rivaled his novels. Much like “Barn Burning” before, it works as a standalone journey into how a family relates to itself across generations, but it does feel like a great disservice to stop there when so much more is available.

To begin with, experience with The Ikkemotubbes Family is far from finished in “Collected Stories.” The next story “A Justice” will go into more detail surrounding how Doom gained his name. In total, there are 16 texts covering the family’s existence and there are 12 relatives mentioned in “Red Leaves” alone. It should be noted that while this article focused on Doom, Issetibbeha, and Moketubbe, their stories from here don’t overlap outside of a few examples, most notably in “The Reivers.” Even several unnamed characters like Doom’s mother (who has “Negro blood”) will have more prominence in other stories. It’s a fairly dense lineage and one that will hopefully enhance Yoknapatawpha County lore to the same levels of groups like The Snopes Family. 

There’s a lot to look forward to in “The Wilderness,” if just because it’s the closest that this collection comes to reflecting Faulkner’s interest in world building. While there’s consistent overlap throughout these stories, it’s rarely a straight line and requires plenty of backtracking. With The Ikkemotubbe Family, it looks like things will be collected in one pod, hopefully creating something that not only enhances the family but reflects the author’s strength as a creator. Given how acclaimed this outing has been, one can imagine how much more excitement lies ahead. 




Coming Up Next: “A Justice”

Comments