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 some delays, this column has finally reached the end of the penultimate section. “The Middle Grounds” was, if nothing else, one of the most unpredictable sections of this collection so far. What started with “Wash” exploring religion with a visit to a barn evolved to include stories of death on a train (“Pennsylvania Station”) and even complicated relationships (“Doctor Martino”). Unlike what came before, I couldn’t honestly sew them altogether into one grand thesis. My prediction that I came in with remains largely true in my belief that these were the stories that Faulkner considered to be great, but weren’t topical enough to fit into the other sections. There’s a lot here that’s useful, but it’s also some of his messiest work.
Which makes ending on “Mountain Victory” a particularly exciting affair. Given that these past few stories have centered on legacy, it makes sense that this would culminate in one of the author’s most thematic middle grounds in his entire career: The Civil War. As a Mississippian writer, it’s clear that he’s curious to know how the feud between Confederate and Union troops ultimately reshaped America over the decades to come. In most cases, he depicts this with women representing fertility and gatekeepers of history. Here, it’s something more masculine. If one was concerned with how the men of Faulkner treated their significant others, then rest assured that they’re less polite around each other.
Having seen him explore the reconstruction of Jefferson County over the past 35 stories, it makes sense that he would want to explore the moment of change. By all accounts, The Civil War is over and everyone is preparing to go back to their lives. The Confederates lost the war and must begin assimilating to the north’s requests. As anyone living in contemporary America will know, telling the loser of anything that they must accept defeat peacefully will not go down easily. In fact, Faulkner’s not exactly preaching a fantasy where that happens. If anything, he has created a cabin fever of a story where placing the two sides in a room together could end up just prolonging the bitterness between them. It’ll take years before they might even talk to each other, so this is not the best moment to presume hospitality.
Enter Major Saucier Weddell and his servant Jubal. While traveling through the Tennessee mountains, they look for shelter. Weddell is a confederate soldier who is injured, and needs someplace out of the cold to find relief. He just wants to get back home, but life isn’t that simple. Even if he’s initially sure that this will be an uneventful stay, things become clear that he’s in unfriendly territory. Those inside are sympathetic to the union. Do they even know that the war is over? Does it even matter? There’s already a sense of divide in America, and his presence there isn’t sure to go over well.
One of them is Vatch, who openly hates The Confederates. He is ecstatic about their loss. Even then, he must play nice and hope that he will be on his way when the next day arises. What makes this story particularly exciting is how it manages to display the controversies between the two parties in a way that symbolizes a general distrust that likely existed when Faulkner was writing it. Even if he has been fond of discussing southern ideology in grand and creative details, Vatch is one of the few who has a northern perspective, meaning that he seems the most foreign to every character in “Collected Stories” so far. The hostility that Vatch displays make sense, but it also feels strangely incongruent with the other stories. The squabbles that Faulkner has focused on were more of a minor scale. Outside of something like “A Rose for Emily,” he hasn’t discussed in great detail the symbolic disconnect of America in the late 19th century.
With all of this said, it makes sense to think that Weddell isn’t ready for change either. His injury could symbolize the confederacy losing their standing, unable to defend themselves. However, the greatest sign of him being an outsider is Jubal. Among the conflicts of The Civil War was slavery and a codependence on free labor. Faulkner has been keen on including servants or slaves in supporting roles, and it does seem like a way to reflect the shortcomings of his protagonists. While they can be seen as being strong leaders, they still have to rely on servants to tend to horses or provide various free labor. To have Jubal around is to connect himself to a lack of independence. His usefulness in a legal sense is fading fast, and Weddell would probably be dead if not for him. It’s a fun irony, and one made more tragic because of Jubal’s loyalty. No matter what happens to Weddell, he will be there ready to serve him. It could just be that as a Black man he isn’t sure where to go or what to do, but it’s also the reality that old habits die hard. When being a servant is all you know, what is your backup plan?
Throughout the night, Weddell has to be on his guard. He is skeptical to accept alcohol even as a friendly gesture, believing that it would cause him to be vulnerable. He’s paranoid, believing that anyone would kill him at any moment. Despite this being post-war, i.e. a “peaceful” time, violence still lingers. Wounds haven’t had time to heal, so everyone is bruised with a hostile history. With all of this said, it’s interesting that Faulkner makes the northern perspective more likely to be evil when they are seen as more virtuous. It could just be because of his sympathizing with Mississippi, but it’s also a way to rewrite history a little bit and show that both sides had difficult personalities. They would burn the other down if they had the chance.
This is what makes the story so great. Even if it ranks among his longer stories in this collection, it’s among the tensest prose that he’s written. The uncertainty that Weddell would be alive at the end leaves one wondering if a small, uncivil war between parties would break out all over again. What is the good in prolonging the bloodshed? I don’t know that this dares to answer those questions, but I think it’s cynically and rather logically written as a post-script to the war to suggest that a happy ending isn’t immediate. Based on the other stuff he’s written, there’s no evidence that it ever fully came true. There will always be someone ready to murder the other side, making the dream of Abraham Lincoln’s unified country more difficult to achieve. The ending comes with a certain tragedy to it. The arrogance and unwillingness to move on is something that a lot of Faulkner’s characters have suffered from, and here it’s taken to its most literal extreme. The Civil War is over, but so long as Weddell and Vatch remain angry, the goals of battle will not have been achieved. Without the loyalty of Jubal, Weddell would be dead either way.
Surviving the night in Tennessee is its own mountain victory. It’s a horror story where human decency fights against inhumanity for control and fails. The war will linger on and play into the vision of the anthology’s other stories. Everything has been buried into ashes and now it’s time to rebuild. What makes this work as more than a lazy addition to the canon is how it reflects tensions that were likely very common at that time. There was a fear of living a life of cooperation, so Weddell’s inability to accept the minor hospitality that he gets shows that he’s just as likely to be prejudiced in this fight as those who threaten his life. As a symbolic device, a mountain represents this giant roadblock between the past and the future. To climb over it and find the other side is to break free of the struggle and even coldness of the snow to someplace more warm and comforting. Even then, there’s loss along the way, and it comes in certain values that Weddell may not want to give up along with the confederacy.
Something that’s interesting about this story is that it reminds me of a certain film. While I don’t think that Faulkner had any impact on the overall text, The Hateful Eight (2015) shares a similar tale of America’s past coming together in a cabin in the mountains. They struggle to deal with racism and freedom, even with women, which makes it an interesting update. It’s more stylish and casual with language, but the conflict remains fairly consistent. “Mountain Victory” is maybe more nuanced and provides more depth of character in a shorter span. With that said, there is something timeless about placing characters in closed proximities and having them try to survive. If you do it right, it makes for an engrossing read.
The story was first published on October 12, 1932 in an issue of The Saturday Evening Post. Like other stories in “The Middle Grounds” section, this is one of the few stories that take place outside Yoknapatawpha County and one of the few to take place in the northeast. It also continues the tradition after “My Grandmother Millard” and “There Was a Queen” of exploring the personal impacts of the Civil War in the immediate aftermath.
So, what exactly made “The Middle Grounds” a worthwhile section for “Collected Stories”? In all honesty, it’s probably my least favorite of the sections included here, though I’m not sure if it’s just because of how much Faulkner I’ve read at this point. Even then, the idea of Yoknapatawpha County having so much more than a thematic personality is an interesting touch. These are moments that feel like tangents in the county’s history that people share among each other. It’s not quite useful to substantial lore, but fans of the author will find a lot to like. The themes take more risks and they’re often unsuccessful. Even then, it’s nice to see a side of Faulkner that doesn’t fit elsewhere. It’s nice to know what he thinks about Hollywood or even car salesmen. He never settled on writing about the same old topics and I respect him for that.
For all of the highs and lows, “Mountain Victory” is quite possibly the perfect way to end the section. As a literal middle ground between confederate and union forces, it presents a struggle that most of his fiction exists within. As a visit to Tennessee, it’s one that’s met with uncertainty and leaves one unsure of how the future will look. It has everything that makes him a great and essential writer, finding characters struggling to survive and hold onto certain values. Whereas it’s quaint when done locally, pushing the ideals nationally comes with certain conflicts. Not everyone is ready to accept them. Faulkner asks if they’re worth defending if you run into someone who disagrees with you, and the answer may be more foolish than one thinks.
Coming Up Next: “Beyond”
Comments
Post a Comment