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.
While I have greatly enjoyed Faulkner throughout this project, there is a sense of déjà vu that came with reading “Black Music.” After the previous section broke down the gates with the phenomenal “Wash,” things slowly petered off into some of his most secondary work in the anthology. While “Beyond” is a tighter section just in terms of selection, I grew concerned that “Black Music” would be a drop in quality from the heartbreaking opener. How does one even follow up a personal story about a child’s death that discusses its morality so profoundly? In one of this book’s most clever moves, he shifts the perspective from something so earth-shatteringly sad to yet another comedic story that shows the economic disparity between white and Black communities near the end of the 19th century.
While this isn’t quite the story of blues musicians touring the south that I had assumed, there is enough here that’s rhythmic. At times recalling the conversational narrative of stories like “Fox Hunt,” things unfold with this call and response nature that builds a casual tone. Without going too far into the familiar southern dialect, the story is brought to life best in the simplest moments. An unnamed protagonist and Wilfred Midgleston are discussing the latter’s exile in the south at an oil mine, clearly on the run from somebody else. He is a colorful character, known for getting intoxicated and running around naked. What starts as some friendly stories about goofing around and trying to kill boredom slowly give way to the heart of the story, which is simultaneously comic and horrifying depending on whose perspective one favors.
Years back, Midgleston wound up in the presence of Mr. Van Dyming: a white man whose wealth has inspired him to build a theater in his garden. There will be live theater and community there, welcoming anyone who is interested. Of course, there is the unspoken rule that this mostly applies to white audiences who are more socially accepted. There is no reason to believe that Midgleston would ever be in that audience despite having a general love of music. Maybe one day he could perform on that stage, but for now, he’s simply a low position man who needs to hang low to prevent any trouble from arising. He could get arrested, maybe even lynched. It’s not worth it to step out of the shadows and admit defeat. Even then, what criminal doesn’t like to brag about what they got away with?
Overall what I love about “Black Music” is that it may be one of Faulkner’s most streamlined stories in a long time. While he’s consistently immersive with his subjects, it’s rare that he’s capable of being so dialogue driven in brisk, choppy sentences. It’s the way that the narrator questions every decision that makes them more than observers. They’re actively forwarding the plot in a way that differs from most that came before. They’re as curious as us, trying to keep things moving forward, and it’s what makes the build-up to the Mr. Van Dyming story all the more thrilling. Had this been a stage drama, it would be fun to just sit around and listen to them talk it out over a few bottles of beer. There is a masterful understanding of character and you sympathize with him even if what follows is buffoonish and downright criminal.
Why has he been down where he is for 25 years? The answer is simple. When he came into contact with Mrs. Van Dyming, he did so in the most outlandish way imaginable. Having known him to get drunk and act deranged, Midgelton deciding to jump into his garden naked with a knife in his mouth is definitely an absurd image. From his view, this is a prank that has no greater meaning. And yet from Mrs. Van Dyming’s perspective, it’s easy to imagine that he is a madman wanting to assault him, possibly even stab him. There’s no clear reason why he’s naked which only makes the moment more memorable in its strangeness.
I will admit that there is something delicate about finding Faulkner focusing on a Black protagonist in this way. Given that there are other stories like “Dry Leaves” where he’s very self-aware of the interracial politics of The American South, I can’t imagine he does this with a careless, damaging lens. He’s painting an image that is not unlike the crazed madmen you’d see in The Birth of a Nation (1915) that is going to destroy white purity. I understand Faulkner means it more as a joke, but it’s easy to see this as potentially overlooking potentially worse crimes. Maybe in reality things wouldn’t play out like this. Maybe Midgleton would’ve been captured and “prosecuted.” With that said, the choice to show this as a flashback with a lot of background keeps it from being as problematic as it could be. If nothing else, the allusions to a Black man potentially upsetting the white woman and destroying the family lineage remain true to the bigger Faulkner thesis.
For the reader, we know that Midgleton is harmless. He is more antagonistic in ways that are confusing than harmful. He leaves the situation and goes on the lam, knowing that his drunken behavior has finally caught the best of him. Papers read “Maniac at Large in Virginia Mountains.” He can’t show himself or face his fate. Does this make him a coward, or even someone who is morally weak? There’s reason to think that his punishment would be something greater than a white counterpart. Maybe it’s for the best to just hide out and live a life in exile. Then again, is that much of a life? Midgleton’s consequences for his past continue the “Beyond” section’s focus on morality and ethics around judgment. He knows what others think of him. He has an article in his pocket ready to explain it. And yet, one has to wonder how much freer he would be had he never done that, if he wasn’t a slave to alcoholism. Sure, his conversation with the unnamed narrator is electric, but one has to wonder how lonely he is the rest of the time. This is his blues song, wallowing a joke gone horribly wrong.
And yet, there seems to be one thing that amuses him. Given how much he’s lost, Midgleton has had enough time to admire the article and go over every detail. He’s able to have whole conspiracies around every sentence. What bothers him the most is that they got his name wrong, writing Middleton. It’s a simple one letter error, and yet it’s the thing that makes the reader believe he needs this as part of his legacy. This story is so bizarre that even if it cost him a public life, it deserves to be presented in a way that is accurate. It’s a bit of a punchline, but also a desperation that shows that beyond any detail, where the story could be morphed into anything, he wants the credit. He doesn’t want to atone for it, but he still wants his name in the paper. After all, Mr. Van Dyming gets it all the time. Why can’t he?
Of course, what makes it particularly interesting is how “A Friend” writes a letter to the editor asking for a correction. Did he do it, or did Midgleton’s wife decide to do it knowing that he was negligent enough to do something that foolish? So much can be interpreted in it, and there’s room to suggest that this is also a reflection of the male-female relationship in Faulkner’s work. Whereas he’s careless, Mrs. Midgleton cares enough to protect his legacy. Similarly, Mrs. Van Dyming tends to a garden to make sure it grows. Mr. Van Dyming seems more like an exhibitionist who wants to entertain. Everyone has their own little conflict in the quarrel, and it shows how sometimes it’s difficult to fully find fault even with people who have done wrong.
Is 25 years enough time to forgive Midgleton? It’s doubtful that anyone has remembered him or his crime for that long. That is, except for him, whose obsession has made him paranoid and left him to fend for safety wherever he can. He has this story and he thrives on the laughter. It’s funny, but there’s also something bittersweet underneath. Everything ends with him asking “What’s a name to a man that’s done and been something outside the lot and plan for a mortal human man to do and be?” It may be a bit rambling and run-on, but it captures the heart of the story perfectly. What is the point of his fate now that he’s already doomed to a proverbial sense of exile on earth?
While I don’t love “Black Music” as much as “Beyond,” this section is starting off very strongly and features some of the most engaging and creative characterizations that I have seen Faulkner do in some time. There’s a lot that can be read into a simple story of drunken buffoonery and the lingering impact of those consequences. It works as a cautionary tale, and one whose rhythmic flow is befitting of the title. It’s constantly entertaining and hides a deep pain underneath, or maybe even one not yet realized by the characters. It’s beautiful and strange, capturing everything that the author did so well. It’s another gem in a large crown of them.
Coming Up Next: “The Leg”
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