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.
In keeping with the other stories in “Beyond,” the author has chosen to set “Mistral” in someplace far from home. While he has covered World War II before and rather efficiently in the “Wasteland” section, he brings it back for maybe the last time in this anthology to discuss a detail that has run rampant throughout the entire 42 story collection. The choice to set the story in Italy is important. This differs from the “Wasteland” section because it’s not so much about active combat duty (notably in France), but because it’s about noticing an attitude that is running through the air. Much like the mistral that is present in the title, Faulkner is obsessed with exploring the use of fascism to sway people.
Most historians will be quick to point out that it’s difficult to not notice America’s problematic history with race. Faulkner is one of those who is very self-aware of this action and has used his prose to comment on it. As a lover of literature, he was more open-minded to other perspectives and while he would write racist characters, such as in “Mountain Victory,” there is the sense that he was always against racism. There would always be some punishment for those who were intolerant, whether it be literal or the perceived tragedy of Yoknapatawpha changing into a more progressive society. Even then, the conflicts of interracial dating pop up sporadically and other stories have even commented on the Anti-Semitism that was prominent when the author lived in Hollywood. It has even been argued that he commented on Anti-Fascism before the rise of evil powers like Adolf Hitler with the character of Percy Grimm in his 1932 novel “Light in August.”
With that said, I don’t believe that anything in “Collected Stories” has really given him access to discuss Anti-Fascism in a direct way so far. Given that “Beyond” has become a section full of morality tales with spiritual undertones, it makes sense for it to be present here, especially since Faulkner isn’t necessarily doing it in the most explicit ways imaginable. Everything is subtle, like walking unknowingly into a dangerous landmine. Two American soldiers are in Italy to determine if a bride’s suitor was murdered in a fascist plot. It’s among the longer and more winding stories in this anthology, but it does begin to raise a lot of interesting questions about the land around them as they observe the people.
Given that I believe that each of these stories has a subtext around religion, I think it would be interesting to mention the unintentional symbolism. Yes, there is some historical truth that dictator Roberto Mussolini ruled over Italy during the time of this story. However, there is something to be said about Italy’s proximity to The Vatican, which is one of the holy lands for Christian doctrine. The Pope oversees the universal beliefs and is in charge of maintaining order. To place that alongside the more violent and irrational mindset of Mussolini is an impressive technique, showing the direct parallels between peace and violence. It also allows for the idea of forgiving your enemies to be more muddled and makes everyone subservient. They’re either loyal to the church or the leader. As the title suggests, mistral is also a wind path that runs through Italy, and it becomes difficult to fight the current when it does things as simple as attempting to put your cigarette out.
To get back to the central characters, an unnamed narrator and Don are in Italy mostly observing their surroundings. It’s a nice little mystery that is more satisfying from a thematic standpoint. As the characters progress through the landscape, they find small details starting to emerge. Unlike a story like “Ad Astra” where their outsiderness is more prominent, this is one where it’s more subdued. Maybe it’s because they’re on a mission and have more focus on their goals. It’s not so much a study of loneliness and a desire to go home, but more one of attempting to understand injustice in the world.
A simple one emerges fairly quickly. As they talk to people who live here, they mention that they “No spika English. I love Mussolini.” Whether or not it’s true, there’s a sense of being unable to have a greater conversation. The individuality of character is gone in “Mistral” because those who talk up will be executed. Maybe their central focus met a similar fate. It’s the type of concern that keeps them moving forward, strategically trying to decide whom to talk to and when. Over the story’s two sections, they try to find contact and succeed in the general sense. However, there is some awareness that even as they confront the church to attend the funeral, there is nervousness around saying anything objectionable to fascism. It could backfire. As a result, those who claim to know better say “No spika English.” It’s just easier that way.
Another prominent image throughout “Mistral” is the presence of cigarettes. As they wait for a greater answer to come, they keep meeting for casual conversations. An issue is that with the mistral wind blowing, they’re not lit for very long. This symbolic respite from a difficult time is overwhelming, as if an invisible force is stopping them from having any liberties. The only way to get them back is to escape, and yet they need answers to this complicated manner. Even as the story finds some truth, it’s not the complete picture. People are still complicit in this bad behavior, taken advantage of for their own safety. Cigarettes could also represent the light of hope being put out, as if Italy is a place without any potential for a better future.
What helps with putting “Mistral” here as opposed to the “Wasteland” section is how it builds on the context that preceded it. Faulkner is someone who is obsessed with deconstructing history, and it’s evident that putting this after something like “There Was a Queen” which is very origin-heavy allows the context of the World War II conflicts to also feel relevant to how he sees Yoknapatawpha. Even if each story has a way of being independent, having this subconscious view of the mistreatment of various racial and religious groups allows for some correlation to take place without being overtly said. Because the reader has experienced the conflicts of interracial relationships or even the foolish decisions to raise statues to arrogant men, the idea of fascism is no longer just an overseas conflict but one that exists within everyone.
In general, Faulkner has been quick to criticize fascism and general hatred. By emphasizing arrogance, he has allowed his stories to be confrontational without endorsing the actions. Even then, there was once consideration that “Light in August” was promoting bigotry, and others like “Sanctuary” accepted Anti-Semitism. However, that is to ignore the space in between the text, where the characters were ridiculed whether by others or by the author. In “Mistral,” the actions have something more bittersweet attached. It’s the sense of facing death and being too scared to face it for your own safety. There is no reason that these civilians should die over hateful rhetoric, but at the same time how does one evoke change? The forces are too powerful and would prove difficult to take down with just two soldiers. America also isn’t as innocent as one would assume. They may be fighting for good, but they have a spotty history to back it up.
The story is assumed to have been inspired by Faulkner’s own 1928 journey to Europe. Having discussed his time in combat through the “Wasteland” stories, he has chosen to focus on something more mundane and it’s resulted in one of his more creatively meandering stories. While I love the intent of what he’s doing here and think it’s another great example of his gifts with symbolism, it does feel like it doesn’t have the forward momentum that his other stories do. It’s more meditative and observant, creating a sense of how the world is unified by similar ideologies. Italy going through a fascist period isn’t any different than slavery before the Civil War. It just feels different because it’s not the homeland. This is what Faulkner fought for in war. It’s what he sympathized with in stories like “Shall Not Perish.” With that said, is anyone really better than what they’re fighting against?
To be honest, “Mistral” reads as something that’s very personal. It allows him to finally address themes more explicitly outside the presence of American history. Here it manages to be this almost spiritual journey through a land of literal good and evil. There is a recognition that they need to solve the problem, but are also self-reflecting on their own faults. As someone who has spoken out against bigotry for most of his career, Faulkner is definitely genuine in how he turns this into a literary exercise, where he uses the concept of “No spika English” and even religion to show how these ideas are suppressing others. It’s better to lie and say that you like the dictator than make any significant change.
It is also funny to write this piece a few weeks after the Netflix film Pinocchio (2022) has dropped. While by no means similar in the overall story, they both emphasize fascism in Italy during WWII. There’s this great commentary on the conflict of militarism as being entirely destructive and pointless, where innocence is lost to bombs. The tragedy is how the whole story begins. And yet, what ties it to “Mistral” well enough is that Mussolini is an actual character who at one point goes to a puppet show, believing that they will repeat the messages that he desires everyone to spout. When Pinocchio the character decides to sing a jubilant and critical number, Mussolini grows upset by someone talking back. This kicks the violence into gear, showing the ultimate faults of fighting back against fascism, especially during those times.
I haven’t read the original “Pinocchio,” so I can’t comment on its similarities to “Mistral,” but I do know that the decision to make it one of the last prominent stories in “Collected Stories” is a brilliant move just for how excellently “Beyond” is tying everything together in a thematic way. Faulkner has always been curious about the way humanity has handled their beliefs, and this is a great example of how evil can be at times boring and even innocent-looking from the outside. So long as one doesn’t speak up, they will be fine. Otherwise, they might end up like their friend, mysteriously dead and unable to provide any fodder against the cause. Keep trying to spark that cigarette and make a light of hope. It won’t last long so long as evil exists in the world.
Coming Up Next: “Divorce in Naples”
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