You Don't Want to Make Me Angry...

I was really struck by the character Abner Snopes in Faulkner’s “Barn Burning.” There was something about him that made me think he wasn’t an altogether bad guy even though he hits his son, shoves his wife, and apparently is a serial arsonist, which makes me wonder if that would have made him the first serial arsonist in American history. Alas, that is to be pondered in depth some other time. Faulkner spends a lot of time vaguely describing Abner, his son, and their relationship making him a mysterious and interesting character to analyze.

Abner Snopes is a poor white man aka po’ white trash in what appears to be post-civil war/emancipation South. He is a sharecropper who, when the story begins, is accused of, but not convicted of, burning someone’s barn. We find out that his son is illiterate and hungry, and his twin daughters look malnourished and are wearing cheap, ratty clothing. This guy is obviously not Dad of the year. I did not, however, hate him like I did Minnie in “Dry September.” I sort of felt sorry for him, and I think this is intentional on Faulkner’s part, because his own descriptions of Abner are contradictory. Physically, Abner is “wiry” and “stiff”, and is usually accompanied with a description of his black coat. His son “followed the stiff black coat, the wiry figure walking a little stiffly…”.(162) I interpret this as representing that sharecropping has replaced slaves in the South thus making sharecroppers, white and black, basically slaves. Post civil war the poor white class now overlapped with blacks, and Abner is dangerously jealous and angry that he is basically black. When they get to the new house, he remarks that it is “’Pretty and white, ain’t it?.’ he said. ‘That’s sweat. Nigger sweat. Maybe it ain’t white enough yet to suit him. Maybe he wants to mix some white sweat with it.’”(167) Abner is aware of his status but doesn’t really have any alternatives, but he can’t really take it. In a particularly self-destructive moment, right after the above quote, he steps in horse poo (which he could have easily avoided) and gets it all over his master’s rug. Not exactly what I call “getting off on the right foot”, but different strokes for different folks, I guess.

Abner also has a sort of surprising strength to him. He is repeatedly described as wiry but “effortlessly” swings the boy up on to the horse and jerks the mule to a stop with one arm. He is also described as grim and we are told he has a “harsh, calm face”.(171) Harsh and calm seem to kind of contradictory, but I think it means he has this potential for anger rages that he tries to mask, kind of like the Incredible Hulk I guess. The combination of strength, anger, and grimness make a pretty scary dude. Faulkner notes multiple times though that Abner does things “without heat”, notably when he strikes his son, pushes his wife out of the way, and when calls someone working in the house a nigger. When he pushes his wife he does it “not savagely or viciously.” I don’t know exactly what we are to make of this. I think it shows that he doesn’t have bad intentions, he just can’t help it. Faulkner’s use of this emphasized my ambiguous feelings towards Abner. Maybe we are supposed to feel sorry for him. It seems there is just something deeply wrong with him that no one can fix. “The old habit, the old blood which he had not been permitted to choose for himself…which had run for so long (and who knew where, battering on what of outrage and savagery and lust) before it came back to him.”(173) Maybe this self-destructive quality is hereditary and Abner looks at it with the attitude that he just can’t do anything about it.

I think the most redeeming qualities Abner has to offer are those when seen through his son’s eyes. His son doesn’t appear to have the same “blood” as his father and brother, who in the little we see of him, appears have the same cruel, violent mindset of his father. He admires his father immensely, though. He always gives him the benefit of the doubt and supports him when the master tries to take 20 extra bushels of crops as payment for the rug Abner ruined. The boy struggles between doing the right thing throughout the story. His father hits him in the beginning of the story for almost telling the truth in court about the previous barn burning, and the boy struggles at the end but ends up telling one of the black workers that his father is going to burn the barn, which results in his father getting shot. After he hears the gunshots, the boy feels “grief and despair” and cries out “He was brave!”(175) Maybe the story isn’t as depressing as I first thought. At least his son did the “right” thing even though it went against his family and was extremely difficult for him to do. This gives us the hope that his son isn’t cursed by his bloodline which makes his future seem brighter and with more possibilities than his father and brother. Abner’s death was inevitable, as deaths tend to be, but I think his was more so because he just didn’t fit in with society what with the arson and rug ruining. Perhaps for Abner death was a release from the cruel Reconstruction South.

Duke Lax and Faulkner

Faulkner uses strong gender stereotypes in "Dry September." The men are super-macho, quick to judge, irrational, defensive, and insecure, and the women are cruel, gossipy social climbers with "feverish, glittering" eyes.(445) Most of these traits are common gender stereotypes. The men are all led to capturing Willy by a couple of bully's in a barber shop talking about sheer rumors based on no evidence whatsoever. McLendon goes so far as to say it doesn't matter if Willy did do it or not. It's a pre-emptive strike. "Happen? What the hell difference does it make? Are you going to let the black sons get away with it until one really does it?" He peer-pressures the men into following him, and they comply, like sheep.

I think the men share this trait with the women as well. With the exception of a couple of standouts (Hawkshaw, Minnie, Willy), the men and women all just seem like mindless hordes of people that do whatever they are told to do. I take this as Faulkner telling the reader what he thinks of social hierarchies and societal norms and rules. I'm not sure if that's why Faulkner made it really difficult to keep track of the characters.

I was left feeling really unsatisfied at the end. Faulkner chose not to explain anything about Minny or Willy, so we will never know what really happened. I still don't really understand Minny's laughing attack. I really wanted to know whether she made the whole thing up for attention, or if she was having a consensual relationship with Willy, or whether he did do whatever he was accused of. In the wake of the Duke "rape" case in Durham, NC the story is clearly still relevant today. There are still serious racial tensions in our country. That particular case is alarmingly similiar to one possible interpretation of "Dry September," except the players don't get killed, but their reputations are damaged forever, and 8 out of the 9 seniors lost their first jobs coming out of college, even though none of them were charged with a crime.

Chopin's New Woman

In all of Kate Chopin's short stories, she emphasizes a "new" woman. This is significant because everything else we have read so far this semester has been written by white (with the exception of Douglass), "old school" men, with traditionally chauvinistic attitudes towards women . Chopin breaks the mold by being the first female author we have read, and by using a bold writing style that challenges traditional societal values about women.

The first two pages of "At the 'Cadian Ball" contain three examples of a bold, strong women. When describing Calixta, Chopin describes a fight Calixta was involved with another woman about a lover, which culminated in them swearing at
and hitting each other on the steps in front of a church in Assumption, "till the cure himself was obliged to hasten and make peace with them."(623) I think even today people would be very surprised to see that. Chopin uses this example to emphasize the sexuality of these two (and all) women, and by placing the fight at the church, she shows that walls of historic attitudes towards sex and sexuality are being broken down.

On the next page, there are two examples involving Clarisse that show a "new" woman. The first is Clarisse's reaction after Alcee comes in from the field, all sweaty and manly, and "clasped Clarisse by the arms and panted a volley of hot, blistering love-words into her face."(624) Clarisse gives the "ladylike" reaction by saying "Monsieur!", as though she is disturbed by this, although she is not. Clarisse looks at Alcee "full in the eyes, without a quiver. Alcee's hands dropped and his glance wavered before the chill of her calm, clear eyes."(624) Chopin reverses traditional gender roles by describing both Alcee and Clarisse in two ways. At the start, Alcee is this traditional manly, powerful, confident man and Clarisse is this proper lady who is taken aback by Alcee's outburst. But after this, we see that Clarisse is the more confident and more powerful figure. She never takes her "calm, clear eyes" off of Alcee's, but he drops his hands and looks away. She puts on the front of what a "lady" is but Chopin wants us to see her as a confident, empowered, smart woman.

Chopin goes on to describe Clarisse not being able to sit still and watch Alcee pack up and leave for the Ball. She watches him go, but "her impatience and anxiety would not be held in check."(624) She goes outside and talks one of the slaves into telling her where he went and then taking her there. This is a woman who knows how to get what she wants. She goes up there, and Alcee leaves right away, without even knowing why-"He would have followed [Clarisse's] voice anywhere."(625) She uses her beauty, and whatever else is attractive about her, to achieve her goals. No one can say no to her.

Calixta, not to be outdone, works over another man after Alcee ditches her for Clarisse. Feeling rejected, she falls back on the guy who has always loved her, Bobinot. He has always wanted to marry her, and she tells him that if he asks her, well, she won't say no. Bobinot is overjoyed, and can't speak, but finally Calixta "held out her hand in the business-like manner of a man who clinches a bargain."(628) Chopin here is comparing her to a businessman to show that she is smart and powerful. She won't even give poor Bobinot a kiss. She is playing him like a fiddle. Chopin wants us to see that woman can definitely use a man's desire against him. Yes, both these men got what they wanted in the end, but there is a huge power game going on that they don't even know they're playing.

I dont think that many of the writers we have read so far would have enjoyed Chopin's "new" woman, particularly John Smith, Jefferson, and Fitzhugh. These men had very traditional views of the world, and I don't think they would have appreciated Chopin's writing, particularly in "The Storm" that is overtly sexual and shows no repercussions for having an affair. I guess that's mostly the reason that story wasn't published until the 19600s. Chopin herself is one of these new women, she challenged the stereotypes of what a woman could be and pushed to the edge of what she could get away with publishing.

Santa's Elves-Slaves or Freemen?

The perspective of Frederick Douglass' narrative made me think about a number of issues in ways I never have before. The most interesting thing he discusses, to me, is that slavery as an institution and slaveholders' benevolence towards slaves are both "frauds". I had never thought to think of a slaveholder giving his slave a portion of his earnings or a break during the Christmas and New Year's holiday in a negative way, but Douglass shows how these techniques served the master's interests more than the slaves'.

Douglass first touches on this subject when he brings up the subject of the Christmas holiday, which is, in his mind, "part and parcel of the gross fraud, wrong, and inhumanity of slavery." What? I thought Christmas was supposed to be fun! The slaves were given the week between Christmas and New Year's off, and, with the exception of taking care of the animals, they had this time to themselves. Douglass talks about how a small group put themselves to work making things they needed like baskets and brooms while others hunted, although the vast majority played sports and got drunk all week. At first read, I thought, "And the problem is...?" Douglass goes on to say "A slave who would work during the holidays was considered by our masters as scarcely deserving them...It was deemed a disgrace not to get drunk at Christmas."(199) Again, I'm thinking, "Everyone gets drunk at Christmas, what is the big deal?" Here's where Douglass flips my perspective: "From what I know of the effect of these holidays upon the slave, I believe them to be among the most effective means in the hands of the slaveholder in keeping down the spirit of insurrection...These holidays are served as conductors, or safety-valves, to carry off the rebellious spirit of enslaved humanity."(199-200)

Douglass similarly opens my eyes when he speaks of his disgust towards his Master Hugh, who would sometimes give Douglass six cents as a reward for bringing him six dollars in a week. Again, I would not have given this a second thought had it not been for Douglass' interesting perspective on the matter. Instead of being appreciative, even grateful, and encouraging Douglass, it did exactly the opposite. "The fact that he gave me any part of my wages was proof, to my mind, that he believed me entitled to the whole of them. I always felt worse for having received any thing; for I feared that the giving me a few cents would ease his conscience, and to make him feel himself to be a pretty honorable sort of robber."(213) Again, I was surprised to hear this, but it makes perfect sense. It gets even worse when he hires his time out, but owes Master Hugh six dollars a week, "rain or shine", giving his master "All of the benefits of slave holding without its evils...."(213)

Douglass presents a very logical argument for everything he says in his Narrative. It is impossible to argue with his point that slave holders' benevolence was very often cause by selfish reasons, such as quashing any thought of rebellion and making the slaves think life wasn't "all that bad." The fact of the matter is, as Douglass points out, it was that bad, regardless of six cents here or a week off there, and the only thing worse was that slave holders' consciences were eased by these so-called acts of kindness that he considers insulting.