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African Americans in Faulkners Flags in the Dust and Go Down

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					                      African Americans in Faulkner’s Flags in the Dust

                       and Go Down, Moses: Stereotype Versus Reality

                                      By Derek Bowe, Ph.D.
                                       Professor of English
                                        Oakwood College
                                      dbowe@oakwood.edu

                                                 I

       In our age of afro-centric emphasis, William Faulkner may seem to be a problematic

writer to many African American students. On one hand, there are his impressive credentials of

being an innovative writer, meticulous craftsman, and Nobel laureate. On the other, there is a

certain discomfort many African Americans feel when reading some of his novels, for the books

seem charged with stereotypical portrayals of them. In fact, if they do not approach Faulkner’s

writings objectively, they may be tempted to label the author as a racist.

       On the surface, it looks as though the novelist’s very background supports the charge.

He was born in 1897 Mississippi, which was still smarting from its Civil War wounds. It was

one of the most segregated regions in the South, having deplorable racial relations. Not only was

Faulkner bred in this environment, but he was also the scion of an aristocratic, slave-owning

family having strong roots in the state. His great-grandfather, Colonel William C. Faulkner, was

a tempestuous Civil War veteran known to have killed two men after the War. According to

Joseph Blotner, the novelist’s biographer, the elder Faulkner included "the harassment of Negro

voters" among his post-war activities (17).

       Young William was named in honor of this charismatic businessman, best-selling author,

and influential citizen. Although Colonel Faulkner was long dead by the time his great-grandson

was born, the Faulkner clan revered their forbear, and William wished to be like him. The boy

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frequently said that he wanted to be a writer like his popular ascendant (Blotner 23). Added to

these details is James Baldwin’s essay attacking Faulkner, "Faulkner and Desegregation." In it,

the African American writer excoriates what he considers Faulkner’s infuriating caution and

racial hypocrisy. He quotes the Mississippian’s retort that “if it came to a contest between the

federal government and Mississippi, he would fight for Mississippi, ‘even if it meant going out

into the streets and shooting Negroes’” (103).

       Taken at face value, these observations paint Faulkner in an unflattering light, but close

reading of two of his books shows that he is not the inveterate racist such details suggest he is.

At the same time, the books do not present him as a full-fledged liberal. His 1929 novel Flags in

the Dust includes stereotypical portraits of African Americans, but there are significant sections

in which the developing young author transcends stereotypes. The 1942 Go Down, Moses

displays his progressive racial understanding. While this short story collection has largely

realistic African American characters, however, Faulkner retains some residual stereotypical

elements in describing them.



                                                 II

Scholars have generally pointed out the novelist’s limitations in depicting African Americans in

works like Flags in the Dust, the restored version of Sartoris. According to Edmond Volpe,

"[T]here is far less variety in Faulkner's major Negro characters or his elite-family characters.

Most of the Negroes with important roles are variations on members of a single Negro family"

(16). In commenting on figures like Flags in the Dust's Simon and Go Down, Moses' Lucas and

Molly Beauchamp, he notes that while such characters are drawn "with skill and respect for their

individuality and character," most of Faulkner's other Negroes "are renditions of the traditional
                                                 2
Negro stereotypes" (16). Hyatt Waggoner makes similar claims of Flags in the Dust’s African

American characters, noting that Faulkner depicts them “not primarily as people but as forms of

behavior, and somewhat stereotyped behavior at that” (30).

       Cleanth Brooks, the distinguished Faulknerian, admits that "Faulkner's treatment of them

in this novel [Flags in the Dust], however, will be the part of it most difficult for the reader of

our mid-century to accept. He may object to what he regards as the use of stereotypes..." (113).

In Brook's opinion, Flags in the Dust contains hackneyed images, but its "treatment of the Negro

need not be allowed to go simply by default" (113). He thus observes that the novel “is not an

argument about what the relation between the two races ought to be, but a rendering of the

actuality of its time, in which the relationship is presented as it was in all its complexity and with

all its aspects: good, bad, and indifferent; pathetic, cruel, or tender (114).

       Mr. Brooks notwithstanding, African American readers find much of Faulkner’s

treatment of their counterparts repugnant, especially his crude association of them with animals.

Of course, such depiction is not new, but one wishes the novelist had let them forever rest in the

graves of the Thomas Dixons of the world. It is unfortunate that Faulkner draws upon early

twentieth century literature’s tendency to imitate scientific naturalism and to regard African

Americans as animals, the latter belief having roots in theories founded in “the biblical curse of

the sons of Ham” (Sundquist 139).

       Influenced by such views, Flags in the Dust portrays African Americans as having

special affinity with animals. Thus Simon, proud of his position as the aristocratic Bayard

Sartoris' coachman, is shown to love "horses, and beneath his hands the sorriest beast [blooms]

and [acquires] comeliness like a caressed woman, temperament like an opera star" (8). When a

spirited stallion throws young Bayard in an unconscious heap to the ground, an African
                                                   3
American hostler, presented as having an almost mystical rapport with the horse, captures it: "it

[submits] docilely to capture by the negro hostler" (141, 142).

       It is hardly surprising that Flags in the Dust displays African Americans as being

intuitively adept at handling animals, since it often portrays them in animalistic terms. Standing

on a downtown Jefferson sidewalk, young Bayard views "Negroes slow and aimless as figures of

a dark placid dream, with an animal odor, murmuring and laughing among themselves" (127).

There is a picture of old Bayard observing his retainer, in which Simon appears as a pompous

gorilla: "Old Bayard sat watching his apelike head and the swaggering tilt of the top hat" (260).

When young Bayard recuperates from a car crash, Simon is solicitous but meddlesome: "He

entered on tiptoe, and ... he scuffed across to the table with sounds of a huge rat"(273).

       Even in the scene in which young Bayard spends Christmas on a Negro farm, a scene

singled out for its touching evidences of brotherhood and familial love, animalistic depiction

again figures. Outside the cabin, Bayard tells its occupants that he is lost, watching as "the door

[cracks] upon a dying glow of embers, emitting a rank odor of negroes" (387). The implication

that they belong to some untouchable, substandard species is continued when Bayard is given a

quilt with which to cover as the cold night approaches: "It was a quilt, ragged and filthy to the

touch, and impregnated with the unmistakable odor of negroes" (389). The farmer's children are

termed "pickaninnies," the hair of his daughter described as "wool," while another is

characterized as being sexually indeterminate, a thing: "The second one might have been either

or anything" (391). When dinner is ready, "the children [are] crawling about [Bayard's] feet like

animals scenting food" (393). This animalistic depiction is revolting, but its nadir occurs in a

digression in which Faulkner equates a mule with an African American, noting that the


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creature’s “impulses and mental processes most clearly resemble his [the African American’s]”

(314).

         African American readers cannot help but observe further stereotypical sections

tarnishing Flag in the Dust’s greatness. "Nigger," the emotionally charged word that has reduced

their selfhood and future, is used pervasively and matter-of-factly. In so doing, the novel

suggests that its insensitive racial features are natural. One gets the distinct impression that the

young Faulkner, in trying to establish himself as an author, is prostituting his artistic ability to

meet early twentieth century expectations of African Americans.

         In his description, an African American’s eyes are forever being rolled. The principal

culprit is Isom: "his eyes rolled whitely in his bullet head" (86); he was "rolling his eyes in the

dark, cool doorway" (120); and he is later shown as "[rolling] his eyes quietly above his steady

jaws" (265). When he takes young Bayard's car for a stealthy jaunt, Simon and old Bayard see

more than just the ubiquitous eyes; they see "the whites of Isom's eyes and the ivory cropping of

his teeth behind the steering wheel" (2). While Narcissa and the recuperating young Bayard

watch the work at a sugar mill, "the [Negro] boy rolled his eyes covertly at them as he fed the

mill" (315). African Americans also are shown to have physical attributes differing from

Whites; Faulkner notes the "lean black calves" of the boy rescuing a driver injured in an accident

(232).

         Apart from its demeaning physical images of African Americans, Flags in the Dust often

portrays them as shiftless, lazy buffoons. Described as a malingerer, Isom is said to have

"lounged up from somewhere" as Miss Jenny calls him (53). Caspey is shown to be just like

him; wondering about him, Miss Jenny asks, "Where is he now? Asleep I reckon?" (53).

Echoing Miss Jenny, Faulkner notes Caspey's "lazy insolence" (67) and slouching (68) as he
                                                   5
examines Narcissa's car "with a disparagement too lazy to sneer even" (68). Outside Negro

cabins, young Bayard observes "wagons [standing] or warped farm implements [leaning],

shelterless, after the shiftless fashion of negroes" (157). At his place of refuge on Christmas, he

views "the casual farming tools rusting about the barnyard and the dead cotton stalks where the

negro had farmed his land right up to his back door..." (390).

       Such "indolent" beings are continually the butts of jokes. Young Bayard delights in

racing his car through the countryside, scaring superstitious "darkies," supposedly embodying

African American fear and ignorance of technology. Once, he terrorizes the elderly Simon,

reducing him to a being in which the eyes "were unwinking and in them was that mindless

phosphorescence of an animal's" (124). Desperately trying to stop the car, the old man gibbers,

"Dat's de way you stops it, Lawd! Dat's de way you stops it, Lawd!" (124). Such clown-like

scene certainly drew laughter from readers conditioned by Stephin Fetchit antics and "Shine"

tales. However, they hurt African American readers.

       While Flags in the Dust’s stereotyping may anger them, the novel does have redeeming

racial features. One can see the beginnings of Faulkner's attempt to deal seriously with African

Americans. He tries, in however flawed a fashion, to delineate their world beyond the kitchen.

In Simon, a loveable folk character, one sees beyond his devotion to a White family that he

regards as his own. Faulkner utilizes him to highlight everyday religious and sensual

interactions between African Americans. In Caspey and Isom, furthermore, the novelist attempts

to cover the subjects of the meaning of freedom, respect for one's self, and the dreamings of

adolescence.

       Lastly, there is historical accuracy in the book. One literary historian, Joel Williamson,

continually emphasizes this point in commenting on some feature that Faulkner reports:
                                                 6
"William Faulkner, with his usual unflagging instinct for truth about the South" (190); "Faulkner

was probably right again" (195); "William Faulkner was right again" (222). Such praise is not

unmerited. For instance, Faulkner remarks on the silverware "which Simons's grandfather Joby

had buried one time beneath the ammoniac barn floor while Simon, aged three in a single filthy

garment, had looked on with a child's grave interest in the curious game" (40). Frederick

Douglass and Booker T. Washington, both former slaves, corroborate Faulkner's statement in

their autobiographies. On the wearing of a shirt as a garment by slave children, Douglass writes

of a plantation windmill operator: "The old man always seemed pleased when he saw a troop of

darkey little urchins, with their tow-linen shirts fluttering in the breeze, approaching to view and

admire the whirling winds of his wondrous machine" (72). Washington notes that until he “had

grown to be quite a youth this single garment was all that [he] wore” (11). He also confirms the

hiding of plantation silverware during the Civil War: "In the fear of `Yankee' invasions, the

silverware and other valuables were taken from the `big house,' buried in the woods, and guarded

by trusted slaves" (15).



                                                 III

       Faulkner's later book Go Down, Moses broadens the involvement of African Americans

in his fiction in a refreshingly realistic manner. He presents abundant evidence of this in his

depiction of their families. To his credit, he neither glorifies nor impatiently dismisses the unit,

but faithfully recounts its weaknesses and strengths. The embarrassment of incest and forced

miscegenation accompanying the genesis of many African American families is unflinchingly

presented in Lucius Quintus McCaslin's using of his mulatto daughter, Tomey. The African

American single parent is broached in the form of Carothers Edmond's former mistress, who has
                                                  7
to raise her octoroon son all by herself. The impact of the broken family unit is delineated

through Samuel Worsham Beauchamp. His father abandons him when the boy's mother dies in

childbirth, leaving his grandmother to raise him—an all too familiar pattern in African American

families. Eventually, young Beauchamp is executed in Illinois for the murder of a White

policeman. In portraying these features, however, Faulkner, to his credit, never stoops to present

them as norms in the African American family.

         In fact, his description counteracts stereotypical perception of the unit. Lucas

Beauchamp, for all his deviousness and cupidity for finding "gold", is a strong African American

father figure. As a strong-willed, self-respecting African American, he changes his name from

Lucius Quintus Carothers McCaslin Beauchamp, one that honored his incestuous forbear, to

Lucas, "making it," Faulkner says, "no longer the white man's but his own, by himself composed,

himself progenitive and nominate, by himself ancestored." Furthermore, Lucas values his

hearth’s sanctity so much that when he suspects Zachary Edmonds has molested his wife Molly

while nursing the White man's motherless infant, he throws all subordination and caution to the

wind, avenging the "transgression" by fighting Edmonds.

         Faulkner deftly rounds out Lucas’s characterization in another instance. He notes the

character’s stubbornness when Molly feels driven to divorce him, but he also indicates Lucas’s

readiness to repent when he sees the havoc his obsessive gold-seeking is wreaking on his home.

Thus, Lucas gives his wife a nickel's worth of candy to seal his repudiation of his acquisitiveness

and the divorce bill, telling her softly, "Here...you ain't got no teeth left but you can still gum it"

(125).

         A singular evidence of the Beauchamp household's strength, though, is seen in their son

Henry’s reaction to adversity from a peer. Young Roth Edmonds, having arrived at the divisive
                                                   8
age of Southern maturity, refuses to associate with the Beauchamps, although Molly had been

his surrogate mother, nursing him as an infant. Later repentant, embarrassed, and floundering in

a sea of emotions over his new perception and shoddy behavior, he returns to the Beauchamp

hearth. He notices that Henry Beauchamp, now forever ostracized by the South’s racial code,

does not eat with him. Faulkner perceptively reports the key interchange between the boys:

“`Are you ashamed to eat when I eat?' he cried. Henry paused, turning his head a little to speak

in the voice slow and without heat: ` I ain't shamed of nobody,' he said peacefully. `Not even

me'” (110). That Henry escaped such a momentous crisis unscathed by bitterness, vengeance,

and self-hatred is testimony to the stability of the Beauchamp home.

       Perhaps Faulkner's most telling blows against the familial stereotype is seen in

"Pantaloon in Black." Of "Pantaloon in Black," Blotner writes: "[Faulkner's] story showed a

very different perception of the inner lives of Black people from that in the portrayal of Caspey

and Simon Strother a dozen years earlier in Sartoris" (415). In the story, a sheriff's deputy is

castigating Ryder, the hero, for his alleged inhumane behavior. Ryder's young wife has died,

and at the funeral he is so "unfeeling" that he himself shovels her coffin into the earth. Instead of

taking a day off from work, he labors, indeed performing superhuman feats of strength. He even

has the “audacity” to desecrate his wife's memory by engaging in a cheap card game, which

results in his own demise by a lynch mob.

       Considering the "facts" in his bigoted manner, the deputy symbolizes the prejudicial

White attitude towards the African American family. According to him, its members are not

human. “They look like a man and they walk on their hind legs like a man, and they can talk and

you can understand them and you think they are understanding you, at least now and then. But

when it comes to the normal human feelings and sentiments of human beings, they might just as
                                                 9
well be a—herd of wild buffaloes (150, 151). However, his prejudices blind him to the fact that

Ryder's action denotes neither insensitivity nor brutishness—only tender human feeling,

especially in such a behemoth of a man. Ryder acts recklessly because he wishes to die; he

cannot stand the pain of separation from his beloved wife, who, in just six months of marriage,

had swept away the defenses of his rough heart and entwined herself into his very soul.

       Because the deputy opts to remain in his cocoon of ignorance, he cannot see that Ryder’s

grief is as intense and natural as any White person in his situation. What the young widower

really wants is to join his bride in death, somehow continuing their oneness there. It is therefore

not surprising that the couple’s love is seen as a model of commitment. Mary Jane Dickerson

points out that in “the novel as a whole, only Ryder's relationship with Mannie in "Pantaloon in

Black" appears to escape [the] blight on relationships between men and women” (422).

       All of this is not say that Go Down, Moses is free from stereotypical characterizations.

Chief among these is Faulkner's tendency to gloss over history in his eagerness to portray

Southern slaveholders and sharecroppers positively. "Was," for instance, narrates a slave’s

escape to marry his sweetheart, herself a slave on a neighboring plantation. He is hunted down

with dogs, but when they find him, they frolic around him, happily licking him, instead of

mauling him as the historical data show in such cases. Moreover, he is not bitter toward his

master who has "found" him; he helps him in a card-game!

       With all of its beautifully crafted sub-themes of correlative hunts, the tale is a side-

splitting comedy. However, the laughter is uneasy at best, and one that African Americans find

hard to share. They know that Faulkner’s fantasies of the South’s benevolence and its

slaveholders’ conscientiousness is just that—fantasy! The runaway slave’s situation was never

so comic. Just as inaccurate is Faulkner’s treatment of Lucas and Zachary's duel. After Lucas,
                                                 10
an African American, has attempted to kill Zachary, a White man, Zachary is displayed as doing

nothing to wreak vengeance. Thus Faulkner glosses over what the incident would certainly have

incurred: terrible retribution or death.



                                                    IV

        For all his flaws in depicting African Americans and in analyzing racism, Faulkner is to

be commended, not least of all for his bravery, as a White man, for discussing such concepts so

forthrightly in the pre-1950’s South. He was a literary trailblazer; he afforded his African

American characters a scope and intelligent discussion unparalleled by contemporaries like

Fitzgerald and Hemingway. In fact, not many White authors of our own time match his coverage

of African American characters; the closest to him is perhaps another Southerner, William

Styron. Struggling against the prejudices produced by a lifetime of living in the South, Faulkner

created works of fiction which underscore the worth of all races and which have enlightened us

all about our own prejudices.

        He would perhaps be the first, though, to acknowledge his failures in characterizing

African Americans. Blotner remarks that "even towards the end of his life Faulkner would tell

of the difficulty of understanding Negroes' thought and feelings, compelled as they had been to

develop patterns of concealment from white people" (415). The important thing is that the

Mississippian, great-grandson of a slaveholder, tried to portray them honestly—and not without

success.

        Although, in Williamson’s evaluation, Faulkner cannot be termed a liberal, he bravely

criticized his native region “for its failure to rise to its potential, for its rape of the land, this

Southern Garden of Eden, and the license it gave to the practice of inhumanity by man to man
                                                     11
(270). If African American students, or students of any race, were to overlook these features in

Faulkner’s evolution, refusing to read his fiction, they would be depriving themselves of insights

that tell us all what we are.




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                                    Works Cited

Baldwin, James. Nobody Knows My Name: More Notes of a Native Son. 1961. New York: Dell

       Publishing Co, Inc., 1964.

Blotner, Joseph. Faulkner: A Biography. one volume edition. New York: Vintage Books, 1991.

Dickerson, Mary Jane. "Women in `Go Down, Moses.'" Women's Studies 22 (1993): 417-427.

Douglass, Frederick. My Bondage and My Freedom. 1855. New York: Dover Publications, Inc.,

       1969.

Faulkner, William. Flags in the Dust. Originally published as Sartoris. 1929. New York:

       Vintage Books, 1974.

---. Go Down, Moses. 1942. New York: Vintage International, 1990.

Sundquist, Eric J. Faulkner: The House Divided. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press,

       1983.

Volpe, Edmond L. A Reader's Guide to William Faulkner. New York: Octagon Books, 1981.

Waggoner, Hyatt H. William Faulkner: From Jefferson to the World. Lexington, KY: The

       University of Kentucky Press, 1959.

Washington, Booker T. Up From Slavery. 1901. New York: Grammercy Books, 1993.

Williamson, Joel. A Rage for Order: African-American/White Relations in the American South

       Since Emancipation. New York: Oxford UP, 1986.




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