Proposed Yoknapedia Entry: “Democracy”

I have noticed a chain of seemingly democratic decisions made by the characters in The Unvanquished. This includes John Sartoris’ election to military commander and his subsequent demotion, the local election which he hijacks in order to cut off the spread of Northern influence, and the support of Bayard killing Mr. Redmond in a duel to avenge him. John Sartoris is often involved in these instances of “democracy” and with John’s function as representative of traditional Southern ideals and values, along with the often skewed and sensationalized decisions that result from said instances, shows that “democracy” in Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha County is tailored to fit these traditional Southern ideals, and so not necessarily representative of the rule of the people. It is the ones with power who champion this form of democracy, as it fits the ideals and values that they are proponents of. This form of democracy works to keep the traditions and accommodate those in power. 

Faulkner, William. The Unvanquished. New York, Vintage International, 1991.

The Unvanquished will be the primary source for this entry, as I will discuss how it portrays a unique version of democracy which is based in traditional Southern ideals and only seems to benefit those who champion those Southern ideals the most. I will analyze the hints that Bayard gives to the earlier event of John’s election to commander and his subsequent demotion, both a result of a democratic process. I will mainly focus on the hijacking of the election by John and that version of the democratic process which occurred as the main example of “democracy.” I will also consider the interaction of George Wyatt and Bayard as he prepared to face Mr. Redmond, as George represents the old Southern consensus of how that situation should be handled. These three are instances of the “democracy” of Yoknapatawpha and its adherence to old traditions. 

Goldman, Arnold. “Faulkner’s Images of the Past: From ‘Sartoris’ to ‘The Unvanquished.’” The Yearbook of English Studies, vol. 8, 1978, pp. 109–24. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/3506768. Accessed 2 May 2023.

Goldman analyzes several of Faulkner’s works, some of which we have read in this course, to trace the “inhibition of time, change, and process” (123) present in them. He starts with an analysis of Sartoris which I have picked up from the library but have yet to read, and which may very well be useful to this entry. Much of the context of what Goldman details is lost on me until then, so I plan to revisit that when I have a better understanding of the text. His section on The Unvanquished identifies the ‘descent’ of John much like Haynie does, and acknowledges the popular opinion of the older characters that Bayard should have taken revenge and shot Redmond. I think the above quote will function well as a sort of definition for democracy in my entry, as it effectively sums up the motivations of those who perpetuate that particular version of it in Yoknapatawpha. 

Haynie, Shirley M. “THEMATIC CODE VARIATIONS IN WILLIAM FAULKNER’S ‘THE UNVANQUISHED.’” Interpretations, vol. 16, no. 1, 1985, pp. 116–23. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/43797853. Accessed 2 May 2023.

Haynie identifies “variations on the perpetuation, destruction, or revision of some type of code” (116) in The Unvanquished, and characterizes it as a “conflict between tradition and anti tradition… between law and expediency” (116). She argues that the characters like Colonel Sartoris, Granny, Drusilla, and Ab Snopes adhere to or break the code of Southern tradition and meet their demise because of it. Bayard is excluded from this group because he is cognizant enough to act in ways that allows him to both adhere to or break the code where necessary, and still benefit from it. He is exempt because of his flexibility. Haynie’s analysis of Colonel Sartoris, while brief, offers a valuable analysis of his strict adherence to southern chivalric ideals during the war which presented him as a hero during the war, and as a “near-villain” (118) during reconstruction. I plan to relate this analysis with his involvement in “democracy” as while the version of it that he promotes during the war is in service of the Southern cause, and thus heroic in the eyes of the people, the version of it he promotes during Reconstruction is considerably more violent, contributes to a dysfunctional cycle and hinders progress. I also value her analysis of Bayard’s interaction with George Wyatt, as George represents the old southern values and John’s form of democracy, and so his disposition provides an example of the attitudes and persistence of that form. 

Pryse, Marjorie. “Miniaturizing Yoknapatawpha: ‘The Unvanquished’ as Faulkner’s Theory of Realism.” The Mississippi Quarterly, vol. 33, no. 3, 1980, pp. 343–54. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/26475035. Accessed 2 May 2023.

Pryse argues that in The Unvanquished, Faulkner begins the novel with a miniaturized focus of events that reflects Bayard’s own perspective of events as they happen around him. Bayard’s point of view is so narrow because of his age and lack of experience, and so the novel reflects this with its portrayal of events. As Bayard grows, Faulkner proceeds to magnify the focus until it more closely resembles realism, as by that point the characters have better awareness of the world. I value her analysis of “Skirmish at Sartoris” and her idea of Faulkner’s miniaturization of Southern ideals into the image of the ballot box. I plan to incorporate her analysis of it, and use it to show that the receptacle of democracy, which contents are unknown to the reader, is taken by John and his men in order to impose their ideals on it, as they use it as a source of legitimization of the election, but ultimately assign their own reality to it, as it is said that its contents all contained votes of “no” when that is likely untrue. The ballot box is the miniaturizing of Southern ideals in that moment as well as a symbol of democracy. 

Sharpe, Peter. “Bonds That Shackle: Memory, Violence, and Freedom in ‘The Unvanquished.’” Faulkner Journal, vol. 20, no. 1/2, 2004, pp. 85–110. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/24908254. Accessed 2 May 2023.

Sharpe argues that in The Unvanquished Bayard creates a new Southern consciousness in his refusal to avenge his father in the traditional way that challenges and ultimately dispels the rigidity of the heritage that came before him. I am fond of his analysis of the interaction between Bayard and George Wyatt, who I believe represents the old Southern ideals of “democracy” and am intrigued by his identification of Wyatt and John’s old unit as a “Greek ‘chorus’” (85) which I think perfectly describes just how this version of democracy functions, as a group of few people who speak collectively and have significance to the ‘play’ of events that occur. 

Yonke, Jean Mullin. “Faulkner’s Civil War Women.” Faulkner Journal, vol. 5, no. 2, 1990, pp. 39–62. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/24907680. Accessed 2 May 2023.

Yonke’s section on “Lost Cause Mythology” identifies a pattern of aggrandizement perpetuated by Southern writers regarding the Civil War. She notes the particular focus on the Cavalry officer as the knight-like hero, which brings to mind how young Bayard views his father. Particularly relevant to The Unvanquished is her point that “Post War poverty and Reconstruction experience encouraged Southerners to look backward and create a glorious past in both the antebellum and the war years; within two generations the grim realities of war had been transformed into a romantic myth of the lost cause” (41). Her analysis of this mythology is useful in identifying a mindset that motivated John Sartoris and the others in their implementation of their version of democracy. Yonke states that “For Southerners the Civil War was the event that destroyed antebellum society and its virtues” (42). This helps better establish a reason for which such a form of democracy was practiced, and explains the violent rejection of the McCaslin’s, as they were seen as the destruction of that traditional society and those traditional values, thus requiring the form of democracy in which they often implemented to preserve them. 

Mere paragraphs into Chapter 8 of Absalom! Absalom! Faulkner offers this perplexing description of Quentin that while brief, is heavy with significance, especially considering how abruptly it appears: “Quentin (the Southerner, whose blood ran quick to cool, more supple to compensate for violent changes of temperature perhaps, perhaps merely nearer the surface)” (Faulkner 235). The structure of the description is perhaps most striking, as Faulkner places it in parenthesis. This functions as a sort of clarification, as is the description is meant to answer some sort of inquiry or distinguish Quentin in some clarifying way. He is with Shreve, who is a Northerner, and so perhaps this is the reason for distinction, but why does Faulkner do this in this moment, and why does he not give Shreve a similar description? The distinction is made about Quentin, and it is using a description that not only acts as a fitting description for Quentin the person, but for Quentin the Jeffersonian. Faulkner begins the parenthetical description with “the Southerner” which distinguishes him geographically and culturally. He is a southerner, and so he is not only geographically displaced from Shreve and Harvard, but also culturally, as his Southern experiences and values are alien to the Northern intellectual complex that Shreve represents. Faulkner then further describes a characteristic of not just Quentin, but given its placement, possibly of a Southerner as well, as he follows up with “whose blood ran quick to cool.” This is reminiscent of the idiom “blood ran cold” meaning a sudden sense of fear or shock. It also brings to mind the idea of someone being referred to “hot-blooded” if they are prone to sudden outbursts. Some mixture of the two ideas seems to be going on here, as Faulkner may be saying that Quentin’s blood, or metaphorically, his internal disposition, functions to shock itself away from rising emotions. What we know of Quentin from Absalom! Absalom! and The Sound and the Fury is that he is ruled by his emotions, and that often takes him to places of mental fixation and anguish. Yet Quentin is also capable of normative function and present intellectual capacity. Perhaps Faulkner is saying that this is a result of not only his self-control, but also that that self-control is a core component of his Southern identity. “Violent changes of temperature” also recalls Quentin’s manic streams of thought, though Faulkner is not definitive on this as he follows that with “perhaps.” He offers another possibility with “perhaps merely nearer the surface” which suggests that while Quentin’s cool blood acts to suppress his hysteria from surfacing often enough, his struggles are still present deep down. This is obviously the case in TSAF, as those inner struggles are revealed over the course of his section, and ultimately his blood fails to cool them. Perhaps at his end, Quentin failed in his Southern-ness, maybe because he was too displaced from it, and his blood failed in its function of running quick to cool, but here I believe Faulkner has made this distinction because Quentin, while obviously being effected by the story that has been entrusted to him, still is the Jeffersonian, and so is still in possession of that southern identity. Faulkner wants to inform the reader through this simple line that Quentin is still Southern, but bringing attention to it is meant to show that it is something that must be addressed, because it has been disrupted enough that it can no longer be taken for granted.

For my final project, I will be writing a traditional research paper that will suggest that the materialism and misogyny displayed by Jason Compson in The Sound and the Fury is a result of the loss of the traditional southern identity and fall of the influence of the plantation owner caused by Northern influence during Reconstruction. The imposing of the North on the South has caused Jason, head of the family but perpetually dissatisfied, to construct a bleak persona of masculinity and a nihilistic outlook, as a last-ditch effort to hold on to what was lost in this challenge of identity. This multi-generational constructed psyche is the result of the unchallenged power of the Southern plantation owner suddenly experiencing a power shift and culture shock that Reconstruction brought upon. Through Jason’s example, this challenge to this deeply-ingrained identify has created a disposition that literarily has endured to modern day, as culminated in such examples as Bret Easton Ellis’ American Psycho. Is this a mere reflection of Faulkner’s understanding of the reality of his time, or was he attempting to illustrate a broader issue of internalized feelings created and embedded by that change that will continue to create figures like Jason Compson (such as Ellis’ Patrick Bateman)?

Preliminary Bibliography:

Weinreich, Martin. “‘Into the Void’: The Hyperrealism of Simulation in Bret Easton Ellis’s ‘American Psycho.’” Amerikastudien / American Studies, vol. 49, no. 1, 2004, pp. 65–78. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41157912. Accessed 18 Apr. 2023.

BRASSETT, JAMES, and LENA RETHEL. “Sexy Money: The Hetero-Normative Politics of Global Finance.” Review of International Studies, vol. 41, no. 3, 2015, pp. 429–49. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/24564338. Accessed 18 Apr. 2023.

GRESSET, MICHEL. “Psychological Aspects of Evil in ‘The Sound and the Fury.’” The Mississippi Quarterly, vol. 19, no. 3, 1966, pp. 143–53. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/26473552. Accessed 18 Apr. 2023.

Hitt, Ralph E. “COMPSON — ANTI-COMPSON: HUMOR IN THE CHARACTERIZATION OF JASON COMPSON IV.” Interpretations, vol. 16, no. 1, 1985, pp. 124–34. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/43797854. Accessed 18 Apr. 2023.

Hagopian, John V. “NIHILISM IN FAULKNER’S ‘THE SOUND AND THE FURY.’” Modern Fiction Studies, vol. 13, no. 1, 1967, pp. 45–55. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/26278646. Accessed 18 Apr. 2023.

MOORE, CASEY C. “We’re Not Through Yet: The Patrick Bateman Debate.” The Comparatist, vol. 36, 2012, pp. 226–47. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/26237305. Accessed 18 Apr. 2023.

Newhouse, Wade. “‘Aghast and Uplifted’: William Faulkner and the Absence of History.” Faulkner Journal, vol. 21, no. 1/2, 2005, pp. 145–65. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/24908231. Accessed 18 Apr. 2023.

Faulkner, William. The Sound and the Fury. New York, Vintage International, 1991

Ellis, Bret Easton. American Psycho. Vintage, 2010.

After Armstid drops off Lena at Varner’s Store on her way to Jefferson, she has a brief interaction with Jody Varner in which he informs her that Lucas is likely not at the planning mill, and has been mistaken for a man with a similar sounding name. However, she persists on, and it is not clear in this instance if she is delusional or merely trying to convince herself. She has hope, even if the internal source of this hope is not certain. It is difficult for the reader to understand why she is continuing in such a state with little information to go on, but there is at least some sort of motivation apparent on her part (besides the obvious motivation of wanting to reunite with the father of her child) as she believes that “a family ought to be together when a chap comes. Specially the first one. I reckon the Lord will see to that” (Faulkner 21). Lena has her religious belief to drive her, which is seemingly her last source of hope, as in her vulnerable situation given her circumstances of being a woman pregnant outside of wedlock and the child’s father being absent, she is subject to contempt and rejection from her family. This is a significant commentary on Faulkner’s part, as a young vulnerable girl cannot depend on the support of her those close to her, and must take off on her own, where she receives the support of strangers, and only due to pity. While Lena is representative of the vulnerable figure that her religion teaches are closest to God, the reality of her situation is that she needs to find tangible support as the situation grows evermore dire as the baby’s birth nears. In having Lena struggle through this ordeal, especially considering her enduring, even aloof, disposition, Faulkner demonstrates the failing of cultural and social mindsets on women. Full responsibility for the pregnancy is placed on the woman, and her existence is seen as tainted, leading to awful treatment. With little options, Lena set out on her own to chase a slim chance, robbing the action of significant agency as it was prompted by her situation. Once she is away from that, she is still subject to judgment, though it is veiled with kindness and pity, as shown in the conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Armstid (21-22).

Returning to her interaction with Varner, his thoughts on her demonstrate the disposition which prompted her ordeal, “I would have done the same as her brother; the father would have done the same. She has no mother because fatherhood hates with love and pride, but motherhood with hate loves and cohabits” (26). He confirms that he would have treated her the same way had he been her father or brother. His cultural identity is confirmed despite his tolerance towards Lena. The next sentence presents an interesting idea and is even more intriguing due to its syntax. He personifies fatherhood, acknowledging that it is capable of hate, but seems to suggest that love and pride is the way in which hatred manifests in fatherhood. This is his attempt at explaining the cultural attitude towards a girl in Lena’s situation. It is because of the love and pride that a father holds for his child, which are both strong emotions, that he is able to manifest the equally strong emotion of hatred towards them. The father is so invested in those two emotions, that when something disrupts it, the feelings are corrupted. He does not continue the same syntax for motherhood, as motherhood is not directly personified, and “hate” is used as a noun instead of a verb. The reason for this change may suggest that motherhood is incapable of the direct action of hatred, but motherhood itself can still contain hatred. This highlights a belief in a distinction between men and women, and their individual parental institutions. Motherhood is attributed the verb “loves” and is said to “cohabit.” This gives a much different understanding motherhood compared to fatherhood and constructs an image of a bond or connectedness. Perhaps it refers to the deeper connection of mother and child because of the child beginning life as a part of the mother. Therefore, motherhood will always have the connection to the child that makes it incapable of the action of hate, but it can still contain hatred. In this way Varner shows the belief in significant dispositional differences between men and women, and is perhaps why he thinks what he thinks, but then treats her how he does. He does not have the personal stake in her situation, and so grants her pity, because he is aware of what she has gone through, and what she will go through as her role as a mother begins.

Faulkner presents Rosa Millard, or Granny, as the motherly presence for the Sartoris family and the clear matriarch, especially in John’s absence. Yet her character is more complex than simply that, as her charitable nature is somewhat obscured by underlying power dynamics. Rosa is the de facto head of a land-holding, slave-owning family after all, and so the implications of this may play a role in how she is viewed as a character by the reader. This does often play a factor in her charity and in her displays of concern for others, as her identity informs just how she approaches certain instances of charity and empathy. In her eulogy, Brother Fortinbride tells those assembled of said qualities: “And I reckon that God has already seen to it that there are men women and children, black white yellow or red, waiting for her to tend and worry over” (Faulkner 158). His words invoke God, associating her with the divine, and functions to emphasize her indiscriminate care for others. But besides Fortinbride’s attempt to construct (as most eulogies tend to do) a post-mortem idea of Rosa, how true does his statement hold, considering what Faulkner has shown of her?  It is difficult to question Rosa’s caring nature, especially considering she has given away much of the profits of her scam (138). But even here, providing charity, she still operates in a position of power, as she acts as a sort of judge, cataloguing her charity, attempting to control how it is used. This is not the only instance of her providing charity from a position of power, as the situation is similar when she comes across the free woman and her baby whilst traveling in the carriage. She is empathetic towards the woman, however the power dynamic is clear. Not only is it clear visually, as Rosa is perched up on the carriage and the woman standing on the ground, but also through dialogue. Rosa asks her, “‘Who do you belong to?’” (84). This immediately sets a tone for the interaction, as Rosa has categorized the woman as property and not a person. She proceeds to act with care and empathy, giving the woman a ride on the carriage and food to eat, but not without imploring her to return to her life of bondage. This is where the complexity of Rosa Millard is most apparent. She acts with compassion, yet also as a slave-owner. There are these contradictions within her character, which makes it difficult to distinguish her as one or the other. She is both, which creates this grey-space that obscures the reader’s ability to construct a definitive image of her. She is not unlike her son-in-law John who is similarly inscrutable. This demonstrates a true capturing of human complexities and contradictions on Faulkner’s part and may even inspire philosophical ponderings concerning this idea of the slave-owner’s ability to possess morality.

The introduction of John Sartoris presents the reader with a figure in which just as much can be learned about through what is not said as with what is said. John is a dichotomy. He is comprised of contradiction, of said and unsaid, of appearance vs reality. The readers early interaction with John through the experience of Bayard is filled with inscrutability that leaves the reader with just as many questions as answers. On a character-level, this portrayal of John is Faulkner’s way of exploring the idea of the complexity of humanity, both for an adult and for a child. On a thematic-level, Faulkner uses this to establish groundwork for a larger struggle of perception vs. reality.

Bayard’s first description of his father illustrates his dichotomy through both what is said about him, and what is not said but alluded to: “He was not big; it was just the things he did, that we knew he was doing, had been doing in Virginia and Tennessee, that made him seem big to us” (Faulkner 9). His is described as not physically big, but appears that way because of his actions, or at least Bayard’s perception of his actions. The said here contradicts the unsaid, as the only tangible aspect of John that the reader has to work with is his lack of stature, yet is then told that his stature is the opposite of lacking, because of actions that they are told have happened but they did not experience through Bayard’s eyes. This idea itself is a further contradiction, because it is implied by Loosh and possibly confirmed by Bayard that John is not “doing” anything is Tennessee (6). Faulkner is demonstrating here the idea that humans are complex, and full of contradictions, as John is perceived as big despite no outward indication of it and knowledge implying that the actions that contribute to this perception are invented. John even makes no attempt to encourage nor discourage the perception, as he often responds to questions pertaining to it with vague interjections (10-11). Faulkner is also demonstrating the complexity and contradictory nature of how a child can view a parent. It seems that Bayard is aware of the contradictions of how he perceives his father, as he remarks on, “the illusion of height and size which he wore for us at least” (10). Not only is the contradiction of how he perceives John’s stature acknowledged, but there is also an awareness of the disingenuous and performative aspect of it. This is best illustrated when Bayard makes note of John’s attire (11), as John is wearing Union colored pants under his Confederate uniform. Ignoring the practical, likely necessary reason for this, it achieves a physical representation of a metaphor. John’s contradiction is represented by his opposing attire, and Bayard is cognizant of this, yet often rejects this awareness in favor of an idealized version of him, such as in his daydream while they build the pen (12-13). It is youthful innocence and stubbornness on Bayard’s part that fuels this perception of John, and thus functions to help the reader achieve better awareness of the dichotomies of the character and the overall struggle that is being subtly established here: perception vs. reality. This struggle will continue to be developed, especially through Bayard’s dreams, but it is in his disposition towards his father where the reader is first helped become attuned to it.