Helena Suess, Fateful Entropy: Faulkner’s “Mountain Victory”
In “Mountain
Victory,” Faulkner locates Gothic and Romantic tropes in a narrative of
historical tragedy, in the process dismantling generic constraints on
subjectivity to produce a story that submits history as omnipotent and violent
repetition. As much of the story’s tension depends on insufficient knowledge in
a world of upheaval, to some extent “Victory” negotiates epistemological and
ideological crises such as described at length in my first essay. However, these
crises are in “Victory” not ends but means. The story’s bleak resolution turns
not on Americanistic individual agency however qualified or undermined but, like
a Greek tragedy, on the impotence of the individual against inevitable fate.
“Victory” takes
place some months after the end of the Civil War, and the racial and class
conflicts of the period are foregrounded as the terms of “Victory’s” tropic
Gothicism. Faulkner’s language (“dark and smoldering and violent and childlike
vanity, 750; “eyes, momentary and phantomlike,” 746) conjures an atmosphere of
eerie otherworldliness. But it is the racialized Byronic protagonist Confederate
Major Saucier Weddel, mutilated but heroic with his one arm and “dark face … at
once thick yet gaunt, and arrogant” (747), who most overtly evokes historicized
Gothicism. The men of the poor, Union-serving Tennessee family with whom Weddel
lodges, with his slave Jubal on his way home to his Mississippi plantation, take
issue both with Weddel’s rebel uniform and with his dark skin. Explaining
himself, Weddel tries to level the social problematics. He asserts he is not
Negro but part Chickasaw; moreover he is, as a defeated Southern aristocrat,
likely as destitute now as the family. Weddel’s state of decay as both
Southerner and Indian points to the multiplied Gothicism of a national stage in
which all inhabitants, original and conqueror, have fallen into a deteriorated
state.[1] The story’s tropic Gothicism depends not only on race but on
the family’s socioeconomic status. Rural mountaineers, they live amidst decay:
their cabin—their home and familiar space—is slowly crumbling, “the clay
chinking … fallen away in places” (748). The cracks in the wall are large enough
to see through, to admit the penetrating gaze of the outsider. Through the
cracks the Gothic trope of influence from “outside” is further transmitted
through the lens of gender: a daughter, named in the text only as “the girl,” is
banished to the kitchen built against the outer wall of the cabin and sees from
outside in. In doing so the girl, in such a fallen state as a woman that she
lacks even shoes, recognizes not danger but beauty and nobility in the newer
outsider Weddel. The isolated girl identifies with Weddel’s otherness and her
resultant love’s potential for marriage offers her an option to overcome her
isolation through social means: to align with the nobler sociological decay of
Weddel’s aristocracy, thus to possibly effect a Romantic narrative arc toward
love’s transcendence over origins. But the relationship between the girl and
Weddel is wholly one-sided, and his response to her shuts down any potential for
transcendent love. The girl is as much a stranger to Weddel as he to her, but
she is ironically uninteresting to him in her strangeness. It is Weddel who “had
not caught” the girl’s name, though her father speaks it twice, and Weddel
persists in his disinterest when her younger brother Hule comes to him as her
advocate. Between Weddel and the girl Faulkner stages an ironic collapse of
typical Romantic male/female subject/object relations. The beloved does not even
admit the lover’s name to enter his subjectivity, does not even deign to grant
objecthood to the lover who as the woman should be, in Romantic fiction, herself
loved as an object at least. Racial subject/object relations are likewise unstable
throughout “Victory.” Weddel’s racial identity hangs in limbo for much of the
story, and is never completely resolved. Hule worries that his sister is in love
with a black man even after Weddel has explained his ancestry. Already
uncertain, racial subjectivity is further undermined by comments made by Jubal.
The slave himself, though dehumanized as “a large monkey” (746) and
caricaturized according to his physical urges, seems to assert some pretence to
authority over his master (“I done been fo years trying to take care of you en
git you back home,” 752). Moreover Jubal has substantial indirect power over
Weddel’s actions. When the slave becomes too drunk to ride away from the hostile
family even in the face of mortal threat, the master’s sympathy induces a delay
until next morning that seals the dooms of all. In “Victory” Faulkner not only reworks Romantic/Gothic tropes
and ideological subjectivity in the context of universal decay. He also departs
entirely from traditional Romantic/Gothic narrative in which the hero passes
through ordeal to achieve some form of transcendence. The elder boy Vatch has
violent nightmares of victorious battles over the rebel army (Hule explains as
reason for Vatch’s hatred of Weddel “he can still here you uns yelling … at
night,” 767). Vatch’s inability to let go of past violence signifies the
inevitable recurrence of violence, by extension the persistence and permanence
of violence as history. Vatch’s hatred toward Weddel as a representative of the
violent past causes the destruction of not only the past’s losers, the Southern
strangers Jubal and Weddel, but the victors, the Yankee family, themselves. Though Hule’s request that Weddel take him and his sister to
Mississippi is declined, Weddel accepts his offer to lead them down the
mountain. Overnight Vatch and his father have staged an ambush in one of three
possible locations that Weddel might pass: a laurel copse, the shrubs along a
path into the woods, or the house, should Weddel change his mind and return for
the girl. In a dizzying sequence in which every screen may hide an enemy, Hule
tries to use Jubal as a decoy to save Weddel’s life. In the confusion of bodies
and space all three—Weddel, Hule, and Jubal—are shot and killed by the father
and Vatch. This moment, Faulkner states early in the story, is from the first
meeting of rebel and Yankee “forever irreconcilable and already doomed” (750).
Even if Weddel might escape racial hatred, he cannot escape the war attenuated
through the hatred of its victor for the vanquished. The sublime does not exist in this story. The final possible
romanticism—the forest scene, starkly described according to places of possible
concealment—is not a site of psychological conflict or ideological transcendence
but a mere killing ground in which “the war [that] is over” (770) claims three
more victims. Taken as a whole, “Victory” describes a state of universal decay
in which the individual, that hero of American Romanticism, is as a type
disintegrated. Its journey is a wasted effort, its desires however mean (“All I
want is to go home,” 768) impossible, its destruction ordained by history. With
the individual thematically and textually dead, “Victory” likewise dissolves
Romantic/Gothic potential as such, robbing it of agency and telos, enslaving
hero and narrative together to forces beyond control. Work
Cited Faulkner, William. “Mountain Victory.” Collected Stories of William Faulkner. New York: Vintage, 1995. 745-77.
[1]
Though it is difficult in “Victory” to verify any individual’s given
information, Weddel’s description of his heritage can be assumed as
accurate with respect to his author’s corpus. Weddel alludes to the
events of Faulkner’s story “Lo!” in which his grandfather Francis
Weddel, a Chickasaw chief, sought the President’s judgment on a murder
over land rights and received the land on which Weddel’s plantation was
built.
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