Barn Burning

"Barn Burning" by William Faulkner is a short story that delves into the moral dilemna of Sarty Snope, a ten year old boy faced with conflicting loyalties between his psychologically controlling father and his preconceived notions of truth and justice. Abner Snope likes to burn barns, no, he has to burn barns in order to fill an undefined need and gain revenge on the rest of the world. The author chooses not to counter his malevolent nature with any redeeming qualities in order to keep him as the unquestioned villian. After every barn, Abner drags his family to another predetermined location, forcing them to start their lives over until he does it again. The story does not focus on Abner, however, but on his son and his feelings towards his fathers actions. 

The story starts in a courtroom, with Abner on trial for setting fire to the barn and Sarty crouching in the corner. Even though his heart lies with his father, his head takes over in this moment and he almost reveals his father's secret. While Abner was officially exculpated, he was unofficially told to get out of town and not to come back. Because of this impunity from any actual punishment, he once again is not held accountable for his actions and is effectively allowed to get away with it. 

After this, Sarty and his father have a conversation about the fact that Sarty was willing to tell the judge what Abner had done. His father slaps him, but cooly and without emotion, as if slapping a mule. He tells Sarty that, "You got to learn to stick to your own blood or you ain't going to have any blood to stick to you,"a quote that proves its meaning towards the end. This is when Sarty's true problem comes to light, his inner struggle between a convenient lie and the truth, between his blood and his sense of justice. Throughout the story, he alternates between obsequious obediance and short bursts of rebelliousness, too young and too conflicted to pick a side. What doesn't change, however, are his unmeasurable feelings of grief and despair that span the entire story. 

I would like to pause in my retelling of the story and discuss how this universal theme still applies today. When society and your family are at odds, there is no simple answer, no happy ending. Either way, the person is left barren and bereft, lacking something that they so badly need. The bonds between family members cannot even be described, and cannot be broken even with the most horrific of actions. We have been raised to protect our families; to care for them and keep them out of harms way no matter what the cost. So what do you do when you know your family is wrong, when you know that the you will either ostracize yourself or your family? I don't have an answer for this question.

Sarty and Abner pay a visit to Major de Spain, a wealthy man who Abner had signed up to work for for eight months. Abner purposely steps in horse manure, then proceeds to drag it along a one hundred dollar rug. After he is asked to clean it, he destroys the rug out of pure spite then refuses to pay for it. During this time, Sarty's loyalty rests with his father, a decision that I believed foreshadowed future events. However, even at ten years old, Sarty is able to make the distinction between ruining a rug and burning down a barn, and is willing to side with his father during a relatively minor offense. 

Abner makes the decision to burn down de Spain's barn, and he asks Sarty to get the oil. Sarty brings it, but then runs to warn de Spain that the destruction is imminent. Major de Spain shoots and kills Abner. 

Sarty runs away, horrified and devestated over what he has done. He sacrificed his blood for the truth, and now finds himself alone. The right decision came with horrific consequences, and morality only served to kill his father. The world is not black and white; bad things happen to good people every single day and there is no easy answer. Sarty did the 'right' thing, preventing a crime from being commited, but is now left to navigate the world on his own. Faulkner leaves the reader with the image of the sole moral character walking away. 

I Am Sam

About a month ago, I watched the movie I Am Sam in psych class. For those of you who have never seen it, I'll explain it briefly. Sam (played by Sean Penn) is a man with moderate mental retardation who has been diagnosed as having the intelligence of a seven year old. The problem comes when his daughter Lucy (Dakota Fanning), turns eight and surpasses him in maturity. After an incident at her eighth birthday party, Lucy is taken away from him and placed in a foster home and Sam has to fight the system to get her back. 

One of the most groundbreaking aspects of this movie is the accurate representation of Sam's disorder, and how the director resisted the urge to glamorize his character. It would have been very easy to leave Sam as a simple minded lilliputian, or to give him the same rare savant qualities as Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man. He does not have the forgetful resilience commonly associated with mental deficiences, but instead holds on to his love for his daughter and suffers greatly when she is taken away from him. Because of this, his plight arouses sympathy from all children and parents who cannot imagine being seperated. 

Even though most people are initially inclined to side with the justice system and what is perceived to be the safety of the child, after the first half hour viewers begin to see the court's intrusions as noisome and hurtful. The system took a happy and functional family of two and split them apart, piqueing sympathy from everyone. What is seen as first to be a necessary intrusion into their lives is later seen to be a vendetta against those less intelligent. One of the main points this movie makes is that it doesn't take an erudite sort of knowledge to raise a child, but only a loving and receptive personality. Even if he doesn't have all of the right resources, Sam's love for Lucy is evident at all times. 

Since this is one of those rare movies that is intent on making a statement for all of the mentally deficient, it is actually an informative movie to watch. Sean Penn does a terrific job at portraying Sam, and remains committed to his character. 

My License

So yesterday, I accomplished quite a herculean feat. Against all odds and public opinion, I somehow managed to pass my driving test and get my license. Finally, I have won my freedom; the freedom to aimlessly roam around the state, subject only to my own predilections. I am no longer a prisoner of my parent's subjugation but an autonomous adult, able to make my own decisions and my own plans. I spent yesterday wandering from house to house, enjoying the august feeling that comes from being a neophyte driver. I watched their younger eyes glaze over me, transfixed with the idea that someone just a little older can drive them around. 

There are a few small hurdles in my grand plans. The first one is the fact that I do not have a car. Since I will never be allowed to touch the precious Subaru, this leaves me with the lovely Bertha (also nicknamed Landshark, Roxy, or Big Mama). Bertha is a five year old Toyota minivan, and she is every teenager's dream (ha). Serving only to take me down a notch, driving her is like driving a truck, and parking her is even more fun. However, I do not mean to make jejune complaints, because I am grateful for the fact that I have a car to drive in.  

There is a slightly larger problem to my dream of finally having acheived freedom. Think of it as a slight foible in my character. I really am not a great driver. This is hard for me to admit, but I feel I must be ingenuous before anyone gets into Bertha with me. I used to be utterly careless, adding twenty to every speed limit and frequently cutting other drivers off. However, since my mother got in an accident over the summer, I am much more cautious but still no better. I'm impatient; unable to tolerate red lights or stop signs for long periods of time. It effects my life negatively in various ways, but it has never been more evident than when I am driving. 

So for now, until I improve, I am resigned to reconnoiter only nearby towns, unable to venture onto highways. This is not a deterant as much as a roadblock; merely redirecting me to other destinations. The fact that I have a license at all is still a shock to me, and I'm still getting used to the idea that I no longer have to walk. And I end this blog here to joyride with Bertha, because I have a feeling it will never get old.