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William Faulkner's "The Fire and the Hearth," compiled in Go Down, Moses (1942), is a story of excavation.1 The novella is set in Mississippi around 1940 and describes the story of Lucas Beauchamp who is a descendant both from the McCaslins' progenitor and a slave. In the opening scene, Lucas unexpectedly finds a gold coin buried beneath the Indian mound when he tries to hide a distillation apparatus for illegally distilled spirits. He is abruptly struck by the memory of the old event that he had a one-on-one confrontation with his former master Zack Edmonds who cuckolded his wife. Also, Lucas embarks on digging for gold coins by a "dividing machine" (79). Over the last twenty or so years, many critics have thrown light on "southern racial relations" and have focused on the question whether Lucas could resist the racial oppression or not (Zender 119). Little attention has been given, however, to the motif of excavation. Although John T. Matthews attaches importance to Lucas' excavation as "a formal expression of his sense of loss and desire to claim family riches" (236), he does not take into account the archaeological tendency at the time of Faulkner's writing. There are several reasons for us to read "The Fire and the Hearth" in view of the contemporary archaeology. For one thing, Faulkner himself was on friendly terms with Calvin Brown, an archaeologist of Mississippi, and in 1938 received Brown's book titled Archeology of Mississippi (1926) (Greenwood 263). What is more, as I have already mentioned, it is in an Indian mound that Faulkner sets the place where Lucas finds the gold coin. To understand the significance of the Indian mound, let us examine the following scene where Lucas come to the Indian mound. The white people called it an Indian mound. One day five or six years ago a group of white men, including two women, most of them wearing spectacles and all wearing khaki clothes which had patently lain folded on a store shelf twenty-four hours ago, came with picks and shovels and jars and phials of insect repellant and spent a day digging about it while most of the people, men women and children, came at some time during the day and looked quietly on; later--within the next two or three days, in fact--he [Lucas] was to remember with almost horrified amazement the cold and contemptuous curiosity with which he himself had watched them. (37)Here, Lucas watched a group of white men and women digging the Indian mound five or six years before 1940, around which year the story is set. The 1930s were called "the Golden Age of Archaeology"2 since Franklin Roosevelt administration promoted the excavation of the Indian mound, river basins, and so on as a part of the New Deal relief projects. Thus it is readily apparent that the group Lucas watched was involved in the New Deal excavation. Furthermore, bearing in mind that Lucas was to remember "the cold and contemptuous curiosity" with which he watched the white people's excavation "with almost horrified amazement." If drawing on the textual and contextual analogy between the description of Lucas' digging and Faulkner's immersion into archaeology, we may assume that some reaction to the contemporary archaeology underlies "The Fire and the Hearth." The purpose of the paper is to investigate how the text responds to the contemporary archaeology. Archaeology is an academic field where archaeologists create the model of the past and help to strengthen the collective identity of the present people (Blakey 38-39). In the United States, the development of archaeology worked together with nostalgia of white citizens who were disillusioned with materialistic society since the latter half of the nineteenth century. At the turn of the century, whites tried to reaffirm "lost rootedness" (Deloria 99) by temporarily imitating the premodern Indian life or the frontier past. Moreover, the organization for youth development such as "Woodcraft Indians" and "Sons of Daniel Boone" got popular. In the 1920s and 30s, Indian arts were highly valued, and the traditional life of Indians was widely acclaimed as an ideal one by white writers.3 In the South, the nostalgic atmosphere was also dominant and the Southern people escaped from the real life into an idealized past. Southern whites, having gone through the defeat of the Civil War and the rapid social change since then, tended to escape into "imaginary pasts" (Hale 43) and idealized the Old South as "the Happy-Happy Land" (Cash 130) How then is the Southern archaeology related to the nostalgia that swept all over the nation in the 1930s? Here as a clue, I would like to introduce Mississippi: WPA Guide to the Magnolia State (1938, from now on I will call it Mississippi) which was published in 1938, just about two years before Faulkner wrote "The Fire and the Hearth," and curiously enough, the same year as he obtained The Archaeology of Mississippi. The guidebook was edited by Federal Writers' Project, promoted by the New Deal administration to save writers who were out of their jobs owing to the Great Depression (McElvaine vii). The first and foremost reason why I choose Mississppi among many of archaeological accounts is that it summarizes the aspects of Mississippian archaeological coevality with "The Fire and the Hearth." The second is that the book is a description of the postbellum South while it is a part of a national project. Hence, Mississippi presumably includes both the National and the Southern nostalgia. Indeed, a chapter "Archeology and Indians" uncritically praises the archaeologists for bringing "the life of the primitive Indian to light" (46), which tells us that the Southern archaeologists shared the nationwide nostalgia toward the past. Furthermore, the article concludes that "the State is rich in aboriginal remains" in spite of a "lack of evidence" (45). Judging from the fact that the contemporary archaeologists were inclined to make up archaeological finds to satisfy the public nostalgia (Meltzer 13-16), we could assume from the rhetoric of the "Archeology and Indian" that the archaeology in the South also complemented the lack of evidence with nostalgic desire of the public. In this way, archaeology and nostalgia complemented each other. Besides, in the "Archaeology and Indians," the "mound" is specified as the place which archaeological finds are buried beneath and thus rouses nostalgia (45). All of this amounts to saying that the archaeology of the South was in conspiracy with the nostalgic atmosphere, especially at the Indian mound as a nodical locus. Faulkner borrowed the historical descriptions from the guidebook and used them in his work (McHaney 117). Moreover, the archaeologists in Mississippi and Lucas Beauchamp in "The Fire and the Hearth" overlap in the act of digging the Indian mound. Thus, it is meaningful to read the two texts in terms of intertexuality. In the next section, I will discuss that "The Fire and the Hearth" at first endorses and then unravels complementary relationship between archaeology and nostalgia shown in Mississippi. I have argued so far that the archaeologists' act of digging in Mississippi was supported by the nostalgia of whites. How about the excavation of Lucas? The story opens with the episode that Lucas goes to the Indian mound; the whole mound stoops at him and "a single coin" made of "gold" is brought to his palm (38). Lucas identifies the coin as "one penny of the money which old Buck and Buddy buried almost a hundred years ago" (39-40). There is no proof in the text, however, that the find is actually a gold coin from Buck and Buddy, namely, Lucas' ancestors of white blood (Greenwood 269). So we may presume that it is Lucas' nostalgia that links the coin to his own ancestors. But why did he feel that way? To answer the question, we should pay attention to the fact that Lucas considers Buck and Buddy as people "who had been alive when their father, Carothers McCaslin, got the land from the Indians back in the old time when men black and white were men" (37). Lucas here idealizes the time of old Cass in association with masculinity and feels nostalgic about Buck and Buddy for the reason that they were alive when old Cass was alive. Lucas even identifies himself with "the oldest McCaslin descendant" (36) and is proud of it. He had kept with great care the old coins "some of which dates back almost to Carothers McCaslin's time" in "a small metal dispatch box" inherited from old Cass himself. In other words, Lucas projects the imagined tie with old Cass onto the old coin. Therefore, it is Lucas' nostalgia for his white ancestors that made him relate the coin to their legacy. Lucas' attitude as such reminds us of the archaeologists in Mississippi who fills the lack of evidence with whites' nostalgia in identifying finds. But for present purpose, it will be suffice to point out that, for Lucas, the old coins have symbolic value rather than economic one, allowing him to feel the bond with his white ancestors. If the object of excavation has symbolic value, what does the act of digging mean for Lucas? Right before he starts digging the mound, the idea flashes into his mind to make George Wilkins, a black tenant of the McCaslins, help with his excavation. Yet Lucas immediately denies the idea because he himself is "the oldest living McCaslin descendant still living on the hereditary land" and does not need to share the hereditary riches with George, "an interloper without forbears and sprung from nowhere" (39-40). Here Lucas excludes George from the act of digging owing to his not being a member of the McCaslins. At this moment, Lucas defines the digging as the "symbolic act" of tracing the white roots, only permitted to the people with the McCaslins' blood. In this way, after finding symbolic value in the gold coin, Lucas enters on the symbolic act of excavation to trace his white roots. What accentuates a symbolic aspect of his excavation, as we have already seen, is Lucas' nostalgia for his white ancestors. Here we can recognize the similarity between Lucas and the archaeologists in Mississippi; just as archaeologists dig up the Indian mound to satisfy whites' nostalgia, Lucas is motivated to mine the mound by his nostalgia for his white ancestors. At this stage, Lucas appears to reflect the archaeologists in Mississippi. What needs to be emphasized here, however, is that the nature of Lucas' excavation changes. The revolving point of Lucas' digging lies in his recollection; after discovering the gold coin, he remembers the past when he confronted his master Zack Edmonds. The recollection originates from his nostalgia for his white ancestors, because right before recalling the past he thinks that not only Zack but also he himself has old Cass' blood (45). Lucas indeed succeeds in identifying himself with old Cass at first (53). But since the incident is concerned with a racial feud that his black wife is cuckolded by his white master, the inferior status of Lucas as a black gradually stands out in relief. His recollection finally reaches the culmination where he cries, "I aint got any fine big McCaslin farm to give up. All I got to give up is McCaslin blood that rightfully aint even mine. . . " (55-56). He also says after the recalling: "How to God . . . can a black man ask a white man to please not to lay down with his black wife?" (57-58). Here Lucas is forced to realize against his will that he is a dispossessed black man. It follows that by reminiscence, Lucas' racial identity as a white is disturbed by, to quote Matthews, a black "sense of loss" (231). What needs to be emphasized here, however, is that the nature of Lucas' excavation changes. The revolving point of Lucas' digging lies in his recollection; after discovering the gold coin, he remembers the past when he confronted his master Zack Edmonds. The recollection originates from his nostalgia for his white ancestors, because right before recalling the past he thinks that not only Zack but also he himself has old Cass' blood (45). Lucas indeed succeeds in identifying himself with old Cass at first (53). But since the incident is concerned with a racial feud that his black wife is cuckolded by his white master, the inferior status of Lucas as a black gradually stands out in relief. His recollection finally reaches the culmination where he cries, "I aint got any fine big McCaslin farm to give up. All I got to give up is McCaslin blood that rightfully aint even mine. . . " (55-56). He also says after the recalling: "How to God . . . can a black man ask a white man to please not to lay down with his black wife?" (57-58). Here Lucas is forced to realize against his will that he is a dispossessed black man. It follows that by reminiscence, Lucas' racial identity as a white is disturbed by, to quote Matthews, a black "sense of loss" (231). It is Lucas' displacement of racial identity that changes the nature of his digging. Facing up with the reality of being a descendant of a black slave, Lucas is no longer permitted to feel nostalgia for his white forefathers as before. In other words, the motivation of his excavation is brought to a standstill. Thus, his excavation inevitably loses the symbolic meaning of tracing his white lineage. I will explain in the following paragraphs how his excavation actually changes. After looking back on his past, Lucas stops associating the buried money with his white forefathers. He begins to regard it as property so that he can "go halves" in it even with the salesman of the dividing machine who has no relation with the McCaslins (79). Moreover, he considers the machine as "efficient and businesslike" (79), and repeatedly mentions the past episode that two white men dug up "twenty-two thousand dollars" and ran away (78). These instances show that, for Lucas, old coins cease to represent the tie with his ancestors and gradually take on the economic value. Hence, his excavation shifts from the symbolic act of tracing white ancestry to the physical one of searching for money. As Matthews interprets that the theft of two white men "repeat Lucas' racial dispossession" (226), the intensification of Lucas' economic desire might be deeply related to his consciousness as a dispossessed black. It is noteworthy that Lucas shifts the site of digging from the Indian mound to the orchard, claiming that some of the money is buried in the orchard (89). The mound is, as we have already argued, the place where Lucas associates with his ancestors and feels nostalgia. The orchard, on the other hand, is probably where Zack's wife is buried (46), and is not the place Lucas feels nostalgia for. Hence the shift in the digging site most likely means that the motivation of his excavation diverges from nostalgia. Along with the displacement of the digging site, the find also deviates; what Lucas digs out of the orchard is not gold but silver coins. If he still felt nostalgia for his white ancestors and thought the coin as a symbol of his tie with them, he should be disappointed with the outcome. The fact is, however, that he does not care about whether it is gold or silver and is even relieved to have dug up at least some amount of money, saying that "I done found this much of it, anyhow" (91). Lucas' attitude as such proves that he does not feel nostalgia any more and is now more interested in the economic gain of the buried money. In this way, the mining of Lucas diverts from the symbolic act of tracing the white roots to the physical one of hunting for money. Let us now go back to the opening scene where Lucas comes to the Indian mound and remembers watching a group of white people digging there. As his disgust for the group implies, his black lineage gets him diverge from Archaeologists in Mississippi who have complementary relationship with white public's nostalgia. Indeed, Lucas is originally motivated by his nostalgia as a white to excavate the mound. But after his white identity is pervaded by his consciousness as a dispossessed black consciousness, he loses interest in tracing his white lineage and begins to focus on the economic advantage of digging. Given the plot that Lucas resumes the digging of the Indian mound, we should not hastily conclude that his excavation breaks up with nostalgia completely. Yet, to say the least of it, his digging entails his bitter recognition as a socially inferior black, which forms a sharp contrast with contemporary archaeologists in Mississippi who consistently satisfy whites' desire to escape reality. Therefore, we can now re-excavate "The Fire and the Hearth" as a groundbreaking literary text which takes a step forward to digging up the Southern reality shadowed by a racial conflict. This is an expanded and revised version of the paper read under the title of " 'The Fire and the Hearth'--The Motif of digging--" at The 50th Convention of the Kyushu American Literature Society at Seinan Gakuin University held in May 9th, 2004. 1. In 1941, Faulkner revised "Gold Is Not Always" (1940) and "A Point of Law," and changing the title to "The Fire and the Hearth." See Greenwood 268; Matthews 230. 2.I quote the expression "The Golden Age of Archaeology" from "A Brief History of WPA Archaeology" (1979) written by George I. Quinby (Fagette 19, 172). For a discussion of archaeological survey during the New Deal period, see 19-96. 3.See Delpar 9; Dippie 281-305; Smith 9. That whites felt nostalgia for the past does not mean they actually wanted to go back to the premodern society. "Antimodern primitivism" was based on the modern life, and formed "two sides of the same coin" with "modernism" (Deloria 102).
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