Introduction

The families presented in Flannery O’Connor’s “A Good Man Is Hard to Find” and William Faulkner’s “Barn Burning” share more than a few similarities. They are Southern in a certain sense of the word, in that they reflect a poor, uneducated type of twentieth century Southerner. Then, they are both strangely tribal in nature, and even primitive; their relations with each other are rooted in rough expectations, blunt actions, and very little in the way of articulate communication. The most obvious connection, however, is one of a kind of desperation. This is most evident in Faulkner’s Snopes family, but it can be detected in O’Connor’s family as well.

Both families are collections of victims, and both draw sympathy from the reader for different reasons. Ultimately, however, O’Connor’s family generates the greater sympathy. This is not because of what they actually face in the story, but because there is more of a dimension to their humanity. They are ordinary and not very agreeable, but they are recognizable as people; the Snopes of William Faulkner are reduced to something near the status of animals, and only the boy who escapes is fleshed out as a real character, worthy of sympathy.

Contrasts of the Stories

In “A Good Man Is Hard to Find”, Flannery O’Connor sets out for the reader a family most people can easily identify with, if not find especially attractive. A trip to Florida is about to be undertaken and the grandmother, vocal and demanding, resists it. This is meaningless; it is understood, and early, that this family of her only son is accustomed to her complaints and lofty opinions. Central to the story, the grandmother is nevertheless not a powerful figure, certainly not within the family. She is a nuisance who is put up with because there is no other way, and even her grandchildren are comfortable in talking back to her.

On the road, the grandmother delivers opinions and concerns in a stereotypical, annoying way: “In my time,” said the grandmother, folding her thin veined fingers, “children were more respectful of their native states and their parents and everything else. People did right then” (O’Connor 368). Her great concern is that an escaped convict will be encountered, as her stupefaction is extreme when this actually occurs. Even, however, as the convict and his two companions systematically murder the family members, there is a bizarre, ongoing ordinariness to the family’s behavior. The children make insulting comments to the gang, oblivious of the danger. Incomprehension seems to grip Bailey, the son, as well as his wife. The grandmother has made the huge mistake of identifying the escaped convict, sealing the fate of the family, yet only she actually addresses the situation for what it is. Her son, perhaps in shock, complies with the criminals and takes his son into the woods to be killed; the mother actually thanks the lead convict when it is her turn, also seemingly too dazed to react any other way. The grandmother pleads, but she too is murdered.

Aside from the grandmother’s response, it is as though the ordinariness of the family contributes to their violent end. They do not create much sympathy as characters before the violence occurs because they are so typical and unappealing. However, as the brutality comes to them, the reader cannot helped but be moved. They are deserving of sympathy not because of any qualities within them, but because the horror of their deaths is too extreme. Their “crime” is merely being plain and ordinary, and they do not deserve such an end.

Conversely, the Snopes family from “Barn Burning” might be seen as an alien race, in comparison to O’Connor’s dull family. This serves to present a stark contrast within the story, for the young son, deeply conflicted by his ties to his harsh father and his inability to accept what the man does as retribution, is the only character given any real dimension. Even Snopes himself is presented as too unrelenting and mean to generate sympathy, even though a painful history is indicated.

This is essentially what marks the families as greatly different from one another, in fact. The grandmother in O’Connor’s story, as loud as she is, is powerless, and the family around her can manifest individual personalities, even if they are very typical. Snopes, on the other hand, rules his family so absolutely that they have no identities. Throughout “Barn Burning”, the Snopes women are always present, but are rarely anything but hulking, working shadows. His wife, the aunt, and the daughters are reduced to an animal-like state; they follow him, make the meals, and obey his orders. It is likely that they could generate sympathy or interest if they were presented even slightly more humanely. As the story is written, however, they are barely real. There is not even the dimension of suffering to make them compelling, even though the reader is aware that their lives are miserable.

Only the boy becomes sympathetic, as he is the pivotal element in the story. Outraged by what his father continually does, he is nonetheless fiercely loyal to the man, even as he escapes him. This single character, however, has such impact simply because he is so removed from the rest of the Snopes family, and the family itself must be seen independently of him.

Conclusion

In comparing these two stories, two factors tempt the reader to feel sympathy in a way that reflects on the whole families within them. With Faulkner, the hardness of the father is so strong that the reader wants badly to sympathize with the entire family under his control; with O’Connor, the violent deaths of the family make the reader want to be more drawn to them. Ultimately, however, only O’Connor’s family seems to deserve sympathy. They are ordinary and unpleasant, but they are still people; Faulkner’s Snopes family is, with possibly two exceptions, made up of characters with no dimension at all, and only the boy who escapes is fleshed out as a real character, worthy of sympathy.