While there is no sympathy for his crimes or perspective, it becomes apparent that John McLendon, too, is a victim of his circumstances, ensnared in roles he cannot or will not escape. He serves as a stark example of what not to become. McLendon, hailed as a war hero with a history of commanding troops in France, is a prominent figure in Jefferson, celebrated for his wartime exploits and decisive actions. Although his current occupation is not explicitly mentioned, it seems inconsequential, given that he is exclusively defined by his heroic past. Residing in Jefferson with his wife, McLendon outwardly projects an image of valour, yet behind closed doors, he engages in both verbal and physical abuse towards his spouse, exemplifying the underlying hypocrisy explored in "Dry September".
The narrative unfolds as McLendon abruptly enters a barber shop, driven by the mission to recruit men for a retaliatory action against Will Mayes, who may or may not have wronged Minnie Cooper. In contrast to suggestions from others, such as Henry Hawkshaw, advocating fact-finding and legal recourse, McLendon challenges their status as white men responsible for maintaining the existing social order. Ignoring these calls for caution, McLendon assembles an enraged mob, armed with the gun concealed in his waistband, and proceeds to abduct Mayes, leading him to an isolated location with the intent of taking his life.
McLendon is the story's most conspicuous antagonist. He assumes the role of a vigilante. His possession of a gun, hat, handcuffs, and military command experience lends him an overall aura of authority. McLendon orchestrates an operation resembling a mock trial and sentencing, essentially reenacting war. Initiating the recruitment of his troops in a barber shop, he wages a war against Will, ostensibly for the honour of white women in Jefferson. McLendon, likely a seasoned murderer, demonstrates a methodical and practised approach to executing his sinister plan. His demeanour is chilling, impervious to reason, and dedicated to instilling fear in the black citizens of Jefferson.
Despite these reprehensible qualities, the concluding imagery of McLendon "panting" and "pressed against the dusty screen" somehow humanises him. He emerges as a bully, a desolate individual in a fractured world, one who inflicts harm on those around him.
McLendon's propensity for violence leads him to warp reality, transforming a mere rumour into a narrative that serves as an outlet for his aggression while simultaneously providing a veneer of legitimacy. Rather than accepting the Will Mayes rumour at face value, McLendon amplifies it to the extent of branding the man as a rapist. This distortion is orchestrated by the ex-soldier, with the active participation of those around him, notably Butch and another patron of the barber shop, who, like McLendon, appear to be particularly affected by the oppressive heat.
Even those initially harbouring doubts about Will Mayes's guilt eventually succumb to conviction. The murderers become ensnared in the web of deception they collectively weave, as it allows them to satisfy an inner and communal craving for violence. The pervasive dust that permeates the atmosphere during the murder and ultimately envelops McLendon's car at the story's conclusion symbolically suggests the clouding of the killer's clarity regarding objective reality. At times, the dust takes on a cosmic dimension, as exemplified by the statement: "The dust... hung for a while, but soon the eternal dust absorbed it again".
Except for Hawkshaw, none of the white community members in Jefferson oppose or condemn the murder of Will Mayes, despite widespread scepticism regarding the truthfulness of the rumour leading to his demise. This conduct can be elucidated by considering Sigmund Freud's insights in "Dostoevsky and Parricide". Freud contends that Dostoevsky's sympathy for the criminal surpasses mere pity, approaching a kind of "holy awe". This phenomenon may stem from the idea that every community harbours an inherent level of violence that requires an outlet. When the criminal carries out the deed that others secretly desired, they assume the community's guilt, becoming both scapegoat and redeemer.
In "Dry September", however, the dynamics differ. McLendon effectively articulates a collective thirst for violence, but it is the victim who becomes the scapegoat, while the murderer transforms into a hero through the distortion he orchestrates and the community endorses. Consequently, since the criminal is neither found guilty nor condemned, there is no redemption for anyone involved in the tragic events.
René Girard's theory of the scapegoat mechanism further problematises this dynamic. In Violence and the Sacred (1972), Girard argues that communities experiencing internal tensions can redirect collective violence towards a designated victim, whose persecution temporarily restores a sense of unity and social order. In "Dry September", Will Mayes becomes precisely such a sacrificial victim: the unverified accusation against him allows the white men of Jefferson to transform diffuse racial and social anxieties into a single target. McLendon is therefore not simply an isolated perpetrator; he becomes the organiser and symbolic representative of a violence that the community tacitly permits.
Yet Faulkner complicates Girard's model because the killing does not ultimately restore harmony. The violence merely reproduces itself, extending from the racialised victim into McLendon's domestic life, where he violently attacks his wife. The ending therefore suggests that violence cannot be contained within a single scapegoat: once legitimised as a means of maintaining social order, it returns to the community that produced it.
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