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We Have Always Lived in the Castle
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Jackson, Shirley - We Have Always Lived in the Castle - Informal Buddy Read-revisit; Starts January 10, 2015; March 6, 2017
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Finished:
(view spoiler)

Part of me wishes that there was a little epilogue. (view spoiler)

But ..."
An epilogue would've been interesting. Or even an epilogue where it's years later and the mansion is in ruins and someone tells what happened to them.

(view spoiler)

(view spoiler)


LOL, Ashley Marie, I think we might have. Or I'm sure similar conversations happen on GoodReads all over the place.
BUDDY READ REVISIT! BUDDY READ REVISIT! BUDDY READ REVISIT!
This topic is open for discussion of We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson
Book Synopsis:
Visitors call seldom at Blackwood House. Taking tea at the scene of a multiple poisoning, with a suspected murderess as one's host, is a perilous business. For a start, the talk tends to turn to arsenic. "It happened in this very room, and we still have our dinner in here every night," explains Uncle Julian, continually rehearsing the details of the fatal family meal. "My sister made these this morning," says Merricat, politely proffering a plate of rum cakes, fresh from the poisoner's kitchen. We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Shirley Jackson's 1962 novel, is full of a macabre and sinister humor, and Merricat herself, its amiable narrator, is one of the great unhinged heroines of literature. "What place would be better for us than this?" she asks, of the neat, secluded realm she shares with her uncle and with her beloved older sister, Constance. "Who wants us, outside? The world is full of terrible people." Merricat has developed an idiosyncratic system of rules and protective magic, burying talismanic objects beneath the family estate, nailing them to trees, ritually revisiting them. She has made "a powerful taut web which never loosened, but held fast to guard us" against the distrust and hostility of neighboring villagers.
Or so she believes. But at last the magic fails. A stranger arrives -- cousin Charles, with his eye on the Blackwood fortune. He disturbs the sisters' careful habits, installing himself at the head of the family table, unearthing Merricat's treasures, talking privately to Constance about "normal lives" and "boy friends." Unable to drive him away by either polite or occult means, Merricat adopts more desperate methods. The result is crisis and tragedy, the revelation of a terrible secret, the convergence of the villagers upon the house, and a spectacular unleashing of collective spite.
The sisters are propelled further into seclusion and solipsism, abandoning "time and the orderly pattern of our old days" in favor of an ever-narrowing circuit of ritual and shadow. They have themselves become talismans, to be alternately demonized and propitiated, darkly, with gifts. Jackson's novel emerges less as a study in eccentricity and more -- like some of her other fictions -- as a powerful critique of the anxious, ruthless processes involved in the maintenance of normality itself. "Poor strangers," says Merricat contentedly at last, studying trespassers from the darkness behind the barricaded Blackwood windows. "They have so much to be afraid of."
This topic is open for discussion of We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson





Book Synopsis:
Visitors call seldom at Blackwood House. Taking tea at the scene of a multiple poisoning, with a suspected murderess as one's host, is a perilous business. For a start, the talk tends to turn to arsenic. "It happened in this very room, and we still have our dinner in here every night," explains Uncle Julian, continually rehearsing the details of the fatal family meal. "My sister made these this morning," says Merricat, politely proffering a plate of rum cakes, fresh from the poisoner's kitchen. We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Shirley Jackson's 1962 novel, is full of a macabre and sinister humor, and Merricat herself, its amiable narrator, is one of the great unhinged heroines of literature. "What place would be better for us than this?" she asks, of the neat, secluded realm she shares with her uncle and with her beloved older sister, Constance. "Who wants us, outside? The world is full of terrible people." Merricat has developed an idiosyncratic system of rules and protective magic, burying talismanic objects beneath the family estate, nailing them to trees, ritually revisiting them. She has made "a powerful taut web which never loosened, but held fast to guard us" against the distrust and hostility of neighboring villagers.
Or so she believes. But at last the magic fails. A stranger arrives -- cousin Charles, with his eye on the Blackwood fortune. He disturbs the sisters' careful habits, installing himself at the head of the family table, unearthing Merricat's treasures, talking privately to Constance about "normal lives" and "boy friends." Unable to drive him away by either polite or occult means, Merricat adopts more desperate methods. The result is crisis and tragedy, the revelation of a terrible secret, the convergence of the villagers upon the house, and a spectacular unleashing of collective spite.
The sisters are propelled further into seclusion and solipsism, abandoning "time and the orderly pattern of our old days" in favor of an ever-narrowing circuit of ritual and shadow. They have themselves become talismans, to be alternately demonized and propitiated, darkly, with gifts. Jackson's novel emerges less as a study in eccentricity and more -- like some of her other fictions -- as a powerful critique of the anxious, ruthless processes involved in the maintenance of normality itself. "Poor strangers," says Merricat contentedly at last, studying trespassers from the darkness behind the barricaded Blackwood windows. "They have so much to be afraid of."



Fine by me.

There's definitely a feeling of mystery and otherness that's being slowly introduced here. I am curious about the timeline, because we keep being reminded that those library books are the last they ever get. So, conceivably Merricat has just visited the library, at the least—if not the village altogether, for the last time. Along with Uncle Julian continuously revisiting that last day with his tiny break from reality, we have a constant reminder of the finality of things...the last library books, the last day of their lives.
Constance is made to look too pure, or too good, I feel, as a deflection and we are meant to be led in the direction of her actual guilt, despite her acquittal. However, I think that's all deliberate and purposeful by Jackson, and perhaps Merricat was the culprit of the poisoning. Merricat seems stunted. She says she's 18, but he fanciful behavior and general thought processes seem to be more in line with someone much younger, possibly more with the Merricat from age twelve, when everyone in the house died.
There are some odd phrases that just fall with a loud thud and are then left alone. For instance: On Tuesdays and Fridays I went into the village, and on Thursday, which was my most powerful day, I went into the big attic and dressed in their clothes.
Odd, very odd.
All-in-all, I felt the story really gain some momentum with the clever way to revisit the night of the poisoning by having Uncle Julian retell his factual version to the nosy Mrs. Wright. Interesting to see where this is headed and to what conclusion we will be treated.

I agree that in the 1st chapter is some strong sense of termination, like something happened to them in that week. It's said that Merricat is checking the locks, patroling down the fence her father put up and burying things around property like some kind of talismans to protect them from some sort of impending danger. By the villagers maybe? They may go on some witch hunt, although I don't see the reason.
The story definitely kicks off in 2nd chapter where eager uncle Julian sheds some light on the fatal evening, but it seems they fabricated the story for public. Uncle Julian in one moment remembers the events on that night and in the next he is not sure anymore. Beside that he is writing a book with not entirely true facts of that night in want of sensation. At first I thought that Constance really must did it, becase she was recultant to step out of their family estate and that's why Merricat must go alone in the village for grocery. But I'm now more convinced that the real culprit for the poisoning was in fact Merricat, because she isn't allowed to cook or hold a knife, while officially acquited murderess prepares all the food. Wouldn't the two of them be affraid of being poisoned too?
To me Merricat also doesn't seem like a normal 18 year old. It sounds like maybe she has some kind of sitback in developmet or she is still traumatised. There is something very off about her.
This is definitely one whacky family. It has this eerie atmosphere and I really like it so far.

Merricat is treated almost like a pet—even down to the combination of her first and middle names...Mary Katherine=Merricat. She's commented "at", rather than really involved in the conversation, and even though she's 18, she doesn't help with Julian much or at all. She seems forgotten or an afterthought, especially when compared to the way Constance is fawned over. Constance dotes on her in little doses of a single sentence, "Silly Merricat," but she doesn't treat her like a fellow adult. I'm starting to wonder if this is to placate the psychotic Merricat, who is stuck in her younger state out of a psychosis, and not out of trauma or a developmental setback, though I think we are meant to believe just that in this part of the book. After all, if she is guilty of the murders, then her break from right and wrong, from reality and fiction, was before the murders, not because of them.
I think the most incriminating evidence against her isn't that she was merely 12 at the time of the familicide, but that she was alone in her room, which benefited her because she usually in trouble. Perhaps Constance cleaned the sugar bowl not because of a spider, but because she knew it to be Merricat's doing. Perhaps Merricat was at the table after all, and the part about her being in her room was an easy lie since she was often punished that way.
Yes, this seems like a very good beginning... okay, I'll come back after my three chapters (4-6) today....

I feel like this reads like an episode of The Twilight Zone, where I'm certain there are oddities and some strangeness that I can't quite single out yet, but I'm also afraid of being led purposefully in the wrong direction.
Clearly, to my mind, Cousin Charles is angling to marry his cousin, Constance. I'm surprised to learn that Constance is 28 to Merricat's 18. So, that would put her age, at the time of the deaths, at 22; thus, conceivably, her continual parental treatment towards Merricat could actually be a major factor in Merricat's stunted development, which I'm also leaning towards (as you said earlier). There's still something off about Merricat, beyond what is definitely a lack of developmental growth, and I still have her as my prime suspect for the murders. (Though, somewhere in the back of my mind, I like the idea of Uncle Julian being the culprit.) However, Constance isn't entirely wrong in her sudden realization that she has played a Miss Havisham and kept everything just as it was on that last day. She has stunted both Merricat's growth into adulthood (plus what little time the teenage years amounted to during that era), and Uncle Julian's ability to heal from the loss of nearly his entire family and his crippling physical effects from having also been poisoned.
Cousin Charles, as I'm sure he was written to be just this way, is an irritating character and I trust him about as far as Merricat could throw him. Though, I do feel for the fate of the mirrors in the house. Merricat's need to find magic, create talismans, and construct wards, as well as her desire to be on some mystical moon locale, is fascinating. It's hard to completely strike from my reader's mind that when this was written no one had yet been to the moon, and the space race had just really taken off and was running headlong and at full tilt towards that goal which would not be achieved until the end of that decade.


The arrival of cousin Charles evidently disturbs the rutine and peace of the house. Merricat perceives him as a ghost or evil presence. Charles takes over her house and duties in the village as also her fathers belongings. That unsettles her and with that her desire to get rid of him only grows. She is convinced that he barged in their secluded little world because the magic was broken.
I feel that Charles definitely has agenda and is not just friendly relative visiting. I was a bit recultant on idea that he would want to marry his cousin, but after his evident interest for money and valuable belongings I'm starting to think that there is something on it. After all if you look better Constance is now heiress (as a first child). If Charles gets Merricat and Julian out of picture, he has a clear path to get what he wants.
On that note it seems that only Merricat sees his true collors. As she doesn't respond kindly on his presence in the house, he soon starts to threten her on every occasion he gets.
Constance is the person who changes the most with his arrival. She starts to regret for not puting her uncle in the hospital and for leting Merricat run wild. I'm surprised that this never crossed her mind before cousins arrival. It just shows how big influence he has on her mind.
This is getting more and more buffling. I'm affraid that mirrors won't be the only thing to suffer ill faith.


Well I didn't expect that. It got even weirder. And to be honest I don't know even what to think about it.
The tension between Charles and Merricat escalates quickly. I guess she burns his room, because in same cultures the fire is perceived as cleansing. She so desperately wants to get rid of him she literaly takes all the measures. By destroying his belongings she thinks he would dissapear.
It seems to me that in this book house is the center of everything. When Charles comes in he brings the change that all of three residents are fending off, almost as they like to live in the past. Hence insisting to dine in the dining room, which Constance and Merricat close after the arsen and never step in ever again. It's almost as house was desrupted with the murders and cleansed with fire. After that girls live happy, at least that how it seems.
As far as uncle goes, apperently he thought all along that Merricat died in orphanage during her sister's trial, thats why he never calls for her or she isn't let in his room. Although I don't know what he thought when he saw a third person sitting next to him. Was she a ghost to him?
And there are three things that are buffling to me. What reason did the villagers have to get in a frenzy and destroy the house? I understand that they didn't feel comfortable meeting family members of murdered family, but you don't go around and destroy other persons property. At some point I thought they will kill them.
What was that talking from the parents "bow you head to our beloved Mary Katherine"?
And I would expect that they talked about murders between at least two of them. After all they fabricated the story of that evening , Constance took the blame although she didn't done it and Merricat played along. It's very odd that this issue was never discussed.

I'm still in the dark why Merricat killed her family, why villagers went savage and why Constance was afraid to step outside. It was literally like Merricat and Constance switched places outside the house.

Things escalated rather quickly in those last four chapters. I admit—I was rather surprised when Uncle Julian was declared dead, though I really did appreciate his immediate and loud dislike of Cousin Charles. The unraveling of that story was odd and felt a little pieced together, but that, along with the rapidity of the conclusion, was not uncommon during that era and before, and right in line with Shirley Jackson's work. I'm actually surprised the story continued at all to the lengthy finale we got: tablecloths become clothes and the village children play games right at the girls' front door and food offerings made on a regular basis.
The odd, "bow your head to our beloved Mary Katherine ... ," scene that played in Merricat's mind cannot actually be a true flashback or memory based solely on the way they treated her in it...unless.... My only two conclusions are that she was imagining it the way she wished it had been, or if it actually had played out that way, it would've been to placate the absolutely insane Merricat....I guess there's also the possibility that it was actually that way and she murdered the family for their poor treatment of her own beloved Constance, whom she spared, but I really don't think that is plausible.
I don't know that they ever did talk about it, aside from Uncle Julian's continual, repetitious ramblings about that last day. I could easily see Constance automatically doing it to protect Merricat. Without a second thought, she cleaned out the sugar bowl because she knew that's where the poison was and that Merricat had put it there. Merricat was carted off to an orphanage while Constance struggled to prove her innocence without implicating Merricat, though I seriously doubt that Constance would've been acquitted if Uncle Julian had not survived. I assume her agoraphobia developed from there. It must've been a traumatizing event, especially since she was innocent, and to return to the village would open herself up to harassment from the villagers. So, she stayed home, and that level of comfort closed in around her. Her symptoms of agoraphobia are most obvious and plain at the opening of the book, when Merricat returns and finds that Constance has made it farther than usual, to the end of the garden.
The madness of the mob was a theme explored in Jackson's other work, The Lottery. The mob mentality was actually a big theme of the day—exploring why people, who would otherwise not behave so viciously, are prone to easy attack and vitriol when part of a large crowd, fueled by anger or fear. I think that at first, once the fire was under control, the simple realization that they were suddenly on the private property of this snobby family (who had literally gotten away with murder) was more than they could digest at the time. They had been there to help, and then they suddenly realized that perhaps the Blackwoods hadn't deserved their help, perhaps they should've allowed the fire to take the Blackwoods. I think it further undercut the feeling of inferiority, and having lived without seeing anything other than the oddly stoic Merricat appearing twice a week in the village for food and books, the villagers had lost the feeling that the Blackwood girls were actual people instead of just the focus of the murder (this is especially evident with the teasing rhyme they've all learned to chant), and the Blackwood House had become something of a myth. Savagery is a good way to say it, and I agree that it's hard to make sense of, but I think they tore down the house and stripped away the myth and mystery. Once the house was battered and the mystery ripped away (for now they are able to come right up to the house and yard), and the bright light of morning cleared their heads, they could see them again as girls (and now girls without Uncle Julian), so they brought their apologies in the form of food. In addition to the food supplying them with apologies, I think it also served to keep the girls from needing to come to the village for food, and it actually built the mystery back up surrounding the girls and the house. They taught it to their children, and they instilled them with the necessary fear to leave the Blackwood women alone except for the food. Because, if they really wanted to apologize, they would've brought supplies to repair the house. They would've shown up in droves to make repairs and replace the irrecoverable. However, the food was a nice mirror to that weird imagined interaction from Merricat's head: Our beloved, our dearest Mary Katherine must be guarded and cherished. Thomas, give your sister your dinner; she would like more to eat.

Well, I think that was a good book to do my first Buddy Read. You have been the perfect "buddy" and I enjoyed this a lot.


Thanks, Karen. It was a very interesting read, to say the least.

Well, I think that was ..."
Well, couisin Charles exited the story as quickly as he entered it and I am quite glad of that. I was a bit surprised that Constance didn't blame or resent Merricat for killing their parents (and a brother). Besides Julian's sparing remarks about his brother we don't get to know what kind of people they were.
I liked the ending, the way sisters and the house became almost a legend. The offerings at the door were convenient, because I believe the sisters would rather starve then go again in the village. To be honest it was quite a nice touch.
This was my first Shirley Jackson's book and apparently I should've read other books first. Just my luck :-)
Thank you for joining me, it was nice to share thoughts and thank you for puting up with my broken english.

Thank you. So what did you think about the book?

I liked how the author writes the story in such a way that the reader feels sympathetic to the sisters although they had almost certainly committed a terrible crime.
Merricat as others have mentioned seems much younger than her eighteen year, she seems stuck as the twelve year old she was at the time of her family's murders and Constance encourages this talking to Merricat as if she were a child rather than another adult.
Personally I think Merricat poisoned the family and Constance then protected Merricat probably more than just protected her. In the story it mentioned Constance delayed calling for help at the time of the poisoning. I feel Constance was certainly not unhappy at the death of her family and may have even have manipulated/encouraged the obviously disturbed Merricat to put poison in the sugar bowl.
Merricat appeared to be happy living in this enclosed world with Constance, however as the story unfolded although she was agoraphobic Constance was the one who started to think about living a life beyond the walls of the house.
There are so many themes running through this book. Food its preparation, storage etc seemed almost ritualistic. The Magical or supernatural talismans Merricat invokes to keep herself and Constance safe. Isolation from society and its effects ( it appears the family were already fairly isolated or apart from the village even before the tragic events of their deaths. The mob mentality of the villagers at the time of the fire and then their subsequent almost sacrificial offerings of food they made to the sisters This part of the story reminds me a little of Jacksons story


No, no need to thank me. The English words you mistyped were easy to decipher (phonetics), and let's face it...it was infinitely better than my Slovene/Slovenian, of which I can utter not a single word, much less read or write in it. So, thank you for your English, it was beautiful and perfect.
Karen wrote: "I really enjoyed the book. I think Jackson very cleverly built up the story only revealing a little at a time of the tragic events that under pin this story."
I agree; I think the pacing was handled brilliantly; Jackson's best structure being, in my opinion, the short story or novella form. I liked your comment on the societal effects of isolation—good neither for individuals or countries (heh-hem, Ancient China). I agree that they clearly had isolated themselves and tucked themselves away from the people of the village before the events of the murder, showboating their feelings of superiority, thus isolating themselves even more as the villagers met such affected aristocratic attitudes with disdain and dislike. I'm glad you joined in with us to discuss this book, no matter that it was after we had finished.
I like small groups and large discussions and this was a nice fit. Happy reading, you two!
Books mentioned in this topic
The Lottery (other topics)The Lottery (other topics)
We Have Always Lived in the Castle (other topics)
The Lottery (other topics)
We Have Always Lived in the Castle (other topics)
Authors mentioned in this topic
Shirley Jackson (other topics)Shirley Jackson (other topics)
Book Synopsis:
Visitors call seldom at Blackwood House. Taking tea at the scene of a multiple poisoning, with a suspected murderess as one's host, is a perilous business. For a start, the talk tends to turn to arsenic. "It happened in this very room, and we still have our dinner in here every night," explains Uncle Julian, continually rehearsing the details of the fatal family meal. "My sister made these this morning," says Merricat, politely proffering a plate of rum cakes, fresh from the poisoner's kitchen. We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Shirley Jackson's 1962 novel, is full of a macabre and sinister humor, and Merricat herself, its amiable narrator, is one of the great unhinged heroines of literature. "What place would be better for us than this?" she asks, of the neat, secluded realm she shares with her uncle and with her beloved older sister, Constance. "Who wants us, outside? The world is full of terrible people." Merricat has developed an idiosyncratic system of rules and protective magic, burying talismanic objects beneath the family estate, nailing them to trees, ritually revisiting them. She has made "a powerful taut web which never loosened, but held fast to guard us" against the distrust and hostility of neighboring villagers.
Or so she believes. But at last the magic fails. A stranger arrives -- cousin Charles, with his eye on the Blackwood fortune. He disturbs the sisters' careful habits, installing himself at the head of the family table, unearthing Merricat's treasures, talking privately to Constance about "normal lives" and "boy friends." Unable to drive him away by either polite or occult means, Merricat adopts more desperate methods. The result is crisis and tragedy, the revelation of a terrible secret, the convergence of the villagers upon the house, and a spectacular unleashing of collective spite.
The sisters are propelled further into seclusion and solipsism, abandoning "time and the orderly pattern of our old days" in favor of an ever-narrowing circuit of ritual and shadow. They have themselves become talismans, to be alternately demonized and propitiated, darkly, with gifts. Jackson's novel emerges less as a study in eccentricity and more -- like some of her other fictions -- as a powerful critique of the anxious, ruthless processes involved in the maintenance of normality itself. "Poor strangers," says Merricat contentedly at last, studying trespassers from the darkness behind the barricaded Blackwood windows. "They have so much to be afraid of."