We Have Always Lived in the Castle is a 1962 mystery novel by American author Shirley Jackson. It was Jackson's final work, and was published with a dedication to Pascal Covici, the publisher, three years before the author's death in 1965. The novel is written in the voice of eighteen-year-old Mary Katherine "Merricat" Blackwood, who lives with her sister and uncle on an estate in Vermont. Six years before the events of the novel, the Blackwood family experienced a tragedy that left the three survivors isolated from their small village. The novel was first published in hardcover in North America by Viking Press, and has since been released in paperback and as an audiobook and e-book. It has been described as Jackson's masterpiece. Its first screen adaptation appeared in 2018, based on a screenplay by Mark Kruger and directed by Stacie Passon.
I need to come back and write more about this; I want to say it’s a new favorite, but it feels less acute and than that. I’ll think of this book often.
Oh how I wish I’d first read We Have Always Lived in the Castle years ago. I loved everything about this utterly haunting, unrelentingly sinister, and thoroughly claustrophobic story. It’s a captivating study of the relationship between the remaining members of the once prominent, now infamous Blackwood family (the rest of whom were all fatally poisoned years ago): the Blackwood sisters, Mary Katherine (younger sister and narrator of our tale) and Constance (elder sister, acquitted of said murders), their invalid uncle Julian (obsessed with documenting Blackwood family’s tragic past), and their strained relationship with the nearby villagers. Aside from the need to venture into town for supplies, such as groceries and library books (a harrowing task undertaken by Merricat), this peculiar trio live a very isolated, self-contained, ritualistic life together, which is fascinating all by itself. Then their cousin Charles comes calling, ostensibly to visit, upsetting the balance of the …
Oh how I wish I’d first read We Have Always Lived in the Castle years ago. I loved everything about this utterly haunting, unrelentingly sinister, and thoroughly claustrophobic story. It’s a captivating study of the relationship between the remaining members of the once prominent, now infamous Blackwood family (the rest of whom were all fatally poisoned years ago): the Blackwood sisters, Mary Katherine (younger sister and narrator of our tale) and Constance (elder sister, acquitted of said murders), their invalid uncle Julian (obsessed with documenting Blackwood family’s tragic past), and their strained relationship with the nearby villagers. Aside from the need to venture into town for supplies, such as groceries and library books (a harrowing task undertaken by Merricat), this peculiar trio live a very isolated, self-contained, ritualistic life together, which is fascinating all by itself. Then their cousin Charles comes calling, ostensibly to visit, upsetting the balance of the Blackwood household, a predicament that Merricat is determined to resolve. And so an already strange and stifling situation steadily escalates…
As I get older it is rare that a new-to-me book is an instant favorite, but this one is. I am already excited to read it again, and I'm tempted to go back and read it again immediately. Sinister, mysterious, and utterly compelling.
I started reading this book nearly three months ago, and I don't know exactly why it took me so long to finish it. Other graphic novels came and went, and I read a chapter of WHALITC here and there, but I finished the last 40 pages in one sitting at breakneck pace. Usually, after finishing a book that took me a long time to read for no real reason at all, I end up feeling a bit bummed that I got so distracted. But, with WHALITC, I felt that reading at a not-so-typical pace added so much to the story. The characters still stuck out in my mind, and I could pick up right where I left off in this jarring story.
With other stories like We Need To Talk About Kevin, Room, and even movies like the VVitch, I felt like I was watching or reading something that I …
I started reading this book nearly three months ago, and I don't know exactly why it took me so long to finish it. Other graphic novels came and went, and I read a chapter of WHALITC here and there, but I finished the last 40 pages in one sitting at breakneck pace. Usually, after finishing a book that took me a long time to read for no real reason at all, I end up feeling a bit bummed that I got so distracted. But, with WHALITC, I felt that reading at a not-so-typical pace added so much to the story. The characters still stuck out in my mind, and I could pick up right where I left off in this jarring story.
With other stories like We Need To Talk About Kevin, Room, and even movies like the VVitch, I felt like I was watching or reading something that I shouldn't. Like those stories were too personal and I was intruding on something horrible happening to a family behind the supposed privacy of a home. But what makes a home? Or a family? Can either endure tragedy, scorn, destruction, and exile?
I've been thinking about this story a lot since finishing the book, and I have a feeling it's going to stick with me for a while.
Wow. Engrossing but also messed up. Written superbly.
Dark. Good read, but meloncholy.
The Blackwood sisters, Constance and Merricat (Mary Katherine) try to live an idyllic life with their uncle Julian in their big New England house. The villagers surrounding them hate them and often chant hurtful words. The Blackwood family were once much bigger, but one meal changed it all. Arsenic in the sugar served with dessert killed the rest of the family, Constance never had sugar, Merricat was sent to her room before supper and Julian only had a little sugar and is now a shell of his former self. Despite the fact that Constance was arrested and then acquitted of this crime, the rumours still run wild and the Blackwoods live their life in seclusion, that is until Charles arrived and tried to steal the family fortune.
While We Have Always Lived in the Castle is the first Shirley Jackson I have read, it was in fact her final novel. …
The Blackwood sisters, Constance and Merricat (Mary Katherine) try to live an idyllic life with their uncle Julian in their big New England house. The villagers surrounding them hate them and often chant hurtful words. The Blackwood family were once much bigger, but one meal changed it all. Arsenic in the sugar served with dessert killed the rest of the family, Constance never had sugar, Merricat was sent to her room before supper and Julian only had a little sugar and is now a shell of his former self. Despite the fact that Constance was arrested and then acquitted of this crime, the rumours still run wild and the Blackwoods live their life in seclusion, that is until Charles arrived and tried to steal the family fortune.
While We Have Always Lived in the Castle is the first Shirley Jackson I have read, it was in fact her final novel. I went into this book knowing nothing about the story and I found it the perfect way to experience the novel. An American gothic that is in part a haunted house story, in part a mystery, and as Jackson’s biographer Judy Opphenheimer calls it a “paean to agoraphobia”. A psychological story that explores the effects of rumours and public opinion, all told from the perspective of eighteen year old Merricat, who is an unreliable narrator.
There is a real mystery about the Blackwoods, but I was more interested in the effects the villagers had on the family. I know the isolation is a reflection of the author’s own agoraphobia and nervous conditions but I took it more as a look into social issues, essentially the effects of rumours and speculation. I cannot help but compare the book with Frankenstein. This is the beauty of fiction and the way people all have different perspectives on the same piece of literature.
I found both Constance and Merricat to be wonderful characters, they are both strong and at times unlikeable, while being mysterious and complex. Merricat has to be one of the best narrators found in literature; I never could fully understand her and she often surprised me. She is likeable but I could never trust her completely. She was an enigma and as the novel progressed and secrets revealed, I really appreciated the way Shirley Jackson crafted these characters.
There is a fine balance between the morbid and the whimsical to be found in We Have Always Lived in the Castle; it is poetic and haunting. Discovering Shirley Jackson came at the perfect time, I read this book during Halloween and I eagerly await next year to read another one of her novels. I know I could read Jackson at other times, but I do think her writing suited Halloween perfectly. I know The House of Haunting Hill is recommended, but I would love to know which of her other books should take priority.
This review originally appeared on my blog; www.knowledgelost.org/book-reviews/genre/horror/we-have-always-lived-in-the-castle-by-shirley-jackson/
Jackson is a master of atmosphere and tension. Not much really has to happen for her work to be a magnificent read and that's pretty much what happens here. I'd only read her short fiction before; I'll seek out more novels of hers this year.
This is like a 3.5 rounded up. I inconsistently round up and down
This short book is a story about a girl who lives in a large, rather isolated house with her older sister and their invalid uncle. We learn that the family, the Blackwoods, is one of the older families in that town. A great tragedy has befallen the family six years prior and as a result, the remaining survivors, Mary Katherine, her older sister Constance, and their Uncle Julian, have retreated into seclusion. The villagers hate them.
The character of Constance; and the interaction between her and her younger more spirited sister, Mary Katherine, I think, are the main showcases of this book.
The work is moody and atmospheric. If you loved works such as that by Anne Rice, Edgar Allen Poe, and also Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, I highly recommend this book.
Eerie and strange and filled with the narrator's own cluttered, wild imagination. Very difficult to put down.
