From the Bookshelf of Constant Reader…

We Have Always Lived in the Castle

Shirley Jackson

Start date: October 15, 2022

Finish date: November 15, 2022

Discussion: Reading List

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What Members Thought

Jul 21, 2013 Laura rated it liked it · review of another edition

Shelves: read-2016, fiction-20th-century, gothic-romance, suspense-thriller, e-books, american-fiction, novellas, horror

From BBC Radio 4 Extra - Book at Bedtime:
Merricat Blackwood lives on the family estate with her sister Constance and her uncle Julian. Not long ago there were seven Blackwoods - until a fatal dose of arsenic found its way into the sugar bowl one terrible night. Acquitted of the murders, Constance has returned home, where Merricat protects her from the curiosity and hostility of the villagers.

Episode Two:
The Blackwoods hold a tea party for Helen Clarke and her friend, Mrs Wright. But conversation ...more

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Mar 03, 2010 Kathy rated it it was amazing

Shelves: favorite-covers, highly-recommend, why-haven-t-i-read-this-book-yet

We Have Always Lived in the Castle is a delightfully strange tale told by an author who knows how to tell strange tales. With the same small town crowd mentality as Jackson's short story The Lottery, the mood of this book will draw the reader in and immerse him in a world of madness. Two young women and their uncle living secluded in a huge house just out of town, the rest of their family dead from arsenic poisoning, a town bent on torment of the young women, and a cousin who arrives to interrup ...more

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Mar 04, 2024 Debbie Petersen Wolven rated it it was amazing

Shelves: favorites, read-more-than-once, bookclub

This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here.
“My name is Mary Katherine Blackwood. I am eighteen years old, and I live with my sister Constance. I have often thought that with any luck at all, I could have been born a werewolf, because the two middle fingers on both my hands are the same length, but I have had to be content with what I had. I dislike washing myself, and dogs, and noise. I like my sister Constance, and Richard Plantagenet, and Amanita phalloides, the death-cup mushroom. Everyone else in our family is dead.”

Every so often, a
“My name is Mary Katherine Blackwood. I am eighteen years old, and I live with my sister Constance. I have often thought that with any luck at all, I could have been born a werewolf, because the two middle fingers on both my hands are the same length, but I have had to be content with what I had. I dislike washing myself, and dogs, and noise. I like my sister Constance, and Richard Plantagenet, and Amanita phalloides, the death-cup mushroom. Everyone else in our family is dead.”

Every so often, a book comes along that pulls you so far into it that you fall into a dreamlike state for the duration of the story. This one is a true masterpiece. Part Grey Gardens and part Virgin Suicides, both of which pull the observer into an enticing world of unease such as this one, each chaaracter unique with a seemingly matter of fact obliviousness to their own craziness. I loved them all, Constance's daydreamy naivete as she conducts her days focusing on "neatening" and cooking dinner, even after the roof is gone and the house had burned; Merricat with her razor-sharp observations, futile spells, blatant hatred of the villagers and anyone who threatens her way of life and anyone who threatens the fragile "peace" of their wierd household; and the sad, wheelchair-bound Uncle Julian who is not all there in his mind anymore but is obsessed with his writings about the last day the other relatives were alive. One part I keep thinking about is that Uncle Julian says at one point that Merricat died in the orphanage while her sister was on trial; he is corrected by Charles (awful cousin who wants to get his hands on their money) who points out that Merricat is sitting right there. Merricat doesn't seem to mourn Uncle Julian at all when he passes near the end, and she seems happy that all that remain are herself and Constance.

"Poor strangers," I said. "They have so much to be afraid of."
"Well," Constance said, "I am afraid of spiders."
"Jonas and I will see to it that no spider ever comes near you. Oh Constance," I said, "We are so happy."

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