We Have Always Lived in the Castle

I have come to realise that Shirley Jackson's brand of horror doesn't revolve so much around things that go bump in the night, but really around things that are more real, and therefore more terrifying, than that. This is a 3.5 to 4 star read for me.

Mary Katherine Blackwood, known as Merricat to her family, is an 18 year old girl living a secluded life with her sister Constance and her ailing Uncle Julian in a big, empty house. Most of their family are dead. Ugly rumours swirl around the Blackwood family in the nearby town, amplified by the gulf in socioeconomic class that separates the old and prestigious Blackwood family from the rest of the villagers.

The entire story is told from the perspective of Merricat, who, though 18, has the psyche of a much younger child. It is almost as if her psychiatric state has stagnated from when she was 12, when a major event happens that upheaves her entire family. Because of this child-like voice, we never quite get the feeling that we're seeing anything close to a realistic picture of what is happening - we're seeing the events of the plot through the lens of a child's very vivid imagination.

But the horror in this book, or at least the main source of repulsion for me, stems partially from the cruel persecution suffered by the Blackwoods at the hands of the villagers, without any apparent provocation other than that they are the Blackwoods. Any chapter of the book where the villagers turn up became automatically that much more unpleasant to read. The rhymes made up by the children of the village targeting specifically at the Blackwood sisters just smacked of the thoughtless cruelty that children inherit from their parents.

Another source of irritation was the introduction of cousin Charles, who appears with apparently reconciliatory intentions but quickly reveals himself to be a money-grubbing relative eager to get hold of any fortune the Blackwood sisters may have lying around the house. There is quite possibly some feminist undertones in the dynamics between Charles and the sisters, where he immediately asserts himself as the head of this household he had only just recently invaded, and attempts to control and arrange everything as he pleases simply by virtue of being the only male in his prime in the household and by attempting worm his way into Constance's affections, no matter what anyone else thinks.

If you're looking for straight-up supernatural horror, this is probably not the book for you. But if you enjoy the brand of horror that explores the uglier sides of human nature, this book might be right up your alley.