A review by cheezvshcrvst
We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

5.0

Enough has been remarked, academically, on this novel, so I won’t bother with a review that won’t do it justice. It’s plain to me that I prefer unreliable narration, delight in beautiful (even if simply-written) prose that charms in atmospheres eerie and beautiful, and a simple plot that drives the story without overwhelming it. It’s too easy to spoil this little book, by talking about what does and doesn’t happen, so I won’t do that either. Jackson is brilliant here and I could almost swear I’ve read this many times before. If I haven’t, then it’s true that much since has borrowed from We Have Always Lived in the Castle. Where do witches and haunted house stories come from? Why do we have superstitions about independent women(/the old crone trope?) When do we take the fantastic and horror as true and less scary than what comes after? As I read Mary Katherine’s deliberate and brutally honest tale of moving to the moon, of maybe having always been there, I wanted to turn on all of the lights and not go looking up at those windows of that house that she was telling me about all of the others arriving in the driveway or back door of. I suppose I will feel that way forever.