'We Have Always Lived in The Castle'
Introduction
The story is set in a small, nondescript town and is narrated by Mary Katherine "Merricat" Blackwood, an eccentric eighteen-year-old who lives with her sister Constance and their Uncle Julian on the family estate. The Blackwood family has always been a peculiar presence in the town, with strong traditions and a grand house filled with layers of belongings that mark their lengthy heritage.
Constance, who is a keen gardener, never ventures beyond their property, while Uncle Julian is preoccupied with chronicling the details of the night that the rest of the Blackwood family perished - a tragedy that involved arsenic poisoning and resulted in the death of Merricat and Constance's parents and brother. Constance was tried for the crime but eventually acquitted, leaving the townspeople distrustful and suspicious of the Blackwood sisters.
Merricat handles the necessary interactions with the outside world, such as going into the village for groceries and books, activities she undertakes with a mix of disdain and necessity. She has habits and rituals to protect herself and her family against the animosity they face, and her narrative reveals an underlying disconnection from the norms of society.
As Merricat goes about her tasks, she plays a mental game equating her village errands to a board game where she must avoid "dangers" and reach the sanctuary of her home marked by a black rock near a path secured by a gate. The local people have always resented the Blackwoods, and this animosity complicates Merricat's excursions into the village, where they regard her with a mix of curiosity and hostility.
It's clear from the outset that the novel will explore themes of isolation, family loyalty versus societal expectations, and the effects of a tragedy on both the survivors and their community. Merricat's protective instincts, combined with her unusual thought patterns and rituals, indicate that her narrative may not always be reliable, setting the reader up for a story full of ambiguity and intrigue.
The novel explores the dark dynamics of this isolated family as they navigate their complex relationships with each other and the outside world which both fears and despises them. We can infer that the story will unfold with the tension between the Blackwood's insular domestic life and the encroaching influences of the outside world, leading to further revelations about their past and how they will cope with the challenges that arise.
Characters
Mary Katherine “Merricat” Blackwood
Mary Katherine "Merricat" Blackwood is one of the most complex characters in Shirley Jackson's "We Have Always Lived in the Castle." Through her first-person narrative, the reader receives an intimate but possibly unreliable perspective on the events unfolding within the story.
Merricat is depicted as a young woman deeply fixated on her family and home, engaging in ritualistic behaviors to protect the space she cherishes. She appears to live in a world of her own making, which includes peculiar habits and charms believed to shield her and her sister Constance from the outside world. Her rituals signal an obsession with control and preservation, indicating a psychological response to past traumas, namely the poisoning which led to her family’s demise.
Merricat’s voice as our window into the Blackwood’s world can fluctuate between childlike simplicity and ominous undertones, as seen in quotes like, "Mary Katherine must never be punished. Must never be sent to bed without her dinner." This is an echo of an era in her past when she was perhaps overly indulged, a status reaffirmed by her family: "Our beloved our dearest Mary Katherine must be guarded and cherished".
Merricat's relationships within her family reveal a lot about her psychological state. She is simultaneously the protector and the protected. Adults around her, even before the family tragedy, assured her that she could do no wrong: "Lucy you are to see to it that our most loved daughter Mary Katherine is never punished." "Mary Katherine would never allow herself to do anything wrong; there is never any need to punish her".
Such statements may have contributed to a sense of infallibility in Merricat's character. Her interactions with Uncle Julian also shed light on her character. Despite their shared experience of loss, Uncle Julian's declaration that "My niece Mary Katherine has been a long time dead young man. She did not survive the loss of her family" illustrates the disconnect between Merricat's internal sense of self and the perception held by others, asserting that the Mary Katherine he knew died with the rest of the Blackwood family. This implies psychological death or perhaps a significant transformation in Merricat's character post-tragedy.
Her interactions with the townspeople are equally telling. They are polite but distant, and Merricat participates in this social dance with a detached courtesy: “'Good morning Mary Katherine,' Stella always said... 'Very well thank you.'"
The townspeople maintain polite interactions but their resentment or fear of the Blackwoods underlies their civility, hinting at Merricat's ostracisation from society.
Merricat's sense of self seems intrinsically tied to her home and her sister. When a local hints at assistance should the sisters need to move, "You just say the word Miss Mary Katherine and we'll all come out and help you pack. Just you say the word Merricat," it underscores the community's sense of otherness towards Merricat, and possibly their eagerness to see the Blackwoods leave.
Through Merricat, Shirley Jackson explores the psyche of a young woman shaped by profound loss, persistent isolation, and the human desire to create order from chaos. Merricat becomes both the embodiment of these forces and a symbol of defiance against societal judgment. As a character, Merricat may elicit both sympathy and wariness from readers, as her innocence is shadowed by the darkness of her past and the mysteries that surround her family's story.
Constance Blackwood
Constance Blackwood is depicted as a figure of maternal warmth and grace in the face of both past tragedy and current isolation. Constance assumes the role of the caretaker for her younger sister Merricat and their Uncle Julian, managing the household and gardens of their large estate with a serene demeanor.
Constance's character is defined by the townspeople's suspicion of her involvement in the arsenic poisoning that resulted in the death of the rest of the Blackwood family. Despite being acquitted in court, Constance is branded by the trial's notoriety. The image of her standing with Uncle Julian's shawl over her face amid accusatory whispers, "Did she kill him?" encapsulates the perpetual cloud of suspicion that hangs over her ("She did not," the doctor stated, defending her innocence).
Indicative of her silent endurance, Constance rarely ventures outside the grounds of her home, highlighting the significant impact the public scrutiny has had on her psyche, perhaps preferring the predictable safety within her domestic realm. Even years after the trial, Constance remains a subject of fascination; people "were always there waiting for Constance just wanting to see her," displaying the community's morose curiosity with her supposed crime and equally her victimhood.
Constance's relationship with her sister Merricat illustrates a deep bond forged by shared trauma and dependence, but it also imbues her with a sense of resilient tranquility, as she seems almost ethereally detached from the darker past they share.
Constance’s presence in the story offers a stark contrast to Merricat’s chaotic perspective. Constance seems to ground Merricat, serving as a comforting, steadfast anchor in her otherwise turbulent life. The townspeople's mixed reactions, ranging from polite inquiry to veiled hostility, define her existence within the public sphere, where the past is neither forgotten nor forgiven. Her interactions with others reveal a subtle defiance behind her seemingly unshakeable calm, suggesting that beneath her placid exterior lies a complexity of character and a strength to survive against the odds.
Constance Blackwood emerges as a figure symbolising serenity in the face of adversity, the obligation of care in the wake of loss, and the quiet strength that sustains a family alienated by its community.
Uncle Julian Blackwood
Uncle Julian Blackwood is one of the three survivors of the Blackwood family after the arsenic poisoning incident. Uncle Julian is often described as "eccentric" by others within and outside the family. This assessment stems from his peculiar behaviors and obsessive preoccupation with the family tragedy, as he dedicates his time to documenting the incident in great detail.
Uncle Julian's eccentricity is partly a reflection of his inability to move beyond the past. His constant rumination on the night of the poisoning indicates a mind that is trapped in a cycle of recall and documentation: "'William of Orange was a bastard,' Uncle Julian said to himself; he took up a bit of paper and made a note.“ His focus on making notes and the care with which he treats his papers underscore his need for control over the narrative of his family's history. Despite this, there is also a suggestion that he has moments of lucidity where he recognises his and possibly his family's need for help, pointing out, "He should be in a hospital" – a sentiment to which Merricat reacts negatively, vowing not to send him to such a place
Life at the Blackwood home revolves around set patterns and domestic tranquility, with Uncle Julian being a focal point of Constance's caregiving. Concern for his well-being is expressed in the careful management of his diet and comfort, evident in the exchange about whether he shall be allowed peanut brittle: "'Will you let Uncle Julian have peanut brittle?' I asked Constance. 'After his lunch,' Constance said". This quote portrays the delicate balance maintained by Constance within the household, as she caters to both the physical and emotional needs of Uncle Julian, treating him with a mix of indulgence and caution.
The character of Uncle Julian therefore represents the scars left by the family tragedy, both physically due to his fragile health and mentally, through his obsession with the past. His interactions with Constance and Merricat also reveal the family's internal dynamics and the roles they have adopted post-crisis: Merricat as the protector, Constance as the nurturer, and Uncle Julian as the ailing figure of what once was – a reminder of the family's fall from grace and dignity.
In sum, Uncle Julian serves as a poignant reminder of the destructive force of the past and the weight it holds over the present. His complex character invites readers to ponder themes of memory, guilt, and the relentless pursuit of understanding one's own history.
Charles Blackwood
Charles Blackwood, described as a cousin of the Blackwood family, emerges as an opportunist with questionable motives. He visits the Blackwood sisters after their tragedy and, unlike them, is not concerned with maintaining the sanctity or privacy of the family home. He is rather fixated on the potential wealth hidden within the house.
His character is revealed as he tries to force himself back into the sisters' lives for personal gain. We witness the manipulative nature of his character when he approaches the locked door of the Blackwood home, the barrier that Merricat and Constance have put up against the world, including him: "Charles Blackwood came back only once... he would never get in. I reached up and touched the lock on the front door to make sure it was fastened“. This description by Merricat, and her action of checking the lock, indicates the distrust and the determination to keep him out.
During a conversation with another man, presumably motivated by greed or a desire for fame, Charles shamelessly exaggerates the wealth that he believes the sisters are hoarding: "'They've got money in there's never even been counted. They've got it buried all over and a safe full and God knows where else they've hidden it'". Charles's focus on the fortune suggests his primary motivation for returning and rekindling a relationship with Constance and Merricat stems from greed rather than familial concern.
Furthermore, his attempt to sway Constance with a mix of familiarity and feigned remorse—"Hey Connie? It's Charles; I'm back... Let's forget all that happened... Let's be friends again"—falls flat as Merricat reflects on the superficiality of his gesture and remembers his true nature as a "ghost and a demon," aligning him with their other tormentors, the 'strangers’.
Charles's pleas at the door and his claim of responsibility for their situation serve as a last-ditch effort to gain access not only to the home but to the trust of Constance and Merricat: "I've got to see her once more. I was the cause of it all... I didn't mean it to turn out this way“. His speech highlights his desperation and seems to be a tactic to evoke sympathy or guilt, building a complex portrait of a man who is willing to say and do anything to reach his goal.
Through Charles Blackwood, Jackson explores themes of opportunism and exploitation, depicting a character that embodies the greed and insensitivity of the outside world toward the isolated and vulnerable Blackwood sisters. His role in the story highlights the corrosive dangers of greed and the ways in which outsiders attempt to penetrate and disrupt the sanctuary that Constance and Merricat have created.
Jonas
Jonas, while not a human character, plays an important role as the cherished pet and companion of Mary Katherine "Merricat" Blackwood. Jonas's relationship with Merricat provides a sense of comfort and normalcy in an otherwise disrupted world.
Despite being an animal, Jonas is attributed a sense of individuality and independence, as depicted by Merricat's description of their interaction: "Jonas ran and when I stopped and stood still he stopped and glanced at me and then went briskly off in another direction as though we were not acquainted and then he sat down and waited for me to run again“. This quote suggests a playful and yet distant relationship, as if Jonas maintains his agency and chooses when to engage or distance himself from Merricat.
The portrayal of Jonas as a character who Merricat feels she cannot entirely control or make decisions for ("Jonas, I told him, 'you are not to listen anymore to Cousin Charles'") adds depth to Merricat's own understanding of independence and the limits of her influence over others, even her pet.
Through Jonas, Jackson is able to explore themes of companionship, autonomy, and the simplicity of unconditional acceptance found in the bond between pets and their owners. Jonas represents a nonjudgmental presence that accepts Merricat without the complicated history that weighs down human interactions within the novel.
Jonas’s presence is a silent, comforting one in Merricat’s life, offering both companionship and a semblance of normalcy against the backdrop of the sisters' solitude and the intrusion of the outside world into their lives.
Jim Donell
Jim Donell embodies the deliberate malice of the townsfolk directed towards the Blackwood family. Unlike many villagers who participate in passive or habitual hatred, Jim Donell's actions appear to be conscious and targeted. Merricat, the narrator, explicitly acknowledges the intentions behind his behavior: "Some of the people in the village had real faces that I knew and could hate individually; Jim Donell and his wife were among these because they were deliberate instead of just hating dully and from habit like the others".
In a particularly revealing encounter, Jim Donell positions himself to provoke Merricat, taking a seat uncomfortably close to her at a counter, a move interpreted by Merricat as an attempt to bring her bad luck: "Jim Donell came right to the end where I was sitting and took the stool next to me as close to me as he could come because I knew he wanted this morning to be bad luck for me”. His direct approach and the specific choice of seating illustrate a keen intent to discomfort and perhaps intimidate.
This interaction also shows Jim Donell's awareness and possibly his enjoyment of the rumours and gossip circulating in the village, as he taunts Merricat with the knowledge shared among the villagers about the Blackwood's supposed intention to move away: "'They tell me,' he said swinging to sit sideways on his stool and look at me directly 'they tell me you're moving away'". His repetition of this phrase indicates that he is savouring the moment and Merricat's reaction, further emphasising his role as an antagonist who takes pleasure in the Blackwoods' strife.
Through the character of Jim Donell, Jackson explores the more active and menacing aspects of human behavior, where one takes explicit steps to cause distress. Donell's character adds to the oppressive atmosphere Merricat and her family face in their lives, highlighting the hostility and cruelty that can come from those in their immediate social environment.
Jim Clarke
Jim Clarke seems to hold a position of authority or at least presence in the community. His character is illustrated in a pivotal scene where the crowd reacts to the news of Julian Blackwood's death.
In this moment, Jim Clarke is depicted as a figure attempting to control or provide order amidst the chaos: "'Listen to me,' Jim Clarke said raising his voice 'listen to me. Julian Blackwood is dead.'" His statement has the effect of commandeering the attention of those present, quieting the crowd momentarily, which suggests he is either respected or has some form of influence among the villagers.
After Charles Blackwood's accusatory question about Constance's involvement in Julian's death, and the subsequent silent retreat of the crowd, Jim Clarke speaks again to the crowd, indicating his role in maintaining civility: "'Now go quietly,'" he commands, again wielding his voice to assert some kind of peace or discipline.
Jim Clarke’s character contrasts with the openly hostile attitudes of some villagers like Jim Donell. Clarke operates within the public sphere, not by engaging in direct conflict with the Blackwood sisters but by attempting to moderate the townspeople’s reactions, steering them towards a more orderly conduct. His interactions suggest a concern for decorum, even if this is superficial, reflecting the social dynamics at play between the Blackwood family and the village.
Through Jim Clarke, Jackson shows the complex layers of community response, where figures like Clarke might not actively oppose the Blackwoods, but instead act in a more ambiguous capacity, guiding communal actions and reflecting the struggle between social order and the undercurrent of gossip, speculation, and stigma surrounding the Blackwoods. His character adds to the diversity of the community's responses to the Blackwood family, showing that while there is hostility, there can also be voices that call for calm, even if it's only to maintain appearances or public order.
Themes
Female Power
The theme of female power is explored through the portrayal of the Blackwood sisters, who navigate and subvert the limitations imposed upon them by their society. Both Constance and Merricat embody differing aspects of female power, asserting agency and resistance in unique ways.
Constance, despite living in the shadows of societal scorn, is presented as the nurturer and protector of the domestic sphere. She assumes a matriarchal role in her family, managing the household and caring for her sister and Uncle Julian. Even under public scrutiny, she demonstrates an enduring strength. As the villagers sought her out for their own voyeuristic curiosity, Constance faces them with a composed façade, "they knew her name and how she wore her hair and the color of the three dresses she had to wear in court and how old she was and how she talked and moved," reflecting not only their invasive gaze but her resilience in maintaining her dignity amid the sensation. This quote shows the pressure Constance is under, being known not for who she is, but as an object of intrigue and speculation. Yet, her power lies in her ability to retain her composure and control over her life within the constraints of her situation, a quiet yet effective form of resistance.
Merricat's female power, on the other hand, is represented through her rebellion against societal norms and her protective nature over her sister and home. She shows a fierce independence and imagination that offsets the oppressive reality they live in. Merricat wishes for the utter devastation of those who scorn them, showing a dark side to her wish for agency, "I wanted them doubled up and crying on the ground in front of me". This demonstrates her desire for control and power over those who have wronged her and her family. Her fantasies provide her with a perverse sense of justice and power where, in reality, she is largely powerless.
Merricat's response to the children's taunting – a cruel chant suggesting she will poison Constance – reveals her disdain for the villagers' gossip and also her deep-seated desire to undermine the narrative they've set for her: "Merricat said Connie would you like a cup of tea? Oh no said Merricat you'll poison me". Her echo of the taunt shows an awareness of her demonization as the village witch but also holds a defiant edge. It's a display of dark humor and a refusal to be victimized by slander, turning the accusation into an absurdity.
The two sisters, united in their isolation, subvert traditional female roles of vulnerability and passivity. The Blackwood sisters remain cloistered, but within their fortress, they wield power over their personal destinies, mutual protection, and over the boundaries they set against the world. Constance's domestic leadership and Merricat's imaginative defense mechanisms create a sanctuary that defies the societal expectations of women in distress, showcasing a different kind of female power – one rooted in self-sufficiency and sisterhood.
Jackson's portrayal of female power is complex and multifaceted, reflecting strenuous resilience and an introspective depth. Both Constance's and Merricat's characters question and challenge traditional gender roles, illustrating the strength in feminine solidarity and psychological fortitude despite enduring an existentially hostile environment. Their unique forms of power, whether overt or covert, contribute to the novel’s examination of societal expectations and individual autonomy.
Family and Gender
Themes of family and gender play a significant role in shaping the narrative and characters' lives. The Blackwood family, once large and now reduced to two sisters and an uncle, lives in a house that carries the weight of their legacy, both as a sanctuary and a testament to their family history.
The home itself is imbued with a sense of ordered permanency in the possessions that have accumulated through generations: "Blackwoods had always lived in our house and kept their things in order; as soon as a new Blackwood wife moved in a place was found for her belongings and so our house was built up with layers of Blackwood property weighting it and keeping it steady against the world". This quote illustrates the importance of heritage and the maintenance of family identity through physical objects and the home's enduring presence, suggesting stability and tradition amidst the chaos that the remaining Blackwoods experience in the world.
Gender roles are knit closely into the fabric of the story, offering insights into how the sisters navigate and often subvert the expectations placed upon them. Constance, known both within her home and the adjacent village, is constantly observed and judged by the townspeople. This surveillance extends to minute detail: "They knew her name and how she wore her hair and the color of the three dresses she had to wear in court and how old she was and how she talked and moved…" (Constance? Constance?"... "Doesn't look like a murderess does she?). The scrutiny Constance faces is a commentary on the invasive nature of gender norms and the pressures that come from existing within a patriarchal society, where a woman’s life and choices can become communal property, deconstructed and examined by all.
Merricat, on the other hand, faces a different kind of gendered expectation. She deals with the cruelty of children echoing the suspicions and judgments of their parents, revealing a complex interplay of innocence and learned behavior. The children's taunt, a play on the idea of the female role as a caretaker being subverted into that of a poisoner, reflects back society's patriarchal fear of female agency and power: "Merricat said Connie would you like a cup of tea? Oh no said Merricat you'll poison me". Merricat's awareness of this perception, and her internal rejection of it, reflects her defiance against the prescribed gender roles and highlights her resilience in clinging to her sense of self.
The analysis of the themes of family and gender within Shirley Jackson's uncovers the tale of two women resisting, in their ways, the strictures of their society and history. It provides a portrayal of how these themes are experienced and how they impact the characters' day-to-day existence and self-perception. Through their interactions with each other and the world, the Blackwood sisters embody a subversion of traditional roles, and through the setting of their storied family home, they navigate the choppy waters of societal expectation and personal freedom.
Guilt and Punishment
The theme of guilt and punishment revolves around the aftermath of the family tragedy and the community's response to it, particularly toward the Blackwood sisters. These themes are interwoven through the characters' actions, their relationships with each other and the townspeople, and within the psychological undercurrents that run throughout the novel.
Merricat’s perception of Charles intruding on their father's belongings conjures up not only her sense of territorial protection over the family home but also ties to a sense of sacred trust that has been violated, along with the latent guilt she attributes to him: "I thought that Charles would not be pleased to know that I caught him looking at our father's things and something from this drawer might be extraordinarily powerful since it would carry a guilt of Charles". This moment captures Merricat’s awareness of the palpable guilt and her desire for Charles to carry that weight, whether he feels it or not. Her reflection highlights an informal kind of punishment, the weight of perceived wrongdoing, that she wishes upon Charles.
The punishment extends beyond formal legal repercussions and into the realm of the social and psychological. Constance, having been tried and acquitted for the murder of her family, carries the burden of public guilt despite her legal innocence: "They knew her name... and how she wore her hair and the color of the three dresses she had to wear in court". Their familiarity with Constance's appearance and the intimate details of her time in court show how she has been unwillingly inscribed into the public memory. It suggests a form of social punishment that persists in the minds of the village inhabitants after the formal proceedings have ended.
Lastly, Merricat herself appears to navigate feelings of guilt through her actions and rituals as she exacts her own forms of punishments for perceived transgressions against her family, albeit these actions are sometimes more imagined or symbolic than real: "I was not surprised to find that he had been looking at our father's jewelry". Her reluctance to interact with certain family artifacts implies a respect for the possessions but also points towards a sense of limitation and unspoken guilt or blame within herself, perhaps as a response to her own perceived or actual role in the family's misfortunes.
Guilt and punishment are themes that influence character dynamics and the Blackwoods' interaction with the outside world. Jackson uses these themes to explore the boundaries between actual guilt and societal perception, as well as self-imposed penalties in the form of rituals and behaviors designed to keep the past at bay. The handling of these themes contributes to the gothic atmosphere of the novel, while also providing insight into the psychological complexities of humans in the face of tragedy and condemnation.
Isolation
Isolation is a prevailing theme in Shirley Jackson's "We Have Always Lived in the Castle," profoundly impacting the characters, particularly the Blackwood sisters, and driving the narrative tension. Jackson explores both the physical and psychological dimensions of isolation and the ways in which the characters seek to both reinforce and cope with their separation from society.
The Blackwood sisters' home is described in terms that evoke a sense of isolation, as evidenced by the reactions of the villagers and how the sisters fend off attempts to break their seclusion. Jim Clarke's observation, "'Damn place is all boarded up,'" suggests that the home itself, as a physical space, serves as a barrier between the sisters and the outside world, but also that the isolation is recognised and lamented by the villagers. The description that Merricat gives, imbued with a sense of satisfaction, "I thought good oh that's good," underscores her sanctuary's impenetrability and indicates her desire for isolation and separation from the townspeople, who she views with mistrust and disdain.
Notably, the attempts of the villagers to reach out to the sisters, "Miss Blackwood? It's Dr. Levy. And Jim Clarke. Helen's husband. Helen's very worried about you," are laced with a kind of paternalistic concern that belies past aggressions and the ongoing curiosity that continually violates the sisters' privacy. The community's concern for their well-being, as well as their ambiguous offers of friendship, "'Listen no one's going to hurt you. We're your friends,'" seem hollow given the sisters' tragic past experiences and are countered by the sisters’ need for safety within the confines of their isolated home.
The sisters' self-imposed isolation, therefore, becomes a coping mechanism and a means of control over their lives and narratives. By choosing isolation, they create a boundary that governs their interactions with the villagers and reflects their psychological state—one marked by wariness, independence, and a desire to preserve the sanctity of their family's world away from prying eyes.
Through the theme of isolation, Jackson delves into the complexities of human psychology and social dynamics. She examines the Blackwood sisters' contradictory need for both separation from and connection to the broader community, ultimately painting a poignant picture of the human need for both self-preservation and belonging.
Symbolism
The Moon
Jackson uses the moon as a symbolic space for Merricat, representing her sense of otherness, escape, and imagination. The moon, often associated with mystery and otherworldliness, resonates with Merricat's psychological retreat from the society that shuns her.
Merricat's musings about the moon illustrate her desire to inhabit a place untouched by earthly concerns: "I liked my house on the moon and I put a fireplace in it and a garden outside (what would flourish growing on the moon? I must ask Constance) and I was going to have lunch outside in my garden on the moon". This quote illuminates her longing for a haven far removed from her present reality—a home where the challenges she faces exist only in the most fantastical sense, and where life can be fundamentally different from the rigid structures of the village and its condemning gaze.
The colors and imagery that Merricat associates with her lunar abode speak volumes: "Things on the moon were very bright and odd colors; my little house would be blue". The brightness and oddity of the colors connote a vibrancy and freedom of expression that contrast sharply with the gloom that shadows her life on Earth. The blue house is not just unconventional; it is a symbol of Merricat's uniqueness and her internal vivacity that refuses to be dimmed by the societal scorn she endures.
"I watched my small brown feet go in and out," reflects the gentle, almost childlike nature of Merricat's disconnect from her environment as she looks down instead of directly engaging with the world around her. It is a meaningful depiction of self-absorption and also of grounding, in an odd way—her observation signals an in-the-moment presence even as her mind roams elsewhere.
The symbol of the moon thus becomes a motif for Merricat's psychological landscape, where she exerts absolute control and cultivates a reality that suits her needs and whims. It is a place where she experiences no judgment and relishes in a freedom otherwise denied to her, reflecting her internal exile and the liberation she yearns for. Through this symbol, Jackson captures Merricat's internal rebellion against the constraints imposed upon her, and her quiet determination to find solace and joy, even if only in the confines of her imagination.
The Safe
The symbol of the safe serves as an emblem of security and protection, as well as a reminder of the Blackwood family's past and the secrets they keep. In a narrative so deeply concerned with isolation and the consequences of public perception, the safe holds additional layers of meaning relevant to the family's cohesion and their sense of control over their own narrative.
When Merricat and Constance find the safe untouched after the intruders could not open it or carry it away, their reaction highlights both relief and mockery towards the futility of these attempts: "Our father's safe lay just inside the drawing-room door and I laughed and even Constance smiled because it had not been opened and it had clearly not been possible to carry it any farther than this. 'Foolishness,' Constance said and touched the safe with her toe“. This passage conveys a moment where the sisters find levity in what is otherwise a demarcated boundary of their private world—the sanctity of the safe signifies the resilience of their family secrets and thus their autonomy.
The safe, laden with historical and financial implications, symbolises the tangible legacy left by their father, representing a past that remains locked away, known only to the remaining members of the household. It stands in contrast to the rest of the house that has been exposed and violated, signifying a remnant of their old reputation and standing that cannot easily be dispelled or laid bare for public consumption.
This symbol reflects the themes of control and hidden truth within the novel. The unbreached safe mirrors the sisters' capacity to guard their personal narratives against outsider speculation and the strength they derive from maintaining that control. It silently upholds the notion that some aspects of their family history are to remain permanently out of reach from those who would seek to plunder them, both materially and metaphorically.
Thus, the safe stands as a guard against external intrusion and anchors the sisters' sense of privacy and historical identity, underscoring their connection to their legacy and their determination to protect it from the judgment and greed of the outside world. It symbolises the unbreakable core of what the Blackwood family once was, engendering in Merricat and Constance both the necessity and power to continue standing resilient against a world that incessantly attempts to penetrate their isolated existence.
Setting
The Blackwood family home
The concept of the house as both a refuge and fortress is central to the setting of Shirley Jackson's "We Have Always Lived in the Castle." Throughout the novel, the Blackwood family home not only physically shields the protagonists from the outside world but also symbolizes their psychological sanctuary against a hostile society.
The Blackwood home is more than a physical structure; it is a retreat where the sisters find comfort and isolation from a world that has treated them with cruelty and suspicion. After the tragic poisoning that claimed the lives of the rest of their family, the house becomes a domain where they can structure their lives and protect their remaining kinship: "We would not use it again until afternoon because almost all of our life was lived toward the back of the house on the lawn and the garden where no one else ever came". This retreat to the life "toward the back of the house" speaks to their withdrawal from the public eye into a more private and controlled environment - their own pastoral escape.
Moreover, there's an indication that this choice of where they live their life is both a natural inclination and a deliberate barrier: "We left the front of the house turned toward the highway and the village and went our own ways behind its stern unwelcoming face". By anthropomorphising the house with a "stern unwelcoming face," Jackson implies that the house itself is an active participant in guarding the sisters, providing a countenance to the world that is uninviting and protective, reflecting their desire to be left alone. It seemingly stands vigilant, guarding the sisters from the judgmental and intrusive eyes of the villagers.
The spatial orientation of their life in the house - living towards the back - also functions as a tactical choice, serving as a fortress against external threats. The term "fortress" conjures images of a bastion built to withstand sieges, which is effectively the role the house plays in the sisters' lives. The solidity and security of the home are paramount for the Blackwoods; Merricat frequently reinforces the home’s defenses through her protective rituals, and the locking of the door "in the hall" is part of this ritualistic preservation of their sanctuary.
The front of the house, which is "turned toward the highway and the village," represents the face shown to the outside world – both a literal and figurative barrier. The sisters have relinquished this part of the house, implying a concession that the society they face is beyond their control, while asserting their power over the inner, hidden aspects of their home and lives. Even the architecture reflects social withdrawal and self-defense, as the sisters eschew typical use of the home’s more public-facing spaces.
In summary, the Blackwood house, enveloping in its embrace and foreboding to outside onlookers, is an essential element of the novel's setting that encapsulates the duality of refuge and fortress. Through it, Jackson highlights the sisters' desire to create a haven from a menacing world, while also alluding to the costs of such isolation – the reduction of their world to the boundaries of their property, and the forfeiture of a broader engagement with life beyond their carefully cultivated sanctuary. The home's dual role deepens the novel's exploration of the protective and imprisoning capacities of isolation, the need for security, and the deep human longing for a safe haven from the threats of an often misunderstood existence.
The village
The village in Shirley Jackson’s “We Have Always Lived in the Castle” serves as the epicenter of animosity and a source of relentless social persecution for the Blackwood family. Through Merricat’s perspective, Jackson portrays the village not merely as a topographical location but as a veritable landscape of hostility that bears a collective judgment and harbors a vendetta against the sisters.
The hate of the village towards the Blackwood sisters is rooted in a deep suspicion and relentless contempt: "I always thought about rot when I came toward the row of stores; I thought about burning black painful rot that ate away from inside, hurting dreadfully". Merricat's association of the village with "rot" denotes the putrid and erosive nature of the townspeople's hatred—equating their scorn with a disease that consumes and corrodes. The rot metaphor reflects a visceral repulsion and a sense of psychological decay that Merricat feels is imposed upon them by the village, turning it into a place of suffering rather than a communal haven.
The villagers’ collective malice towards the Blackwoods after the tragic death of their family members creates an undercurrent of tension every time the sisters have any interaction with the outside world. The village itself is not just a mere setting; it is personified as a malignant entity capable of intentional harm: "I wished it on the village". Here, Merricat’s thoughts indicate her desire to inflict the same kind of invisible, malevolent force upon the village that she perceives it has exacted on her family—a reflection of the mirroring hatred that develops in response to being ostracized and maligned.
The physical layout of the village reinforce this hostility. Where the Blackwood house is described with an introspective focus, providing solace and seclusion, the village is outwardly aggressive and intrusive, pressing onto the boundaries of the sisters' lives. In effect, the village becomes a bastion of collective societal judgment, a realm where norms are weaponized against those who stand outside them. Merricat's feelings towards the village underscore the deep division between her family and the community, and the village setting becomes a crucible for the larger themes of exclusion, otherness, and the potentially corrosive nature of community ties.
In summary, the village in Jackson's narrative is setting that invokes social hostility. It functions as an antagonist in the story, projecting collective spite and scrutiny upon the Blackwood sisters. Through the village setting, Jackson exemplifies the ever-present human threat that endangers the sanctuary of the Blackwood home and succinctly captures the duality of communities as sources of both support and persecution, benign interaction, and malignant ostracism. The village’s hostility establishes the omnipresent external forces that impinge upon the sisters' lives, cementing their isolation and underscoring the themes of societal alienation and survival amidst condemnation.
The garden
The garden in Shirley Jackson's "We Have Always Lived in the Castle" stands as a poignant symbol of the inner workings of the Blackwood family, reflecting the themes of nurturing and growth amidst the story's darker undertones. This setting enhances the narrative as a space where healing and care can occur, in stark contrast to the hostile world beyond the Blackwood property.
Constance Blackwood's actions within the garden reveal her compassion and the attention she invests to maintain life around her, despite the stunted emotional growth she endures within society: "We would not use it again until afternoon because almost all of our life was lived toward the back of the house on the lawn and the garden where no one else ever came". The garden provides a clearest expression of Constance's role as the nurturer, with her care extending to both the plants and her family members. The phrase “almost all of our life” suggests that the garden is integral to their well-being, a place where they can engage in the life-sustaining labor of nurturing and where the natural world flourishes under Constance's care – a living testament to her ability and willingness to foster growth.
The repeated reference to Constance's involvement with the garden underscores her resilience. Despite the traumatic past they cannot leave behind, life continues to blossom under her hands: "outside was Constance's chestnut tree and the wide lovely reach of lawn and Constance's flowers and then beyond the vegetable garden Constance tended". This expansion detailed after the chestnut tree—from flowers to the vegetable garden—depicts the Blackwood's enclosed utopia growing and sustaining itself, mirroring their survival. It serves as a microcosm of controlled growth, where Constance has the ability to yield abundance from the earth, an empowering aspect where she has tangible evidence of success and life against the backdrop of the death associated with the family tragedy.
The garden functions as a sanctuary from the villagers' scrutiny and symbolizes the preference for insular comfort over external exposure: "on the lawn and the garden where no one else ever came." This line illuminates the sisters' desire for seclusion, offering a domain uncontaminated by outside influences—a sharp contrast to the animosity they encounter beyond their homestead. The private nature of this setting within the property is a testament to the life they are attempting to lead—one that is insular and self-contained, away from judgment.
In summary, the garden in "We Have Always Lived in the Castle" cultivates meaning as it encapsulates the themes of nurturing and growth amidst adversity. It is a setting within which Constance exerts influence and finds some control, contrasting with the social sterility of the village's community. The garden, thus, becomes synonymous with the personal strength and resilience of the Blackwood sisters, growing and blooming against all odds, much like the plants that Constance tends so carefully. It is more than a setting; it is a statement of life's continuance and the possibility of regrowth, even when the world seems steadfastly decayed and hostile.