Please follow this link to a pdf of the very short story The Witch, by Shirley Jackson. Please read it (before reading the comments) and let me know what you think.
I'm not sure what I think of it. Did it have a point to it? The description was really great and you could just see the baby slowly toppling over (mine did that in the grocery carts all the time). There were a couple of awkward sentences but all in all the sentence construction contributed to the voice and old fashioned feeling.
Was the point that the little boy was looking outside for witches but that danger could be on the inside? Or that little boys are bloodthirsty creatures? Or that it was as wrong to imagine killing witches as it was to think it was funny to chop up a sister?
And amazingly compact, very efficient and effective writing.
I think the idea of some intruding diabolical entity influencing your family members to perform evil acts is a deeply frightening notion. This short story has that element in common with the most disturbing movie I've ever watched.
I'm not recommending this film, because I found it to be so difficult to sit through, but if you like that sort of thing, it was called Sinister. I think it starred Ethan Hawke.
It was disturbing. The old man loved his sister, then he told a 4 year old how he brutally ripped her apart. I did like the "he must be a witch" ending I suppose.
Shirley Jackson is a Stephen King of short stories. We read her in high school. The English class nun was one of the best teachers I ever had and wasn't afraid to have us read some weird stuff. Jackson's best short story, IMHO, is The Lottery. This is good, but I found The Lottery even more thought provoking.
The nun has us read Jackson because so much is up to interpretation. This man could be the kid as an adult. The witch representing the child's dark side working on him. And, soon the child will be killing his sister like his adult body told him about.
Like spinelli, Jackson's work was introduced to me in Catholic school by the nuns. I think the common thread of the inherent evilness of children fit into doctrine of the day quite well, and seemed to dovetail into catechism class.
I have not read this story for 30+ years, but it has always stuck with me. I found it hilarious. This woman is sitting peacefully with her children, and this nice little old man starts telling what he 'did' to his little sister. The hilarity is that you don't know if he's telling the truth, or just being ironic. You don't know if the little boy really does shrug it off, or if it plants a seed.
At the time, I showed it to my best friend, a guy, and to my sister. Neither were impressed and didn't see any point.
I'm going now to go re-read it for the first time.
The vagaries of memory. My memory of the very ending was the mother being worried, and the little boy impatiently saying saying to her the eqivalent of 'he wasn't serious.'
Anyway, it's a good read, although in reality at the start of the man's story the mother would have jumped out of her seat and put an end to it, regardless of her daughter's fussing.
I always found The Lottery tedious. There wasn't a logical explanation for the need of it. Or is my memory faulty again :)
A lot of Shirley Jackson's stories have this sort of theme- the evil that resides inside us. She was kind of crazy in real life. Maybe her stories were her way of trying to work through that struggle with the bad side of our natures.
I agree The Lottery is her best work. She manages to bring it all together most effectively in that story. Her novel, The Haunting of Hill House is good, too.
She is a lot like Flannery O'Connor in that she's fascinated with our unredeemed nature, but she leans more toward the world of ghosts and witches than angels and God.
Pasta, the only horror movie that ever scared me, and I really don't watch them, was Omen II. I came home from the theater, and went to bed with a crucifix.
I am still unable to open and read that link. It goes to a word doc which downloads but opens with an unintelligible font--all Lucky Charms: hearts, spades, diamonds, clovers.
I tried googling it elsewhere but others just link to the same word doc.
The story reminded me of the short Goethe poem called The Elfking. It shares the same elements: a parent and child enroute and a sinister force. The German story ends more tragically:
Who rides, so late, through night and wind? It is the father with his child. He has the boy well in his arm He holds him safely, he keeps him warm.
"My son, why do you hide your face so anxiously?" "Father, do you not see the Elfking? The Elfking with crown and tail?" "My son, it's a wisp of fog."
"You dear child, come, go with me! Very lovely games I'll play with you; Some colourful flowers are on the beach, My mother has some golden robes."
"My father, my father, and don't you hear What the Elfking quietly promises me?" "Be calm, stay calm, my child; The wind is rustling through withered leaves."
"Do you want to come with me, pretty boy? My daughters shall wait on you finely; My daughters will lead the nightly dance, And rock and dance and sing you to sleep."
"My father, my father, and don't you see there The Elfking's daughters in the gloomy place?" "My son, my son, I see it clearly: There shimmer the old willows so grey."
"I love you, your beautiful form entices me; And if you're not willing, then I will use force." "My father, my father, he's grabbing me now! The Elfking has done me harm!"
It horrifies the father; he swiftly rides on, He holds the moaning child in his arms, Reaches the farm with trouble and hardship; In his arms, the child was dead.
Chick, I know a different translation, from a book of scary stories and poems, from when I was a kid. I found this, but the person is quoting from memory...sounds quite accurate:
Who rides so late in a nite so wild. A Father is riding with his child. He clasps the boy close in his arms. He holds him tightly. He keeps him warm
My son, you are trembling, what do you fear? Look Father, the Earl king, he is coming near. With his crown and his shroud, yes that is he. My son, it's only the mist you see.
Oh dear boy, oh come with me. Such games we'll play, so glad we'll be. Such flowers to pick, such sights to behold. My mother will make you clothes of gold.
Oh Father, my Father, do you not hear? The Earl King whispering in my ear? Lie still my son, lie quietly. It's only the wind in the leaves of the tree.
Oh dear boy, if you will come away, My daughters will waith on you every day. They'll give you the prettiest presents to keep. They'll dance when you wake, and sing you to sleep.
Oh Father, my Father, do you not see? The Earl King's pale daughters waiting for me? My son, my son, I see what you say. The willow is waving its branches of grey.
Oh dear boy, oh come with me without fear or remorse, and if you're not willing, I'll take you by force. Oh Father, my Father, tighten your hold. The Earl King has caught me, his fingers are cold.
The father shutters, he spurs on his steed. He carries the child with desperate speed. He reaches the courtyard and looks down with dread. There in his arms, the boy lies dead.
32 comments:
My windows word opened it when I clicked on the link.
fyi.
I'm not sure what I think of it. Did it have a point to it? The description was really great and you could just see the baby slowly toppling over (mine did that in the grocery carts all the time). There were a couple of awkward sentences but all in all the sentence construction contributed to the voice and old fashioned feeling.
Was the point that the little boy was looking outside for witches but that danger could be on the inside? Or that little boys are bloodthirsty creatures? Or that it was as wrong to imagine killing witches as it was to think it was funny to chop up a sister?
That was disturbing.
And amazingly compact, very efficient and effective writing.
I think the idea of some intruding diabolical entity influencing your family members to perform evil acts is a deeply frightening notion. This short story has that element in common with the most disturbing movie I've ever watched.
I'm not recommending this film, because I found it to be so difficult to sit through, but if you like that sort of thing, it was called Sinister. I think it starred Ethan Hawke.
Something to do with a lollipop...
It was disturbing. The old man loved his sister, then he told a 4 year old how he brutally ripped her apart.
I did like the "he must be a witch" ending I suppose.
Shirley Jackson is a Stephen King of short stories. We read her in high school. The English class nun was one of the best teachers I ever had and wasn't afraid to have us read some weird stuff. Jackson's best short story, IMHO, is The Lottery. This is good, but I found The Lottery even more thought provoking.
The nun has us read Jackson because so much is up to interpretation. This man could be the kid as an adult. The witch representing the child's dark side working on him. And, soon the child will be killing his sister like his adult body told him about.
Great post, Deborah.
Sort of Flannery O'Connor-ish, without God.
Like spinelli, Jackson's work was introduced to me in Catholic school by the nuns. I think the common thread of the inherent evilness of children fit into doctrine of the day quite well, and seemed to dovetail into catechism class.
I liked the Lottery very much. I should not say liked, but remembered it. I had not read this story before.
I have not read this story for 30+ years, but it has always stuck with me. I found it hilarious. This woman is sitting peacefully with her children, and this nice little old man starts telling what he 'did' to his little sister. The hilarity is that you don't know if he's telling the truth, or just being ironic. You don't know if the little boy really does shrug it off, or if it plants a seed.
At the time, I showed it to my best friend, a guy, and to my sister. Neither were impressed and didn't see any point.
I'm going now to go re-read it for the first time.
The vagaries of memory. My memory of the very ending was the mother being worried, and the little boy impatiently saying saying to her the eqivalent of 'he wasn't serious.'
Anyway, it's a good read, although in reality at the start of the man's story the mother would have jumped out of her seat and put an end to it, regardless of her daughter's fussing.
I always found The Lottery tedious. There wasn't a logical explanation for the need of it. Or is my memory faulty again :)
A lot of Shirley Jackson's stories have this sort of theme- the evil that resides inside us. She was kind of crazy in real life. Maybe her stories were her way of trying to work through that struggle with the bad side of our natures.
I agree The Lottery is her best work. She manages to bring it all together most effectively in that story. Her novel, The Haunting of Hill House is good, too.
She is a lot like Flannery O'Connor in that she's fascinated with our unredeemed nature, but she leans more toward the world of ghosts and witches than angels and God.
Haven't read The Lottery for over 36 years...I'll give it another go.
Adore what little I've read of O'Connor. 'A Good Man is Hard to Find' blew. me. away.
I got the same results as Lem. A word doc opens and then it opens to gibberish.
Sorry, chick, I thought it was fixed. You should be able to google it pretty easily.
Pasta, the only horror movie that ever scared me, and I really don't watch them, was Omen II. I came home from the theater, and went to bed with a crucifix.
Shirley Jackson wrote The Lottery. I read it in what -- 9th grade?
So I'm not reading Shirley Jackson anything, and I'll read the comments sometime later.
Deborah, Only for you. Merry Christmas.
Was it that bad, JAL :)
Belatedly, thanks Lem for the heads-up on the link.
I am still unable to open and read that link. It goes to a word doc which downloads but opens with an unintelligible font--all Lucky Charms: hearts, spades, diamonds, clovers.
I tried googling it elsewhere but others just link to the same word doc.
Odd.
I'll try and look around, chick. Wait, what if you copy that font into an HTML format?
I'll keep looking.
I finally fixed it and read it.
The story reminded me of the short Goethe poem called The Elfking. It shares the same elements: a parent and child enroute and a sinister force. The German story ends more tragically:
Who rides, so late, through night and wind?
It is the father with his child.
He has the boy well in his arm
He holds him safely, he keeps him warm.
"My son, why do you hide your face so anxiously?"
"Father, do you not see the Elfking?
The Elfking with crown and tail?"
"My son, it's a wisp of fog."
"You dear child, come, go with me!
Very lovely games I'll play with you;
Some colourful flowers are on the beach,
My mother has some golden robes."
"My father, my father, and don't you hear
What the Elfking quietly promises me?"
"Be calm, stay calm, my child;
The wind is rustling through withered leaves."
"Do you want to come with me, pretty boy?
My daughters shall wait on you finely;
My daughters will lead the nightly dance,
And rock and dance and sing you to sleep."
"My father, my father, and don't you see there
The Elfking's daughters in the gloomy place?"
"My son, my son, I see it clearly:
There shimmer the old willows so grey."
"I love you, your beautiful form entices me;
And if you're not willing, then I will use force."
"My father, my father, he's grabbing me now!
The Elfking has done me harm!"
It horrifies the father; he swiftly rides on,
He holds the moaning child in his arms,
Reaches the farm with trouble and hardship;
In his arms, the child was dead.
Chick, I know a different translation, from a book of scary stories and poems, from when I was a kid. I found this, but the person is quoting from memory...sounds quite accurate:
Who rides so late in a nite so wild.
A Father is riding with his child.
He clasps the boy close in his arms.
He holds him tightly. He keeps him warm
My son, you are trembling, what do you fear?
Look Father, the Earl king, he is coming near.
With his crown and his shroud, yes that is he.
My son, it's only the mist you see.
Oh dear boy, oh come with me.
Such games we'll play, so glad we'll be.
Such flowers to pick, such sights to behold.
My mother will make you clothes of gold.
Oh Father, my Father, do you not hear?
The Earl King whispering in my ear?
Lie still my son, lie quietly.
It's only the wind in the leaves of the tree.
Oh dear boy, if you will come away,
My daughters will waith on you every day.
They'll give you the prettiest presents to keep.
They'll dance when you wake, and sing you to sleep.
Oh Father, my Father, do you not see?
The Earl King's pale daughters waiting for me?
My son, my son, I see what you say.
The willow is waving its branches of grey.
Oh dear boy, oh come with me without fear or remorse,
and if you're not willing, I'll take you by force.
Oh Father, my Father, tighten your hold.
The Earl King has caught me, his fingers are cold.
The father shutters, he spurs on his steed.
He carries the child with desperate speed.
He reaches the courtyard and looks down with dread.
There in his arms, the boy lies dead.
A side-by-side comparison of translations: link.
Danke schoen, chick :)
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