Blog option #4
Shirley Jackson’s We Have Always Lived in the Castle
reminded me of a childhood mystery. I have learned that rumors can become
extreme in a close-knit area like the town that the Blackwoods lived in. As we
learn in the end of the story, the town’s perception of Constance was
completely wrong, as is the perception that I grew up with about the man who
lived on the corner of my street, named Roger.
I have lived in the same
neighborhood since I was born and when I was five my family moved to a
different street. At the end of this street lived a man. He was creepy and no
one knew anything about him except that he would always come out of his house
to watch us kids playing in the street. Sometimes he would get angry towards us
or accuse us of going into his yard and ruining his plants and pulling the
lemons off of his tree. We were all extremely frightened of him and would go to
great lengths to stay as far away from any interaction with him or his house.
Sometimes we would even run by his house when we had to pass by it. As we got
older we started to taunt him and as we would run by we would all scream to
make him come out of his house and get angry. In a way we taunted him like the
kids did to Constance and Merricat with the song that they sang in the book.
I have always wondered if Roger knew of the rumors that we told each other or if he felt about us just how Merricat felt about the rest of her town, that "It was enough to feel them all there in the back of me without looking into the flat grey faces with the hating eyes" (Jackson, p.8). Or if he watched us looking at his house when we didn't know he was there, as the sisters do in the end of the story.
The rumors about this man were
endless among the neighborhood children my age. Things like he had a mail
ordered bride from Russia, because she didn’t speak any English. He made her go
blind because she walked with a cane whenever she came outside, which was
seldom and then when she stopped being seen the rumors grew larger. He randomly
built a Jacuzzi into his backyard and we thought that he built it over her
buried body.
Now being older and more
enlightened, I realize that he is probably just a normal man living alone with
nothing better to do. However, to this day Roger is a running joke among the
friends that I still have from my neighborhood and we still tend to veer away
from encounters with him if we see him around the neighborhood. The rumors have
lived on with the younger kids in the neighborhood and will probably stay
around as long as he continues to live in the house on the corner of my street
just like the rumors about the Blackwoods, Constance and Merricat in particular,
will live on forever in their town.
Reference:
Jackson,
Shirley. We Have Always Lived in the Castle. New York: Viking, 1962.
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