Sisterhood, Isolation, and Witchcraft - The Ways 'We Have Always Lived In The Castle' Remains Relevant 60 Years Later
Published in 1962, 'We Have Always Lived in the Castle' is Shirley Jackson’s sixth and final novel. Whether you recognise her name or not, you probably know of Jackson’s work from the Netflix adaptation of The Haunting of Hill House[published in 1954]. Technically, 'We Have Always Lived in the Castle' is more of a novella than a novel, clocking in at just over 200 pages. You can also find it for less than a pound on Apple Books - making it an ideal choice if you’re bored and looking for something you can finish in a day.
The narrative follows 18-year-old Merricat, who lives with her older sister Constance. Everyone else in their family is dead. Merricat begins to relate the events after their last normal Friday, and let me tell you, Constance and Merricat Blackwood live unusual lives... to say the least. Merricat ventures into their local village twice weekly, while Constance remains at home, a ghost to society, with their Uncle Julian. Don’t be confused; I know that only a sentence prior, I told you the sisters were the only living members of their family. The preceding events of the text occur five months earlier than Merricat’s introduction to the story.
The trio maintain an odd routine, seemingly stuck replaying a day six years ago. The day when most of their family died and Julian became disabled - poisoned at their dinner table. Almost everyone who lives in their village believes Constance to be the culprit - even though she faced trial and avoided conviction. When she isn’t journeying into the village, Merricat passes her time practicing magic - burying items in their garden, nailing books to trees, and ensuring the perimeter of their home is protected. Constance remains homebound, cooking and maintaining the house, and adopting an increasing interest in the outside world… Much to Merricat’s displeasure. Their routine becomes irreparably disrupted when their cousin Charles comes to visit.
Charles invades this [aside from Uncle Julian] female space, attempting to claim not only the house but the people inside of it as his possession. He is only concerned with the material value of the house and how he can enjoy the labour Constance does - he constantly demands her attention, which drives a division between the sisters.
Sisterhood and female solidarity are the main concerns of the text. Contrasted against the sterile, violent, male-dominated materialistic consumerism. The sisters do not care for their house because of its expensive decoration, or the safe stacked with money in their father’s study. They care for this house because it makes them feel safe and protected. It is isolated, it contains one another, and it provides them with a place to eat, sleep, and laugh.
'We Have Always Lived in the Castle' is one of the few books to have a surprisingly competent movie adaptation. This adaptation particularly holds its own as a piece of media due to its ability to expand upon the source material. It develops Jackson’s novel without losing the essence at the heart of her work. Directed by Stacie Passon, the 2018 film retains all the crucial elements which cement the original text as a modern classic within the gothic literary genre: the domineering, isolated Blackwood house, which features as the main location throughout the narrative; the tragic demise of Merricat and Constance’s family members and disabling of Uncle Julian; the ghosts which linger within the walls of the house, despite not physically appearing; Merricat’s witchcraft. The list goes on... Jackson is a powerhouse within the genre, so it is no surprise that she puts all 200 pages of her final novel to good use.
Alexandra Daddario as Constance
Charles’ arrival at the house is a pivotal narrative point in both the novel and the film. Merricat begs Constance to leave their space untainted, to refuse his entry… yet he is let in, and then he refuses to leave. As their blood relation, Charles forgoes the boundaries the sisters erect to keep the villagers out. He physically resembles their father; he sits in their father’s chair at the dining table, he sleeps in their father’s bedroom, and he wears their father’s watch after removing it from a tree - nailed there by Merricat to protect the house. We never directly learn how exactly Merricat and Constace’s father behaved, but it is inferred if you read between the lines of the text. One can see echoes of this behaviour in the ways Charles acts. Claiming this territory as his own to use and abuse however he likes. He attempts to impose rules and punishments on Merricat while expecting Constance to wait on his every beck and call.
Trigger warning for the following paragraphs as they contain discussions of SA.
The Blackwood house can be read as representative of their bodies - this is a safe space for which Merricat works endlessly to secure. Hiding the women away from any judgemental eyes or violent fists which might cause them harm. Charles’ unwelcome entrance into the house becomes a form of unwanted penetration... violating the safety and cleanliness Merricat has worked so hard to achieve. Passon’s adaptation elaborates upon this metaphor, adding a scene between Merricat and Charles towards the story’s climax. Tension brews at the dinner table. Uncle Julian repeatedly mistakes Charles for Constance and Merricat’s father. Constance attempts to maintain civility - barely keeping herself together. Charles lunges, and here, the film enacts the male violence lurking beneath the surface of the novel. Charles drags Merricat out of the kitchen and up the stairs by the neck. The painted eyes of past Blackwood men look on while Charles perpetuates the abuse we can only assume they started.
Both the film and the book repeatedly remind its audience that humanity is the villain here. Nature protects and cleanses. Outside society, particularly its men, are consumed by materialistic desires, driven by monetary goals. All the Blackwoods want is to be left alone. Uncle Julian, incapacitated and repeatedly feminised, evades the stroke with which the narrative paints most of its male characters. Although, from conversations between Constance and Julian, Jackson implies that before his poisoning, Julian was equally implicated in male toxicity.
Despite all Merricat’s efforts and attempts at protection, the sisters cannot escape the inherent evil and tragedy of life. Yet, they still find company and solace in their sister. A fire rids their house of the unwanted presence of Charles, and Merricat adopts new routines with new forms of protection. Despite the futility of our work, we somehow find a way to continue. We find a way to be happy.
I love this book, and the film came as a pleasant surprise. So many book-to-film adaptations have left me wishing they didn’t bother making it. This one is not like the others. This one is worthy of your time. Over six decades after its initial release, 'We Have Always Lived In the Castle' remains a poignant reminder that despite all the horror we must endure in life, it's the little things, the sisterhood we find, that make life worth living. I know I could not cope without mine, both my family from birth and family found along the way.
