We Have Always Lived in the Castle (Penguin Classics Deluxe Edition)

Brilliant

We Have Always Lived in the Castle is a deeply psychological novel that explores fear, isolation, and the damage caused by control and neglect. I found Merricat to be a partly reliable narrator — her facts are true, yet everything she tells us is coloured by fear, imagination, and magical thinking. Her fascination with powerful figures like Richard Plantagenet and the poisonous death-cap mushroom reflects her desire for strength and safety in a world that has always hurt her. Constance, in contrast, represents endurance and quiet constancy; despite years of emotional abuse and endless housework, she remains gentle and protective. The Blackwood parents were cold and controlling, keeping the children cut off from the world, and that isolation became its own form of cruelty. I first thought the sisters were simply grieving and depressed after the family tragedy, but as the story unfolded, I realised they were actually victims of long-term abuse and deep emotional neglect from childhood. The murders, to me, were not a sign of evil, but a desperate act of escape from a life that felt like a prison. The arrogance of the Blackwood father, as the head of the family, and his failure to build any bond with the local people — together with his refusal even to pay servants — created deep resentment in the village. The townspeople’s later destruction of the house felt like an explosion of long-suppressed anger — and strangely, a moment of release. In a way, both the villagers and the sisters were victims of the father’s pride and neglect. This reflects a larger truth: society often releases its anger on vulnerable people. Even in real life, artists, authors, scientists, intellectuals, politicians, and anyone who chooses to act differently can become targets of collective resentment or mob anger. When the villagers bring food at the end, it feels as if they finally understand the sisters’ pain and find their own peace in that understanding. I think Jackson shows how cruelty and neglect, whether within a family or a community, spread like poison — and how even in ruins, the wish for peace and safety can still survive. As for Merricat’s final words — “We are so happy” — I don’t believe they ever truly knew what happiness meant. They had never been loved, never had friends, and never felt free from judgement. But at the end, when they close themselves away from the world, what they feel is peace — the peace of finally being safe from harm, insult, or punishment. For them, that peace is happiness. And for me, that closing line is one of the most haunting and moving in modern literature. I gave this book ten stars without hesitation.

This was an odd one. As I read this I forgot that Meerkat was 18. She clearly had the mind of a child and I felt like there was a lot of trauma there that caused her to act the way she did and have the thoughts she did. I feel for Constance, there was more to her agoraphobia and I'm sure some sort of trauma for her as well. Cousin Charles and the town people deeply annoyed me. They were gossips and such awful humans. For such a short story there was plenty to take in with this one.

DNF

I think I was a little let down because I was hoping for something supernatural, but the real "scares" here are prejudice, mob mentality, and young girls with a loose grip of reality.