Every time I hear, you mention the abundance of adverbs in the writing, I think of Stephen King’s quote from his book On Writing..”I believe the road to hell is paved with adverbs, and I will shout it from the rooftops. To put it another way, they're like dandelions.”
Oct 23, 2023·edited Oct 23, 2023Liked by Ruth Franklin
I really enjoyed that intro paragraph, too, Ruth. And thanks for noting the doubling of the question at the end, with it's differing emphasis. Modern science has shown that trees and plants do respond to humans and other animals, and if Hill House can covet and affect Eleanor than why not nature? I am so glad for her moment of freedom and her brief moment of "overwhelming wild happiness."
I also love Eleanor's piercing insights amidst the chaos: "Poor Dr Montague...he is so uncomfortable; I wonder how long she is going to stay." And when she concurs w Arthur, to Theo, that Luke is a coward.
But my favorite part of this is the introduction of my favorite minor character.
"Please, sir," Luke was saying meekly, "who is planchette?"
I find it hilarious that Mrs. M carries on about planchette as if it were a person. I was so disappointed that The 1963 Haunting film didn't include her wittering on about planchette.
I was also most struck by the first paragraph. Eleanor ‘wanting only to be secret and out from under the heavy dark wood of the house’ makes the house feel like a coffin. When she lies down on the spot on the ground it feels like a grave. And yet she isn't rooted, is in fact 'heartbreakingly mobile' (great adverb!). She looks up into a (the daisy's) dead face, as so often here a reversal of what's expected. The final question is repeated but with a different intonation due both to the repetition and the italics in the first iteration: 'What *am* I going to do? What am I going to do?' Does the emphasis move from 'am' to 'do' in the second question? From being to doing?
Mrs. Montague! I love how her presence recalibrates the whole setting, & casts each character into their most vulnerable lights.
The first part of this chapter has always been for me one of the most memorable moments of the book. Apart-from, in a state of longing, Eleanor finds her wild happiness. Amidst & inside: no.
I love the arrival of Mrs Montague and Arthur. It's so funny, but I also find it unsettling. Even as I'm in hysterics about Mrs Montague's anthropomorphism of planchette, I still sense the oppression and malevolence of Hill House and it feels a bit wrong to laugh. What does it mean that these two aren't immediately sensing what the others have? How will they fair at Hill House?
Following what so many readers have already said, the arrival of Mrs Montague and Arthur is brilliantly written. For me it was like opening a door to someone whose breath was unbrushed teeth, raw onions and garlic, rancid coffee, maybe some bourbon….Can’t wait for the next round. And yes, Eleanor seems even more out of control of her life.
One of the things I most value about APS Together is the opportunity to hear and voice--and consider--dissent in a supportive environment. Mrs. Montague and Arthur didn’t work for me ([P]lanchette did). They felt like broadly-drawn caricatures, lacking the depth of characterization that Jackson devotes to most of her other characters. But hearing this chorus of support for these two makes me reconsider, devote more thought to trying to understand Jackson’s purpose in their inclusion, rather than judging their worth as characters. On further reflection, I’m forced to admit that they are the norm, not the exception, in her minor characters: the Dudleys, Carrie and her husband, the “witch,” the diner’s diner and waitress. They’re all caricatures. And I wonder why? Is this an indication of how Eleanor processes the world? Storytelling shorthand, to keep the focus on her mains? To demonstrate the profound effect Hill House wreaks on more complicated characters?
When reading the first part, I came back to the first paragraph of the novel, where Hill House stands by itself against "its" hills. Eleanor escapes the house up into the hills, and feels wild happiness, but has she actually escaped the house? Or is this another instance of her feeling at home with Hill House, in its Hills?
I was also struck by the phrase "so unfortunate as not to be rooted in the ground"--Eleanor longs for a home, and the last sections have told her to go home, but she has no roots to follow
Reading the section about Eleanor in the flowers and her joy at the thought of death, I was (still am) tempted to overlay the death-rebirth continuum motif (think ouroborous - snake eating its tale) or "death as transformation" motif, both of which in Jungian psychology (which I fully admit is not everyone's cup of tea) points to transformation and the proess of individuation. But, I'm not sure these motifs apply here (or do they? the ouroborous is definitely macabre and she seems to be, in relation to the house, consuming herself). Eleanor is dissintegrating and maybe her only wholeness will come from complete communion with the house? Her ultimate (only) lover? Jackson has already told us she was looking for a place to belong and had waited all her life for a place like Hill House. So, if this is the way she is going to crumble and it gives her joy, however odd, who are we to judge! This is not a criticism at all, of the story. I love that we are heading down a dark path towards some resolution for Eleanor that she has wished for (but has she really?) that likely I wouldn't ever ever wish upon myself.
My mind also keeps returning to the first paragraph of the chapter - although, it never seemed like a "throw away" to me. Am I sentimental, naïve, a bit “mad” in experiencing this scene as the essence of Eleanor and her “heart-breakingly mobile” reality; a “creation” seeking “gentle embrace” rooted within a home in which the “natural [order of] things” is the “pressing occupation of growing and dying.” She allows herself to feel an “overwhelming wild happiness” when momentarily “rooted” amidst the “oddly courteous air” of “the trees and wild flowers.” I find peace in envisioning Eleanor [and myself?] in “a little contained world all her own.” Ahh, the momentary sanctity of “be[ing] alone to think,” of time slowing, allowing one’s thoughts space to ponder, “What am I going to do?” Is Eleanor “Lost. Lost. Lost.” or can/will she embrace a home “found sitting in joyful loneliness”?
I too was struck by Eleanor's paragraph. As much as she wants to belong, I think she is solitary and happiest when alone, "wanting only to be secret." The "joyful loneliness" of her road trip comes to mind. And when she lies down on the grass and wonders how long it has been since she last did so, I am reminded of her "aching memories of her early childhood, when it had seemed to be summer all the time." I imagine a child given to day dreaming and solitary play. Sadly, I think her family and the people she's encountered thus far have only made solitude more appealing. It's partly her nature, but the world isn't exactly tempting her out of it. At the same time, she still yearns for others, or at least for variety--experience--and her loneliness is not always joyful. I love the sentence about "the trees and wildflowers, with that oddly courteous air of natural things" showing a gentle regard for this "heart-breakingly mobile" (and homeless) creature.
I enjoyed Mrs. Montague and Arthur's entrance--Arthur with his golf clubs, "just in case." But I soon tired of them. Did Jackson decide she needed this levity and brash matter-of-factness to balance or augment (by contrast) the creepiness and the haunting the others are experiencing?
I agree that the people in her life so far have made solitude her preference. So much of life is chance, especially the group you’re “assigned” to in life. I wonder how different Eleanor would have been, had she lived in different circumstances. That’s a somewhat trite observation on my part, since it could be said of anyone, but I see Eleanor largely as a “victim of circumstances”.
Mrs. Montague certainly is a piece of work. I love the doctors description of what a good wife she is. Jacksonust have had fun writing it! But, Mrs. May on factory be psychic. She does pick up on Eleonor's emotions.
Mrs Montague is comedy gold -- nuns buried behind the wall 💀 But just not believable that she’s still married to the doctor.
Every time I hear, you mention the abundance of adverbs in the writing, I think of Stephen King’s quote from his book On Writing..”I believe the road to hell is paved with adverbs, and I will shout it from the rooftops. To put it another way, they're like dandelions.”
I really enjoyed that intro paragraph, too, Ruth. And thanks for noting the doubling of the question at the end, with it's differing emphasis. Modern science has shown that trees and plants do respond to humans and other animals, and if Hill House can covet and affect Eleanor than why not nature? I am so glad for her moment of freedom and her brief moment of "overwhelming wild happiness."
I also love Eleanor's piercing insights amidst the chaos: "Poor Dr Montague...he is so uncomfortable; I wonder how long she is going to stay." And when she concurs w Arthur, to Theo, that Luke is a coward.
But my favorite part of this is the introduction of my favorite minor character.
"Please, sir," Luke was saying meekly, "who is planchette?"
I find it hilarious that Mrs. M carries on about planchette as if it were a person. I was so disappointed that The 1963 Haunting film didn't include her wittering on about planchette.
I was also most struck by the first paragraph. Eleanor ‘wanting only to be secret and out from under the heavy dark wood of the house’ makes the house feel like a coffin. When she lies down on the spot on the ground it feels like a grave. And yet she isn't rooted, is in fact 'heartbreakingly mobile' (great adverb!). She looks up into a (the daisy's) dead face, as so often here a reversal of what's expected. The final question is repeated but with a different intonation due both to the repetition and the italics in the first iteration: 'What *am* I going to do? What am I going to do?' Does the emphasis move from 'am' to 'do' in the second question? From being to doing?
Mrs. Montague! I love how her presence recalibrates the whole setting, & casts each character into their most vulnerable lights.
The first part of this chapter has always been for me one of the most memorable moments of the book. Apart-from, in a state of longing, Eleanor finds her wild happiness. Amidst & inside: no.
I love the arrival of Mrs Montague and Arthur. It's so funny, but I also find it unsettling. Even as I'm in hysterics about Mrs Montague's anthropomorphism of planchette, I still sense the oppression and malevolence of Hill House and it feels a bit wrong to laugh. What does it mean that these two aren't immediately sensing what the others have? How will they fair at Hill House?
Following what so many readers have already said, the arrival of Mrs Montague and Arthur is brilliantly written. For me it was like opening a door to someone whose breath was unbrushed teeth, raw onions and garlic, rancid coffee, maybe some bourbon….Can’t wait for the next round. And yes, Eleanor seems even more out of control of her life.
One of the things I most value about APS Together is the opportunity to hear and voice--and consider--dissent in a supportive environment. Mrs. Montague and Arthur didn’t work for me ([P]lanchette did). They felt like broadly-drawn caricatures, lacking the depth of characterization that Jackson devotes to most of her other characters. But hearing this chorus of support for these two makes me reconsider, devote more thought to trying to understand Jackson’s purpose in their inclusion, rather than judging their worth as characters. On further reflection, I’m forced to admit that they are the norm, not the exception, in her minor characters: the Dudleys, Carrie and her husband, the “witch,” the diner’s diner and waitress. They’re all caricatures. And I wonder why? Is this an indication of how Eleanor processes the world? Storytelling shorthand, to keep the focus on her mains? To demonstrate the profound effect Hill House wreaks on more complicated characters?
When reading the first part, I came back to the first paragraph of the novel, where Hill House stands by itself against "its" hills. Eleanor escapes the house up into the hills, and feels wild happiness, but has she actually escaped the house? Or is this another instance of her feeling at home with Hill House, in its Hills?
I was also struck by the phrase "so unfortunate as not to be rooted in the ground"--Eleanor longs for a home, and the last sections have told her to go home, but she has no roots to follow
Reading the section about Eleanor in the flowers and her joy at the thought of death, I was (still am) tempted to overlay the death-rebirth continuum motif (think ouroborous - snake eating its tale) or "death as transformation" motif, both of which in Jungian psychology (which I fully admit is not everyone's cup of tea) points to transformation and the proess of individuation. But, I'm not sure these motifs apply here (or do they? the ouroborous is definitely macabre and she seems to be, in relation to the house, consuming herself). Eleanor is dissintegrating and maybe her only wholeness will come from complete communion with the house? Her ultimate (only) lover? Jackson has already told us she was looking for a place to belong and had waited all her life for a place like Hill House. So, if this is the way she is going to crumble and it gives her joy, however odd, who are we to judge! This is not a criticism at all, of the story. I love that we are heading down a dark path towards some resolution for Eleanor that she has wished for (but has she really?) that likely I wouldn't ever ever wish upon myself.
“There was nothing in her mind beyond an overwhelming wild happiness”. If so, our Eleanor is self-delusional beyond measure.
My mind also keeps returning to the first paragraph of the chapter - although, it never seemed like a "throw away" to me. Am I sentimental, naïve, a bit “mad” in experiencing this scene as the essence of Eleanor and her “heart-breakingly mobile” reality; a “creation” seeking “gentle embrace” rooted within a home in which the “natural [order of] things” is the “pressing occupation of growing and dying.” She allows herself to feel an “overwhelming wild happiness” when momentarily “rooted” amidst the “oddly courteous air” of “the trees and wild flowers.” I find peace in envisioning Eleanor [and myself?] in “a little contained world all her own.” Ahh, the momentary sanctity of “be[ing] alone to think,” of time slowing, allowing one’s thoughts space to ponder, “What am I going to do?” Is Eleanor “Lost. Lost. Lost.” or can/will she embrace a home “found sitting in joyful loneliness”?
I too was struck by Eleanor's paragraph. As much as she wants to belong, I think she is solitary and happiest when alone, "wanting only to be secret." The "joyful loneliness" of her road trip comes to mind. And when she lies down on the grass and wonders how long it has been since she last did so, I am reminded of her "aching memories of her early childhood, when it had seemed to be summer all the time." I imagine a child given to day dreaming and solitary play. Sadly, I think her family and the people she's encountered thus far have only made solitude more appealing. It's partly her nature, but the world isn't exactly tempting her out of it. At the same time, she still yearns for others, or at least for variety--experience--and her loneliness is not always joyful. I love the sentence about "the trees and wildflowers, with that oddly courteous air of natural things" showing a gentle regard for this "heart-breakingly mobile" (and homeless) creature.
I enjoyed Mrs. Montague and Arthur's entrance--Arthur with his golf clubs, "just in case." But I soon tired of them. Did Jackson decide she needed this levity and brash matter-of-factness to balance or augment (by contrast) the creepiness and the haunting the others are experiencing?
I agree that the people in her life so far have made solitude her preference. So much of life is chance, especially the group you’re “assigned” to in life. I wonder how different Eleanor would have been, had she lived in different circumstances. That’s a somewhat trite observation on my part, since it could be said of anyone, but I see Eleanor largely as a “victim of circumstances”.
Mrs. Montague certainly is a piece of work. I love the doctors description of what a good wife she is. Jacksonust have had fun writing it! But, Mrs. May on factory be psychic. She does pick up on Eleonor's emotions.