Hi everyone! I read ahead and wrote these comments last night, and am posting them first thing this morning due to time constraints today. I’m just loving this group so much, and am so sad it’s almost over.
First off!!! When I read the macabre song that Luke sings to Theo, I knew I had read about it before, and thought about it- and remembered that SJ would sing a lullaby about a murderer to her children in her darkly humorous way. Was this it? (No, I didn’t look in Ruth’s book. I made a pact with myself I wouldn’t do that for this group)- but I did a search on You Tube to hear the song- and I found a You Tube video of SARAH JACKSON, Shirley Jackson’s daughter, SINGING THE SONG!!!!!! If Ruth already posted this, my apologies, but I’m posting it here. Enjoy 😉
These sections are short. The pacing is faster; more clipped. Like we’re being led quickly to the grand crescendo/finale, even though not a lot of action happens here.
I also found 2 versions of the song that E. hears in the center of the parlor that was a children’s circle game. I’m not sure if SJ changed the lyric to “Lover,” because all I could find was “partner.”
I’ll see if I can post one of the videos of that song.
My question regarding this is: Why does Theo want Luke to sing it to her? Are they messing with E? Is this all in E’s mind? I’m thinking we may have gone completely “unreliable narrator” at this point, if we haven’t already- Lol.
Just prior to this scene, we had the comic relief of Mrs. M nagging Dr. M.
And then after the scene with Theo and Luke, the hilarious scene with Dr. M. and Arthur in the library. It would seem Arthur needs a break from Mrs. M as well, and cannot read Dr. M’s obvious social cues to leave him alone.
MRS. DUDLEY CAN CONVERSE!!! What a revelation! And we were all so worried about her.😂. Of course, it’s with Mrs. M about the inappropriateness of the guests of opposite sexes staying at HH together. Or, since E. is listening in on this conversation, is this conversation even real?! Is E. now fantasizing about romance and sex (our guilt about it) since she had the experience of being held by the invisible presence? Did it stir up sexual or even romantic feelings in her?
Final section:
(If any of this is reality, or a vision in E’s mind at this point, who knows?)
Theo is wearing E’s (wait for it) BLUE DRESS- !!!!!!!!!
(Please Ruth!!! Help me with all the blue; especially the blue dresses that so many of SJ’s protagonist’s wear. If you missed one of my earlier posts, I am absolutely haunted by all the the blue dresses so many of SJ’s female protagonists wear in her novels and stories-I have some ideas on the earlier post.. )
But I digress.
Theo is mocking her.
She uses alliteration with “E” for “Eleanor”
“Ethereal” who
“Lives in Expectation”
E. can hear all sounds in house, even down to the the dust in attic. (Doesn’t dust come from dead skin?) But she can’t hear anything in the Library. (The one room she was too frightened or repulsed to enter)
And then, this is when, above the bickering of Dr. and Mrs. M., she hears the circle dance song, and after the line “Go forth and face your Lover,” she feels the unseen figure come to her, brush against her check, and sigh on her face as it passes by.
She’s being seduced by her Deamon Lover. I think it’s the House.
Just a side note: I mentioned in an earlier comment about the deck of Tarot cards that SJ favored. When the tower was mentioned in this reading, and I’ve noticed how often the word “Fool” has been used to describe Eleanor, I decided to look at the Major Cards of that particular Deck, and found several images that coincide with this book:
Tower
Fool
Stars
Cup (Not a major card, but has its own section of 10 cards)
Devil
Hanged Man
Hermit
Lover
Chariot
Death
Judgment
Force
Just some interesting images SJ may have played with…..or personally related to?
My audiobook is a bit differently synched to the chapters and her ability to see/feel/notice the sensory goings on in the house shows up again. I wonder if it is a strong imagination or the evolution of house and woman in a soulful melding.
Looking back at the chapter where dr shares the backstory, is by there a clear link of who is walking in the grass, the childish voice, the mother (is it Eleanor’s or from the house?, or the caress in this section. Zac Baggins on Ghost Adventures always seems to know who he’s hollering at. But I need a whiteboard for this crew.
She liked the Marseille Tarot. I have an image of it but it doesn't look like I can post it here. I'll try to do it in Notes. Lisa, nice pickup on the use of tarot images here!
Thank you! And I just saw your post of the photo of SJ’s deck!!! Wow!! I’m thrilled beyond belief to have the privilege of seeing these. Thank you so much for sharing!
I was wondering if I was speculating too much on this point, but after taking that course on the Tarot, and the meanings of those Major Cards, and knowing that SJ would have been “absorbing” these symbols, they kept jumping out at me.
I would just like to pick a little at your unreliable narrator idea which I know has come up before in the comments and which for some reason I always trip up on.
I'm not sure why.
I think I have a sense that conceiving of E. as an unreliable narrator, or as simply unreliable, an unreliable, crazy person, perhaps, undermines the story Jackson is telling, of trauma and its manifestations in everyday life.
Anyway, that's one way I've been thinking of this book. I know there are lots of other ways to think of it, and I am so interested in how others see things.
I have preferred, in my own reading, to take what is happening to Eleanor at face value. To in a way not question it, not hold it up to the light, but to accept it as true, real, whatever those words may mean, for Eleanor, not for me.
I think that is why when I hear unreliable and similar things I get a bit offended, if that is not too strong a word.
Not because I think it is wrong but because it goes against how I'm reading the book and reading Eleanor.
What a great topic to discuss here! Thank you so much for your thoughts. First of all, I think there are several different types of unreliable narrators in literature. In this case, my understanding of the term unreliable narrator is (and I’m writing this as I’m thinking about it, so I hope it makes sense) -is that the information the reader is given by the character (narrator) is based on the character’s own perception of reality, which can be based on their circumstances, psychological state, past traumas, or anything that affects how they distinguish reality from fantasy. Therefore, sometimes, the reader isn’t sure what is reality and what is fantasy; although, in the character’s mind, it is their reality.
In other words, I don’t doubt, and I’ve said it in many of my comments, that Eleanor is a victim of years of trauma. And within the framework of the novel, my interpretation is also that Hill House has targeted her as its next victim, for whatever reason, and throughout the novel, her perception of reality is becoming more and more unhinged, through no fault of her own. So, when I am reading her thoughts in the omniscient point of view, especially as HH seems to be invading her thoughts and psyche more and more, (my interpretation) I am never sure where reality ends and fantasy begins. A good example of this is when she hears the children’s circle song in the middle of the parlor and then hears the footsteps come towards her and feels a sigh on her cheek. I don’t know if that is reality or fantasy. I DO believe that that is Eleanor’s reality; I’m not questioning that at all. But to me, that is what makes this book so intriguing to read, and frankly, all of Jackson’s novels and short stories. It’s like going down a rabbit hole and not knowing if the protagonist’s perceptions are, well, grounded in reality; at the very least, it’s unsettling; like a dream. There’s always something that’s just, not quite right, if that makes sense.
I can completely understand why the term “unreliable” could be offensive to you. It makes it sound as though the narrator is lying on purpose perhaps? (which is another type of unreliable narrator)
I’m sort of old school, (retired lit teacher/poet early Gen X) and have used this term for years to describe my favorite types of books and films, but maybe I need to ponder this, and think of a better word to use. Thanks so much again!
And I would love to hear what others think about this topic, especially since anytime I’ve read anything about this book, Eleanor is always described as an “unreliable narrator”in the sense of the literary device., or at least “Not the most reliable narrator.” I’m fascinated if people in the group here disagree with that opinion, and why.
Also, I found this video that specifically discusses this woman’s view of Eleanor as an unreliable narrator, and uses examples from the book in a much better way than I did in my post. https://youtu.be/4oXOBXUzFms?si=npVnOj_cn_WeB4xA
The use of the song “In and Out the Window” was marvelously scary. I am oldish and sang that song/played that game in school. The first and third verses here are not part of the original--and that first verse, “go walking through the valley” (you almost can’t help but add the next words from the famous psalm, walk through the “of death”)--the spirit or house or whatever is now explicitly calling her to die,. The third verse links death to the lover at the end of the journey. Aiyeeee.
I have a sense now of why Mrs. M. and Arthur are structurally necessary to the book. Their presence establishes that the house’s hauntings can be withheld from some while heard by others. That prevents us from being pushed to the assumption that Eleanor has simply (“simply”) lost her mind here. I mean of course why-not-both-dot-gif, but to me it feels like the house has zeroed in 100% on her. At the same time she becomes the poltergeist, a living ghost. It’s all so well done.
I’m curious. Did the In and Out the Window song include the word Lover in your experience? The closest I could find was Partner. I’m wondering if SJ changed it up.
Mrs M puts Mrs D at ease because M respects D's craft, helps w the drying, and D doesn't resent Mrs M bc she isn't about the horror, she's about the "facts" and she's not afraid.
Another Buffy echo: Mrs M reminds me of that cult that worshipped and romanticized vampires and just thought they were misunderstood and ostracized.
After Theo rejects Eleanor, the house woos her, and she is so vulnerable and susceptible that it doesn't take much.
I think Mrs. M and Mrs. D get along so well because, in a way, they are the ones who have the most respect for the hauntedness of Hill House. Although, Mrs. D fears it, while Mrs. M delights in it (well, she delights in the *idea* of it--she is totally oblivious to what/who is actually doing the haunting, as will be made abundantly, hilariously clear in the next chapter).
Oh and I meant to say I am so grateful to Ruth Franklin for pulling out the way SJ softens and complicates Mrs M here--she did not bother me as she did others, I found that duo pretty funny-- but this makes me like the book all the more.
The note about Laurence!! That is hilarious. I wonder also if his speech was in unconscious imitation of some teacher or headmaster whom SJ knew and found ridiculous.
For all of Mrs. Montague’s pompousness, she alone seeks Mrs. Dudley out. The rest of the household, whether due to Mrs. Dudley’s demeanor or their ready acceptance of her role as “servant,” doesn’t bother. Mrs. Montague is unafraid to visit Mrs. Dudley in her domain, to help prepare food, even. This feels significant, maybe as a way to humanize both women, and/or as a parallel to the house itself. Everyone except Eleanor waits in the thrall of Hill House. Eleanor, on the other hand, seems to commune with the house on its own terms. More broadly this could be a statement on language, accessibility, humility, even. To “enter into” that which most people would hide from.
That's a good point about Mrs. Dudley and Mrs. Montague. No one else takes any notice or interest in Mrs. Dudley as a person. Granted, her initial reception of them (strange and formidable) is perhaps not conducive to this. Mrs. Montague encounters her cooking before the woman herself and is eager to make her acquaintance. (And Mrs. M simply does not acknowledge oddity or fearsomeness. She is impervious.)
Eleanor is delusional. Luke and Theo revel in taunting Eleanor. What a trio. And Mrs. Montague! Does she know that she is describing Eleanor when she refers to "whatever poor souls wander restlessly here. ... a lost abandoned soul, left without any helping hand."
Thanks, Ruth, for highlighting the passage in which Eleanor is communing with the house. It’s terribly pleasant--which is terribly odd. Jackson writes idyllic as well as she writes creepy. I’ve been going to school on her prose to decipher how she creates such unsettling atmosphere. Thoroughly creeped out by Chapter 5, Section 4, I did a line by line study of the section, marking repeated words and sounds, stressed and unstressed syllables, but I only understood her m.o. better when I contrasted it with this passage.
Here’s my take: when she’s writing creepy, she uses the harsher sounds of alliteration, as well as repeated ending sounds. She straight up repeats phrases or words with only slight variation until they become suffocating. She runs together long sentences with few full stops--even throwing dialogue with end punctuation inside longer sentences.
Here, she gives us regular full stops, keeps sentences to a reasonable length, repeats soft vowel sounds--and in that case, she even tends to separate them--and repeats only ending sounds rather than whole words or phrases. There are also far fewer stressed syllables. The effect is the rhythm of a trot or canter, but never the full gallop of one of her terrifying night scenes.
Anybody else catch different stuff? More eyes and different angles help when one’s trying to steal a magician’s act.
This makes me think of Jackson's particular love of 18thC novels and her exhaustive (sounds like) readings of English lit? She absorbed a lot of syntax. But she writes in her own unique way of course.
What interests me about Eleanor here is that she is eavesdropping on the others (the eaves of course a reference to the edge of a house’s roof). With hands over her mouth she waits to hear Theo and Luke talk about her - they discuss everyone but her. She listens outside the parlour door to Arthur and the doctor. Most strangely when listening to the two married women she ‘pressed against the dining-room door, stared and opened her mouth wide against the wooden panels of the door.’ Her eyes stare but she cannot see them. Her mouth is wide but she does not make a sound. The women talk directly about Theo and Luke but she is subsumed within the phrase ‘Those young people’ or is she overlooked? I remember Mrs M’s confusion over who exactly was Eleanor thinking she was Theo. Eleanor’s connection to the living, human world is becoming increasingly tenuous.
I love the connection of the word “eavesdropping” to the eaves of the house. Also, great observation on how her mouth changed each time she was eavesdropping.
Yes, that part really struck me! She seems to be just disappearing into the house. Theo and Luke don't mention her, and neither does the Dr. when Arthur asks where everybody is. It's like she was never a part of the household! And it's almost echoed in what Mrs. Montague says about planchette also disappearing: "How would *you* feel if people refused to believe in *you*?"
I was struck too that no one mentioned Eleanor. If Luke hadn't smiled across the room at her in the evening and spoken to her, I might wonder if there was really an Eleanor in this group, or if she was part of the house all along (and had made up a history for herself when the party was due to arrive?). I don't think that's the case, but it was uncanny, how she disappeared for them in the daytime.
Oh, your insight into the “eaves” of a roof is incredible! Reading your comment made me wonder if Eleanor is embodying the “speak no evil, see no evil, hear no evil” phrase.. First she covers her mouth (and has stopped speaking in general), then her mouth is wide open while she cannot see, and lastly she looks down at her hands and starts “hardly hearing” Mrs. M in favor of something no one else can hear.
This could more generally be a focus on Eleanor’s sensory reality (which now extends to the entire house) as she uses her senses to perceive what is “real” to her and the others. It makes me think of the empiricist phrase “to exist is to be perceived,” and it seems the others have stopped perceiving Eleanor.
I am noticing gratefully that you have “liked” my comment on Jennifer Sears’ reference to Edna St Vincent Millay. To receive your notice this late in the day is, well, noteworthy, to say the least. It is not and could not be your intention but if I am to respond I need to say that it portends a confession and possibly, with myself at least, a creative confrontation that I had decided not to engage.
Less than halfway though the read I had decided to drop out; i.e., stop commenting though keeping on reading. I had noticed at the start, as everyone would have, that you have written a book – with a somewhat ironic title? – about the Holocaust, and are working on a book about Anne Frank. So that was one aspect of the meditation I was engaged in. Which might be put this way – though not definitively: Unless . . . , then reading Shirley Jackson’s book at this time is more than frivolous, objectionably frivolous. So, then, unless what?
When it began, I had wearily sort of decided to not pay attention to the war in Israel/Gaza. But that turned out to be entirely impossible and I shortly became fully engaged. So my thought began to go something like this: The only way I can justify devoting time and energy and integrity of self to preoccupation with this story, at this time, is if what the story is actualizing for us, as a fiction, is a depiction of the human self and the human world true to the complex psycho-social reality of our humanity as it is expressed in the brutality of war. Even illuminates the psycho-social complexity of the inevitability of warfare and of this kind of warfare, and of this war in particular. (By indirection find direction out, so to speak). Otherwise reading this story now, poring over this story as we must if we are to read it all, is frivolous, objectionably frivolous. So I decided to stop. But as I read on I began to think, yes, the story does seem to “actualize as a fiction” the psycho-social complexity” I was asking of it.
For the moment it has begun to seem to me a tremendous, and I hope in the end spiritually purgative, dose – symbolically and metaphorically depicted as the Satanic and the Daemonic – of an inevitable part of the psychic/psychological substance of our almost hopelessly self-contradicting humanity.
How odd that it should have turned out that reading Jackson’s story is not a distraction but rather an insightful, though certainly not comforting, penetration into the insoluble existential horror – insoluble, inevitable and incurable, very likely – of the very war and warfare from which I thought the book might be no more than a cheap distraction.
I've been thinking about your comment all day after reading it this morning. I'm glad you decided to continue. I may write something longer about this question, but in brief: for myself, I don't feel that reading The Haunting of Hill House while there's a war going on in Israel/Gaza is frivolous. On the most superficial level, we all deserve a break from the news, a little entertainment! But more seriously, my own belief is that literature can always be useful, even in ways we don't realize, by helping us understand the human condition better. I'm teaching a seminar this semester on politics and the novel, reading a number of classic novels through the lens of contemporary "cancel culture" and trying to understand why some readers find them objectionable and how to treat those objections, and one commentary I read on the subject mentioned the idea that literature needs to provide "psychic nourishment" to the reader. If it doesn't do so (because the reader finds the text racist, or otherwise objectionable) then it has failed. More could be said about that, but for our purposes I think the idea of "psychic nourishment" is useful. We need the psychic nourishment literature provides to grow as humans, to fulfill our purpose, to keep our minds open and questioning. And personally I find The Haunting of Hill House more psychically nourishing than scrolling through my Twitter feed!
Ruth, I’d love to know which novels you are reading for your seminar on politics and the novel or even see the syllabus if you share such things. I too think that reading literature during times of crisis (when possible) is a way of maintaining a sense of human connection when so much seems broken. For me, A new layer of “uncanniness” is added as the frailty of human life seems more present.
Hello Ruth. A lady by the name of Anne Himes has kindly come in at the last minute and "liked" my thank you note, to you personally, with a nod of gratitude to Jennifer Sears also for the discreet recognition that reading literature in a time of crisis is not always possible. I am wondering who Anne Himes is and why she thought so generously to signal her approval of this particular comment at this stage. Thanks.
Thank you, Ruth, for talking the time to so carefully ponder what I wrote. And, certainly, you cannot but be entirely right about literature as psychic nourishment. The very reason why we are all here. Thank you for presenting this wonderfully engaging forum and so effectively reigniting our participation every morning. I would like to say also that I very much appreciate Jennifer Sear’s comment below, with its gently spoken reservation - “when possible” - regarding the reading of literature in disconcerting times.
I don't have a specific analysis today (except that getting closer to the end makes me sad and scared for Eleanor even in the relatively peaceful moments of the book--especially since the peace itself seems false/dangerous), but I did want to comment to say I've really enjoyed reading this book with y'all this month. Hill House is one of my favorites that I've been meaning to revisit for years, and I'm glad I got to read these newsletters and everyone's great comments along with it.
I loved reading with this group, too. It brings me back the Twitter days of reading some great things together. I have been reading the book (my first time) and reading all the posts, but have not had time to respond each day.
I just loved listening to Shirley Jackson's daughter sing that creepy song. Someone earlier mentioned that there was a "fairy tale" vibe going on. More and more these characters seem like children. Eleanor the insecure, weakling kid who is sneaking around listening to the others. The other two kids being the taunting bullies... and those creepy kid songs. Remember that old fairy tales really are creepy! They play on some of the child's inner anxieties and fears and act as warnings to not disobey, lie, etc. Mrs. M is like an adult that comes into the room and catches the kids in the dark telling ghost stories and she flicks on the light and says stop all the nonsense and get to bed. Maybe Shirley Jackson is giving us a good ol' fairy tale... for grown ups!
In Eleanor’s arc and coming to the house, the weakling spacey kid drops into this omniscient hybrid that knows all throughout the house and it’s environs in words that are of a different tone And as she says later this is all new to her and of course she wants to stay.
Yes. I specifically think of Little Red Riding Hood with the red sweater mentioned, and Eleanor “straying from the path.” Also, Mr. Dudley is referred to as the Cheshire Cat when Eleanor first arrives at HH, so, of course, Alice in Wonderland. And so on….
Isn't it adults who are more afraid of what is in fairy tales - the scary ones- than children are?
And some people who know this can become children again for their children or with their children. Jackson singing that song to her kids makes me think of this.
Love this entire thread! Two thoughts: 1) Yes, they are all acting more like children. I wondered if Hill House's beckoning that E. come home was a metaphor for her to return to her childhood, that returning to the time of the unnamed abuse might be recuperative for her? 2) Fairy tales allow children to give voice to and hold their subconscious fears. So maybe it makes sense that pushing the tone more toward a fairy tale might help in E.'s healing?
I do appreciate this read a-long and all of the extra info you provide us about Jackson. I'm only now noticing with the passage about the sounds of the house which are now audible to Eleanor, that there is no reference by Jackson to darkness or sickness or evil. Maybe because there is nothing no longer unknown about the house to Eleanor (?). The sounds are in a way mundane, familiar and even sweet; Eleanor and the house are now in tune with one another and integrated.
Ah, I noticed the same things! I wonder if Mrs Dudley and Mrs Montague have a domestic connection, both presenting themselves with their husband's names. Do we even know their first names? I think not but my memory may be faulty.
I love the passage where Eleanor listens to the house. All the adverbs are gentle and soft. Eleanor's true connection is with Hill House. She has a Theo-like ability to read its mind: 'She could even hear, with her new awareness of the house, dust drifting gently in the attics, the wood aging’.
The house is her true connection. She is left out by the others. Theo and Luke never talk about Eleanor: ‘When are they going to talk about me? Eleanor wondered in the shadows’.
Hi everyone! I read ahead and wrote these comments last night, and am posting them first thing this morning due to time constraints today. I’m just loving this group so much, and am so sad it’s almost over.
First off!!! When I read the macabre song that Luke sings to Theo, I knew I had read about it before, and thought about it- and remembered that SJ would sing a lullaby about a murderer to her children in her darkly humorous way. Was this it? (No, I didn’t look in Ruth’s book. I made a pact with myself I wouldn’t do that for this group)- but I did a search on You Tube to hear the song- and I found a You Tube video of SARAH JACKSON, Shirley Jackson’s daughter, SINGING THE SONG!!!!!! If Ruth already posted this, my apologies, but I’m posting it here. Enjoy 😉
https://youtu.be/O-25GcHnOu8?si=Q0IW1bO4K8s9rMFg
These sections are short. The pacing is faster; more clipped. Like we’re being led quickly to the grand crescendo/finale, even though not a lot of action happens here.
I also found 2 versions of the song that E. hears in the center of the parlor that was a children’s circle game. I’m not sure if SJ changed the lyric to “Lover,” because all I could find was “partner.”
I’ll see if I can post one of the videos of that song.
https://youtu.be/7w5gcHVgd5s?feature=shared
My question regarding this is: Why does Theo want Luke to sing it to her? Are they messing with E? Is this all in E’s mind? I’m thinking we may have gone completely “unreliable narrator” at this point, if we haven’t already- Lol.
Just prior to this scene, we had the comic relief of Mrs. M nagging Dr. M.
And then after the scene with Theo and Luke, the hilarious scene with Dr. M. and Arthur in the library. It would seem Arthur needs a break from Mrs. M as well, and cannot read Dr. M’s obvious social cues to leave him alone.
MRS. DUDLEY CAN CONVERSE!!! What a revelation! And we were all so worried about her.😂. Of course, it’s with Mrs. M about the inappropriateness of the guests of opposite sexes staying at HH together. Or, since E. is listening in on this conversation, is this conversation even real?! Is E. now fantasizing about romance and sex (our guilt about it) since she had the experience of being held by the invisible presence? Did it stir up sexual or even romantic feelings in her?
Final section:
(If any of this is reality, or a vision in E’s mind at this point, who knows?)
Theo is wearing E’s (wait for it) BLUE DRESS- !!!!!!!!!
(Please Ruth!!! Help me with all the blue; especially the blue dresses that so many of SJ’s protagonist’s wear. If you missed one of my earlier posts, I am absolutely haunted by all the the blue dresses so many of SJ’s female protagonists wear in her novels and stories-I have some ideas on the earlier post.. )
But I digress.
Theo is mocking her.
She uses alliteration with “E” for “Eleanor”
“Ethereal” who
“Lives in Expectation”
E. can hear all sounds in house, even down to the the dust in attic. (Doesn’t dust come from dead skin?) But she can’t hear anything in the Library. (The one room she was too frightened or repulsed to enter)
And then, this is when, above the bickering of Dr. and Mrs. M., she hears the circle dance song, and after the line “Go forth and face your Lover,” she feels the unseen figure come to her, brush against her check, and sigh on her face as it passes by.
She’s being seduced by her Deamon Lover. I think it’s the House.
Just a side note: I mentioned in an earlier comment about the deck of Tarot cards that SJ favored. When the tower was mentioned in this reading, and I’ve noticed how often the word “Fool” has been used to describe Eleanor, I decided to look at the Major Cards of that particular Deck, and found several images that coincide with this book:
Tower
Fool
Stars
Cup (Not a major card, but has its own section of 10 cards)
Devil
Hanged Man
Hermit
Lover
Chariot
Death
Judgment
Force
Just some interesting images SJ may have played with…..or personally related to?
Wow, you were seriously vibing w Ruth on your reading of this section!
Thanks so much for mentioning the tarot imagery; it tracks well.
Thanks!
Remind what tarot deck she liked.
My audiobook is a bit differently synched to the chapters and her ability to see/feel/notice the sensory goings on in the house shows up again. I wonder if it is a strong imagination or the evolution of house and woman in a soulful melding.
Looking back at the chapter where dr shares the backstory, is by there a clear link of who is walking in the grass, the childish voice, the mother (is it Eleanor’s or from the house?, or the caress in this section. Zac Baggins on Ghost Adventures always seems to know who he’s hollering at. But I need a whiteboard for this crew.
She liked the Marseille Tarot. I have an image of it but it doesn't look like I can post it here. I'll try to do it in Notes. Lisa, nice pickup on the use of tarot images here!
Thank you! And I just saw your post of the photo of SJ’s deck!!! Wow!! I’m thrilled beyond belief to have the privilege of seeing these. Thank you so much for sharing!
I was wondering if I was speculating too much on this point, but after taking that course on the Tarot, and the meanings of those Major Cards, and knowing that SJ would have been “absorbing” these symbols, they kept jumping out at me.
Do it. Get the whiteboard out. Couldn't hurt : )
I love the Tarot cards connection! Thank you.
Thanks!
I would just like to pick a little at your unreliable narrator idea which I know has come up before in the comments and which for some reason I always trip up on.
I'm not sure why.
I think I have a sense that conceiving of E. as an unreliable narrator, or as simply unreliable, an unreliable, crazy person, perhaps, undermines the story Jackson is telling, of trauma and its manifestations in everyday life.
Anyway, that's one way I've been thinking of this book. I know there are lots of other ways to think of it, and I am so interested in how others see things.
I have preferred, in my own reading, to take what is happening to Eleanor at face value. To in a way not question it, not hold it up to the light, but to accept it as true, real, whatever those words may mean, for Eleanor, not for me.
I think that is why when I hear unreliable and similar things I get a bit offended, if that is not too strong a word.
Not because I think it is wrong but because it goes against how I'm reading the book and reading Eleanor.
What a great topic to discuss here! Thank you so much for your thoughts. First of all, I think there are several different types of unreliable narrators in literature. In this case, my understanding of the term unreliable narrator is (and I’m writing this as I’m thinking about it, so I hope it makes sense) -is that the information the reader is given by the character (narrator) is based on the character’s own perception of reality, which can be based on their circumstances, psychological state, past traumas, or anything that affects how they distinguish reality from fantasy. Therefore, sometimes, the reader isn’t sure what is reality and what is fantasy; although, in the character’s mind, it is their reality.
In other words, I don’t doubt, and I’ve said it in many of my comments, that Eleanor is a victim of years of trauma. And within the framework of the novel, my interpretation is also that Hill House has targeted her as its next victim, for whatever reason, and throughout the novel, her perception of reality is becoming more and more unhinged, through no fault of her own. So, when I am reading her thoughts in the omniscient point of view, especially as HH seems to be invading her thoughts and psyche more and more, (my interpretation) I am never sure where reality ends and fantasy begins. A good example of this is when she hears the children’s circle song in the middle of the parlor and then hears the footsteps come towards her and feels a sigh on her cheek. I don’t know if that is reality or fantasy. I DO believe that that is Eleanor’s reality; I’m not questioning that at all. But to me, that is what makes this book so intriguing to read, and frankly, all of Jackson’s novels and short stories. It’s like going down a rabbit hole and not knowing if the protagonist’s perceptions are, well, grounded in reality; at the very least, it’s unsettling; like a dream. There’s always something that’s just, not quite right, if that makes sense.
I can completely understand why the term “unreliable” could be offensive to you. It makes it sound as though the narrator is lying on purpose perhaps? (which is another type of unreliable narrator)
I’m sort of old school, (retired lit teacher/poet early Gen X) and have used this term for years to describe my favorite types of books and films, but maybe I need to ponder this, and think of a better word to use. Thanks so much again!
And I would love to hear what others think about this topic, especially since anytime I’ve read anything about this book, Eleanor is always described as an “unreliable narrator”in the sense of the literary device., or at least “Not the most reliable narrator.” I’m fascinated if people in the group here disagree with that opinion, and why.
Also, I found this video that specifically discusses this woman’s view of Eleanor as an unreliable narrator, and uses examples from the book in a much better way than I did in my post. https://youtu.be/4oXOBXUzFms?si=npVnOj_cn_WeB4xA
The use of the song “In and Out the Window” was marvelously scary. I am oldish and sang that song/played that game in school. The first and third verses here are not part of the original--and that first verse, “go walking through the valley” (you almost can’t help but add the next words from the famous psalm, walk through the “of death”)--the spirit or house or whatever is now explicitly calling her to die,. The third verse links death to the lover at the end of the journey. Aiyeeee.
I have a sense now of why Mrs. M. and Arthur are structurally necessary to the book. Their presence establishes that the house’s hauntings can be withheld from some while heard by others. That prevents us from being pushed to the assumption that Eleanor has simply (“simply”) lost her mind here. I mean of course why-not-both-dot-gif, but to me it feels like the house has zeroed in 100% on her. At the same time she becomes the poltergeist, a living ghost. It’s all so well done.
I’m curious. Did the In and Out the Window song include the word Lover in your experience? The closest I could find was Partner. I’m wondering if SJ changed it up.
No--I think I wasn’t clear above. In my experience, neither the first nor the third verse is in that song. Both of those seem added by Jackson.
Thanks
It is very very interesting to think about why and when in the book Jackson brings in Mrs. M. and Arthur, I agree!
Without them I think the book could not have worked, would have gone off the rails or seemed too dramatic or something.
It kind of gives me chills just thinking about how Jackson did the whole thing.
Mrs M puts Mrs D at ease because M respects D's craft, helps w the drying, and D doesn't resent Mrs M bc she isn't about the horror, she's about the "facts" and she's not afraid.
Another Buffy echo: Mrs M reminds me of that cult that worshipped and romanticized vampires and just thought they were misunderstood and ostracized.
After Theo rejects Eleanor, the house woos her, and she is so vulnerable and susceptible that it doesn't take much.
I think Mrs. M and Mrs. D get along so well because, in a way, they are the ones who have the most respect for the hauntedness of Hill House. Although, Mrs. D fears it, while Mrs. M delights in it (well, she delights in the *idea* of it--she is totally oblivious to what/who is actually doing the haunting, as will be made abundantly, hilariously clear in the next chapter).
Oh and I meant to say I am so grateful to Ruth Franklin for pulling out the way SJ softens and complicates Mrs M here--she did not bother me as she did others, I found that duo pretty funny-- but this makes me like the book all the more.
The note about Laurence!! That is hilarious. I wonder also if his speech was in unconscious imitation of some teacher or headmaster whom SJ knew and found ridiculous.
Look to the right of the like/ share line for the three dots. Hit that for the edit option.
For all of Mrs. Montague’s pompousness, she alone seeks Mrs. Dudley out. The rest of the household, whether due to Mrs. Dudley’s demeanor or their ready acceptance of her role as “servant,” doesn’t bother. Mrs. Montague is unafraid to visit Mrs. Dudley in her domain, to help prepare food, even. This feels significant, maybe as a way to humanize both women, and/or as a parallel to the house itself. Everyone except Eleanor waits in the thrall of Hill House. Eleanor, on the other hand, seems to commune with the house on its own terms. More broadly this could be a statement on language, accessibility, humility, even. To “enter into” that which most people would hide from.
I was fascinated by these two women’s connection and really expected some further mention of it. Thanks for you insights.
That's a good point about Mrs. Dudley and Mrs. Montague. No one else takes any notice or interest in Mrs. Dudley as a person. Granted, her initial reception of them (strange and formidable) is perhaps not conducive to this. Mrs. Montague encounters her cooking before the woman herself and is eager to make her acquaintance. (And Mrs. M simply does not acknowledge oddity or fearsomeness. She is impervious.)
Eleanor is delusional. Luke and Theo revel in taunting Eleanor. What a trio. And Mrs. Montague! Does she know that she is describing Eleanor when she refers to "whatever poor souls wander restlessly here. ... a lost abandoned soul, left without any helping hand."
She most decidedly does not know that, I think.
An interesting note. Mrs. Montague shows far more empathy to the invisible ghosts than she does to Eleanor and the others.
And yet she is so stuck on her preconceived ideas that she can't really see anything of what's going on in regard to the hauntings.
Thanks, Ruth, for highlighting the passage in which Eleanor is communing with the house. It’s terribly pleasant--which is terribly odd. Jackson writes idyllic as well as she writes creepy. I’ve been going to school on her prose to decipher how she creates such unsettling atmosphere. Thoroughly creeped out by Chapter 5, Section 4, I did a line by line study of the section, marking repeated words and sounds, stressed and unstressed syllables, but I only understood her m.o. better when I contrasted it with this passage.
Here’s my take: when she’s writing creepy, she uses the harsher sounds of alliteration, as well as repeated ending sounds. She straight up repeats phrases or words with only slight variation until they become suffocating. She runs together long sentences with few full stops--even throwing dialogue with end punctuation inside longer sentences.
Here, she gives us regular full stops, keeps sentences to a reasonable length, repeats soft vowel sounds--and in that case, she even tends to separate them--and repeats only ending sounds rather than whole words or phrases. There are also far fewer stressed syllables. The effect is the rhythm of a trot or canter, but never the full gallop of one of her terrifying night scenes.
Anybody else catch different stuff? More eyes and different angles help when one’s trying to steal a magician’s act.
Wow! What a thorough analysis! I’m going to go back and look at all of this. Thank you, and bravo.👏
This makes me think of Jackson's particular love of 18thC novels and her exhaustive (sounds like) readings of English lit? She absorbed a lot of syntax. But she writes in her own unique way of course.
Really strong craft insights. Thanks!
What interests me about Eleanor here is that she is eavesdropping on the others (the eaves of course a reference to the edge of a house’s roof). With hands over her mouth she waits to hear Theo and Luke talk about her - they discuss everyone but her. She listens outside the parlour door to Arthur and the doctor. Most strangely when listening to the two married women she ‘pressed against the dining-room door, stared and opened her mouth wide against the wooden panels of the door.’ Her eyes stare but she cannot see them. Her mouth is wide but she does not make a sound. The women talk directly about Theo and Luke but she is subsumed within the phrase ‘Those young people’ or is she overlooked? I remember Mrs M’s confusion over who exactly was Eleanor thinking she was Theo. Eleanor’s connection to the living, human world is becoming increasingly tenuous.
I love the connection of the word “eavesdropping” to the eaves of the house. Also, great observation on how her mouth changed each time she was eavesdropping.
Yes. She hears the house but not the people in it. She hides and tries to listen and understand her companions,but can't hear them.
Yes, that part really struck me! She seems to be just disappearing into the house. Theo and Luke don't mention her, and neither does the Dr. when Arthur asks where everybody is. It's like she was never a part of the household! And it's almost echoed in what Mrs. Montague says about planchette also disappearing: "How would *you* feel if people refused to believe in *you*?"
I was struck too that no one mentioned Eleanor. If Luke hadn't smiled across the room at her in the evening and spoken to her, I might wonder if there was really an Eleanor in this group, or if she was part of the house all along (and had made up a history for herself when the party was due to arrive?). I don't think that's the case, but it was uncanny, how she disappeared for them in the daytime.
That's a good point! Eleanor's most intense interactions with her housemates are at night, while during the day things seem more ephemeral.
Such a great line...and Mrs. Montegue is the only one who could have said it.
Oh, your insight into the “eaves” of a roof is incredible! Reading your comment made me wonder if Eleanor is embodying the “speak no evil, see no evil, hear no evil” phrase.. First she covers her mouth (and has stopped speaking in general), then her mouth is wide open while she cannot see, and lastly she looks down at her hands and starts “hardly hearing” Mrs. M in favor of something no one else can hear.
This could more generally be a focus on Eleanor’s sensory reality (which now extends to the entire house) as she uses her senses to perceive what is “real” to her and the others. It makes me think of the empiricist phrase “to exist is to be perceived,” and it seems the others have stopped perceiving Eleanor.
Hi Ruth,
I am noticing gratefully that you have “liked” my comment on Jennifer Sears’ reference to Edna St Vincent Millay. To receive your notice this late in the day is, well, noteworthy, to say the least. It is not and could not be your intention but if I am to respond I need to say that it portends a confession and possibly, with myself at least, a creative confrontation that I had decided not to engage.
Less than halfway though the read I had decided to drop out; i.e., stop commenting though keeping on reading. I had noticed at the start, as everyone would have, that you have written a book – with a somewhat ironic title? – about the Holocaust, and are working on a book about Anne Frank. So that was one aspect of the meditation I was engaged in. Which might be put this way – though not definitively: Unless . . . , then reading Shirley Jackson’s book at this time is more than frivolous, objectionably frivolous. So, then, unless what?
When it began, I had wearily sort of decided to not pay attention to the war in Israel/Gaza. But that turned out to be entirely impossible and I shortly became fully engaged. So my thought began to go something like this: The only way I can justify devoting time and energy and integrity of self to preoccupation with this story, at this time, is if what the story is actualizing for us, as a fiction, is a depiction of the human self and the human world true to the complex psycho-social reality of our humanity as it is expressed in the brutality of war. Even illuminates the psycho-social complexity of the inevitability of warfare and of this kind of warfare, and of this war in particular. (By indirection find direction out, so to speak). Otherwise reading this story now, poring over this story as we must if we are to read it all, is frivolous, objectionably frivolous. So I decided to stop. But as I read on I began to think, yes, the story does seem to “actualize as a fiction” the psycho-social complexity” I was asking of it.
For the moment it has begun to seem to me a tremendous, and I hope in the end spiritually purgative, dose – symbolically and metaphorically depicted as the Satanic and the Daemonic – of an inevitable part of the psychic/psychological substance of our almost hopelessly self-contradicting humanity.
How odd that it should have turned out that reading Jackson’s story is not a distraction but rather an insightful, though certainly not comforting, penetration into the insoluble existential horror – insoluble, inevitable and incurable, very likely – of the very war and warfare from which I thought the book might be no more than a cheap distraction.
Dear Alfred,
I've been thinking about your comment all day after reading it this morning. I'm glad you decided to continue. I may write something longer about this question, but in brief: for myself, I don't feel that reading The Haunting of Hill House while there's a war going on in Israel/Gaza is frivolous. On the most superficial level, we all deserve a break from the news, a little entertainment! But more seriously, my own belief is that literature can always be useful, even in ways we don't realize, by helping us understand the human condition better. I'm teaching a seminar this semester on politics and the novel, reading a number of classic novels through the lens of contemporary "cancel culture" and trying to understand why some readers find them objectionable and how to treat those objections, and one commentary I read on the subject mentioned the idea that literature needs to provide "psychic nourishment" to the reader. If it doesn't do so (because the reader finds the text racist, or otherwise objectionable) then it has failed. More could be said about that, but for our purposes I think the idea of "psychic nourishment" is useful. We need the psychic nourishment literature provides to grow as humans, to fulfill our purpose, to keep our minds open and questioning. And personally I find The Haunting of Hill House more psychically nourishing than scrolling through my Twitter feed!
Ruth, I’d love to know which novels you are reading for your seminar on politics and the novel or even see the syllabus if you share such things. I too think that reading literature during times of crisis (when possible) is a way of maintaining a sense of human connection when so much seems broken. For me, A new layer of “uncanniness” is added as the frailty of human life seems more present.
Thanks! We are reading Jane Eyre, Wide Sargasso Sea, Heart of Darkness, The Adventures of Huck Finn, and a few more contemporary novels.
Great list.....thanks again.
Hello Ruth. A lady by the name of Anne Himes has kindly come in at the last minute and "liked" my thank you note, to you personally, with a nod of gratitude to Jennifer Sears also for the discreet recognition that reading literature in a time of crisis is not always possible. I am wondering who Anne Himes is and why she thought so generously to signal her approval of this particular comment at this stage. Thanks.
Thank you so much for this, Ruth. This time spent reading and corresponding with this group has, indeed, been so nourishing for my soul.
Thank you, Ruth, for talking the time to so carefully ponder what I wrote. And, certainly, you cannot but be entirely right about literature as psychic nourishment. The very reason why we are all here. Thank you for presenting this wonderfully engaging forum and so effectively reigniting our participation every morning. I would like to say also that I very much appreciate Jennifer Sear’s comment below, with its gently spoken reservation - “when possible” - regarding the reading of literature in disconcerting times.
I don't have a specific analysis today (except that getting closer to the end makes me sad and scared for Eleanor even in the relatively peaceful moments of the book--especially since the peace itself seems false/dangerous), but I did want to comment to say I've really enjoyed reading this book with y'all this month. Hill House is one of my favorites that I've been meaning to revisit for years, and I'm glad I got to read these newsletters and everyone's great comments along with it.
I loved reading with this group, too. It brings me back the Twitter days of reading some great things together. I have been reading the book (my first time) and reading all the posts, but have not had time to respond each day.
Mrs. Montague is so irritating!!
It does feel like it's all coming to a head for the forthcoming section.
I too enjoyed the fact Eleanor is everywhere and unseen and then see's something none of the others can. Jackson has conveyed this perfectly.
I just loved listening to Shirley Jackson's daughter sing that creepy song. Someone earlier mentioned that there was a "fairy tale" vibe going on. More and more these characters seem like children. Eleanor the insecure, weakling kid who is sneaking around listening to the others. The other two kids being the taunting bullies... and those creepy kid songs. Remember that old fairy tales really are creepy! They play on some of the child's inner anxieties and fears and act as warnings to not disobey, lie, etc. Mrs. M is like an adult that comes into the room and catches the kids in the dark telling ghost stories and she flicks on the light and says stop all the nonsense and get to bed. Maybe Shirley Jackson is giving us a good ol' fairy tale... for grown ups!
Lol! Yes Mrs D and Mrs M are like two moms having coffee! Its a whole other atmosphere!
Yes! Luke even tells Eleanor that he wishes he had a mom who would tell him to grow up.
In Eleanor’s arc and coming to the house, the weakling spacey kid drops into this omniscient hybrid that knows all throughout the house and it’s environs in words that are of a different tone And as she says later this is all new to her and of course she wants to stay.
Yes. I specifically think of Little Red Riding Hood with the red sweater mentioned, and Eleanor “straying from the path.” Also, Mr. Dudley is referred to as the Cheshire Cat when Eleanor first arrives at HH, so, of course, Alice in Wonderland. And so on….
Isn't it adults who are more afraid of what is in fairy tales - the scary ones- than children are?
And some people who know this can become children again for their children or with their children. Jackson singing that song to her kids makes me think of this.
Yes I think it may be empowering for kids to hear/read scary stories and laugh them off. A bit of facing their fears.
Love this entire thread! Two thoughts: 1) Yes, they are all acting more like children. I wondered if Hill House's beckoning that E. come home was a metaphor for her to return to her childhood, that returning to the time of the unnamed abuse might be recuperative for her? 2) Fairy tales allow children to give voice to and hold their subconscious fears. So maybe it makes sense that pushing the tone more toward a fairy tale might help in E.'s healing?
Eleonor is becoming in tune with the house, seeing and feeling everything. Or is the house in tune with her?
I do appreciate this read a-long and all of the extra info you provide us about Jackson. I'm only now noticing with the passage about the sounds of the house which are now audible to Eleanor, that there is no reference by Jackson to darkness or sickness or evil. Maybe because there is nothing no longer unknown about the house to Eleanor (?). The sounds are in a way mundane, familiar and even sweet; Eleanor and the house are now in tune with one another and integrated.
Ah, I noticed the same things! I wonder if Mrs Dudley and Mrs Montague have a domestic connection, both presenting themselves with their husband's names. Do we even know their first names? I think not but my memory may be faulty.
I love the passage where Eleanor listens to the house. All the adverbs are gentle and soft. Eleanor's true connection is with Hill House. She has a Theo-like ability to read its mind: 'She could even hear, with her new awareness of the house, dust drifting gently in the attics, the wood aging’.
The house is her true connection. She is left out by the others. Theo and Luke never talk about Eleanor: ‘When are they going to talk about me? Eleanor wondered in the shadows’.