We Have always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson
We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson is one of those novels that leaves you feeling unsettled in the most subtle yet powerful way. It’s not your typical horror—there are no jump scares or monsters lurking in the shadows. Instead, the novel plays with psychological horror and the eerie strangeness of the everyday. The story creeps under your skin, taking you deep into the minds of its characters and their twisted, isolated world.
The Blackwood family
The story centers on the Blackwood family, who live in a grand yet decaying house on the outskirts of a small village. The family used to be much larger, but now only three people remain: 18-year-old Mary Katherine “Merricat” Blackwood, her older sister Constance, and their elderly Uncle Julian. From the very first page, there’s a sense that something is deeply off about this family and their home. The novel is narrated by Merricat, who has a strange, almost childlike way of seeing the world.
Merricat is a unique character—she’s fiercely protective of her sister and their isolated life, but she’s also deeply untrustworthy as a narrator. She doesn’t tell you everything outright; she withholds information and distorts reality, so you’re left trying to piece things together through her skewed perspective. She’s imaginative, superstitious, and more than a little unstable, and that makes her both fascinating and unsettling to follow.
As the novel opens, you quickly realize that the Blackwood family has been shunned by the villagers. Merricat ventures into town once a week to buy supplies, and she’s met with open hostility and cruelty. The townspeople whisper about the Blackwoods, mock them, and make snide remarks. It becomes clear that something terrible happened to the Blackwood family in the past, and this event is the reason for their ostracization. But Jackson doesn’t reveal the full story right away—she builds the mystery slowly, creating a suffocating atmosphere of dread and tension.
The poisonings
Bit by bit, we learn that six years before the events of the novel, most of the Blackwood family was poisoned during dinner. Arsenic was slipped into the sugar bowl, and as a result, the family’s parents, brother, and aunt died. Only Constance, Merricat, and Uncle Julian survived. Uncle Julian was left physically disabled and mentally unstable from the poisoning, while Constance, who had prepared the meal, was accused of murder but ultimately acquitted. Despite her innocence in the eyes of the law, the villagers continue to believe that Constance was responsible for the deaths, which is why the Blackwoods live in isolation, cut off from the world.
The poisoning becomes the dark shadow that looms over the entire novel. It’s the event that fractured the family and cast them into this life of isolation, but it’s also never fully explained. Who really put the arsenic in the sugar? Was it a mistake, or something more sinister? Jackson leaves these questions hanging in the air, adding to the eerie uncertainty of the story.
Life in isolation
What’s so compelling about We Have Always Lived in the Castle is the strange, claustrophobic world that Merricat and Constance have created for themselves. After the tragedy, they withdrew completely from society, living in their massive house, surrounded by the remnants of their former life. Their existence feels frozen in time—there’s a sense that nothing changes in the Blackwood house, that they are stuck in the past, clinging to a life that no longer exists.
Constance, in particular, is an intriguing figure. She never leaves the house, not even to step into the garden, and she devotes herself entirely to taking care of the home, cooking elaborate meals, and tending to Uncle Julian. She’s the picture of domesticity, but there’s something unsettling about her passivity. She’s almost too serene, too perfect in her role as caretaker, which makes you wonder what’s going on beneath the surface.
Merricat, on the other hand, is wild and unrestrained. She roams the family’s land, burying objects as part of her elaborate rituals to protect the house and keep outsiders away. She has a deep connection to the land, almost like a feral creature, and her superstitions guide everything she does. She’s constantly worried about the outside world invading their sanctuary, and she goes to great lengths to maintain their bubble of isolation.
Their relationship is incredibly close, almost unnaturally so. Merricat worships Constance and sees her as the center of her world. Everything she does is for her sister, and she views herself as Constance’s protector. But there’s also a hint of tension between them—Constance is kind and gentle, while Merricat is more unpredictable and, at times, sinister. Their dynamic is central to the novel, and as you read, you start to wonder how much of their relationship is based on love, and how much of it is based on something darker.
Uncle Julian and the past
Uncle Julian is another key figure in the Blackwood household. He’s obsessed with the night of the poisoning and spends his days writing and rewriting his account of the event, trying to piece together what happened. His mind is deteriorating, and he often drifts between reality and delusion, which adds to the overall sense of unease. Julian’s presence is a constant reminder of the tragedy that shaped the family’s life, but his unreliable memory means that we never get a clear picture of the past.
He’s an oddly tragic figure, stuck in a loop of reliving the most traumatic night of his life. In many ways, Julian embodies the novel’s theme of being trapped by the past, unable to move forward. The Blackwoods’ house is filled with the ghosts of their former lives—both figuratively and literally. The past is alive in every room, in every interaction, and it’s clear that none of them can truly escape it.
The village and the outside world
While the Blackwoods live in isolation, the village is a constant presence in the background. The villagers are filled with resentment and suspicion toward the Blackwood family, and there’s a sense that they enjoy punishing them for the poisoning, whether Constance is guilty or not. Every time Merricat goes into town, she’s met with stares, whispers, and open hostility. The villagers throw insults at her and treat her like an outcast. There’s something primal about their hatred—it feels like they’re lashing out at the Blackwoods not just for the poisoning, but because they represent something different, something other.
This animosity between the Blackwoods and the villagers sets up one of the novel’s central conflicts: the fear of the outside world. Merricat is terrified of anyone or anything disturbing their secluded life, and the villagers, in turn, are fascinated by and jealous of the Blackwoods’ wealth and status. The novel explores how fear and hatred can grow in isolation, turning into something almost monstrous. The village, in many ways, becomes a character in its own right—a faceless, menacing presence that threatens to invade the Blackwoods’ sanctuary.
Charles and the threat of change
The fragile peace of Merricat and Constance’s life is disrupted when a cousin, Charles Blackwood, suddenly arrives at the house. Charles is one of the few characters from the outside world who breaches their isolated existence, and his presence throws everything into chaos. He’s a smooth-talking, opportunistic figure, and it quickly becomes clear that he’s there to take advantage of the family’s wealth.
Merricat immediately despises Charles. She sees him as a threat to their way of life, someone who will tear apart the world she’s carefully built with Constance. Charles represents change, and Merricat is violently opposed to any kind of change. She wants things to stay exactly as they are—her rituals, her superstitions, and her routines are all designed to protect the status quo.
Charles’s arrival sets off a series of events that push the tension between Merricat, Constance, and the outside world to its breaking point. His presence forces Constance to confront her past and consider the possibility of a future outside the walls of their home, while Merricat becomes increasingly desperate to maintain control. As Charles becomes more entrenched in their lives, the cracks in the Blackwood sisters’ world begin to show, and the underlying darkness of their relationship comes closer to the surface.
Themes of isolation and madness
At its core, We Have Always Lived in the Castle is a story about isolation—both physical and emotional. The Blackwoods have cut themselves off from the world, and in doing so, they’ve created a twisted, self-contained reality. The longer they stay isolated, the more they retreat into their own minds, losing touch with the outside world and, in some ways, with reality itself.
Merricat, in particular, teeters on the edge of madness throughout the novel. Her superstitions, rituals, and obsessive behavior hint at something deeply wrong beneath the surface. She’s a character who is both incredibly sympathetic and deeply disturbing. You understand her need for control and her fear of change, but at the same time, you can’t help but question how much of the family’s isolation is a result of her influence.
The novel also explores themes of guilt, trauma, and the way the past can haunt you. The Blackwoods are trapped by their past—by the poisoning, by the death of their family members, and by the village’s lingering resentment. They live in a world of secrets and unspoken truths, and Jackson masterfully keeps you guessing about what really happened and who is to blame.