"Afternoon in Linen"

"Afternoon in Linen"
from The Lottery and Other Stories, by Shirley Jackson

I can sympathize with Harriet's not wanting to be forced to put herself-- her piano-playing, her poetry, her private, creative self-- on display.  Especially when her grandmother is just trying to "show her off" in comparison with a friend's child.  Especially with a taunting male peer looking on, clearly plotting to tell everyone at school the humiliating secret that she writes poetry.  Some things are so much better kept to yourself, until you decide to share them.  (But how humiliating for her grandmother!  And I'm sure she didn't mean any harm...)

I wonder if Jackson was drawing on her own experiences (as a child? even as an adult?) of being asked/forced to share private things when she'd rather not.  It seems likely.

"Charles"

"Charles"
from The Lottery and Other Stories, by Shirley Jackson

The surprise ending of this felt predictable-- but that may be because I accidentally saw a line or two of a review before reading the story.  (I can't remember exactly what the review said, but it must've been enough...)

-- I can't help but wonder why the teacher never sent a note home with "Charles"/Laurie.  Maybe she did, but Laurie "lost" it on the way home.  In that case, after receiving no response, you'd think she'd have telephoned or even dropped by in person, after Laurie's continued misbehavior.  At least, I'm pretty sure that when I was in elementary school, the teachers would contact a parent under those circumstances.  Possibly things were different when this story was written, and a teacher wouldn't want to involve the parents until all other avenues had been exhausted.  Still, it struck me as odd.  (Necessary for the twist ending, though, which is probably all the explanation we need! (g))

-- That name... Laurie.  Several of the other short stories by this author that I've read have revolved around a little boy named Laurie.  Since Jackson had a son named Laurence, I've wondered if any of these stories are based on kernels of truth.  If so, Laurie seems to have been a particularly naughty-- one might even say bratty-- kid.  (Clearly, I do not agree with Anne that we love the mischievous Davies of the world more than the mild-mannered Doras.  You want a person of any age to have a personality, of course, but Davy and Laurie have a few dashes too much.)

"After You, My Dear Alphonse"

"After You, My Dear Alphonse"
from The Lottery and Other Stories, by Shirley Jackson

An extremely short snippet about prejudice, racial stereotypes, and the innocence of children.  ...Anything I can think of to write about this story is so obvious that it feels silly to bother!  But since I'm already here:  It's "funny" (in a cringe-inducing way) that the mother in the story probably thinks she's being very kind and sympathetic toward her son's new friend.  I'm sure she'd be shocked and deeply offended if she knew that anyone thought otherwise. 

"The Renegade"

"The Renegade"
from The Lottery and Other Stories, by Shirley Jackson

It has its ghastly moments...  I think even those of us who have lived in the same place all our years have had occasions when we look around us and wonder to ourselves, "What in the heck is going on here?  What's wrong with these people?!"  But what the story really inspired in me was a sense of irritation.  Look, Mrs. Walpole, there are some harsh people in the country, certainly, but don't try to tell me that city folk are much different.  They can be just as callous and cruel, in their own ways. 


Messages to Mrs. Walpole:
#1:  Put up a fence.  Keep the dog in the fenced yard/enclosure, except when she's on a leash.  Problem solved!  (Well... unless the dog digs out or can jump the fence... It may take some persistence.)

#2: You don't have to be the perfect home-maker, wife, and mother.  It's not all up to you.  Get Mr. Walpole involved in this issue with the dog, for goodness' sake!

#3:  If you don't want your kids to turn into hard-hearted country people (who think it's hilarious to contemplate abusing their own pet dog, because apparently all country people find that so diverting), step into their lives and do something about it.  Perhaps talk to them about it?  (No, now I'm just being ridiculous...)


Message to myself:
It's just a short story; these aren't real people.  Calm down!   


I thought this bit was funny:
"Mrs. Walpole decided suddenly to put her wash off until tomorrow.  They had not lived in the country town long enough for Mrs. Walpole to feel the disgrace of washing on Tuesday as mortal." 

I always (except on long weekends) do our laundry on Monday, incidentally.  I'm not sure when I started... For a while, I don't think I was even conscious that I had fallen into that routine, but it is now a definite "thing" in our home.  If nothing else, it's a good use of that increased Monday-level cleaning stamina (the result of watching the house fall into disarray over a lazy weekend).  Now if I could only find a way to make the urge to clean last further into the week...

"The Witch"

"The Witch"
from The Lottery and Other Stories, by Shirley Jackson

Good grief!  What an unsettling little tidbit of a story...