Miss Jackson, If You're Nasty

Shirley Jackson is nutty as all get out. In a repressed 1950sish woman sort of way. I remember years ago reading a few short stories from her book The Lottery and Other Stories and thinking how strange and unappealing they were. And yet they stuck with me. I still vividly recall "The Tooth" and how unsettling and yet somehow amusing it was. I was the type of kid who tried reading things way over her head because she'd heard they were good/smart/classics. While I mostly just loved reading, I'll admit there was a little hopeful arrogance, too. I knew I was never going to be cool so I hoped maybe I could be smarter than the cool people and that when I was older and smart was finally (please, please, pleaaaase!) important to people other than my teachers, I'd have it made.

I digress.

Several times I've reread things I tried years ago but couldn't quite get in to (praise be, or I never would have reread Me Talk Pretty One Day and discovered the joy that is David Sedaris!) After reading and thoroughly enjoying The Haunting of Hill House last year I decided to give Jackson another go. I was again rewarded in my rereading of The Lottery and Other Stories. While there is a range of subjects, most of them in some way or other revolve around an individual woman and how she is interacting with the world around her and the people in it--often attempting to be winning and sociable but becoming bewildered or falling into fear or a sort of cold, hardness. In a number of them the story becomes increasingly unsettling and it's hard to pinpoint why. Jackson writes casually and in a seemingly straightfoward way, but I (often along with the main character) find myself becoming wary of the situation and surrounding people, sometimes even with a sense of foreboding or fear. I can't even remotely explain it other than to liken it to sitting in a public place with a person who is smiling and telling you in a very calm, matter of fact voice all the terrible things they're going to do to you, but the worst part is that no one around you seems to think there is anything wrong. And maybe there isn't.

Poor Liz. For days, as I was reading the book, I'd just burst out with "Aaaaah! Waaaaugh! What!?! W-wh-what's happening!? She's...she's so WEIRD! BAH! I don't know what to do with this!" It was so unlike anything I'd read before that I was pleased, frustrated, befuddled and enchanted. I loved every minute of it.

(NOTE TO THOSE WHO ACTUALLY READ THE BOOK: You can also play a fun game with it: several of the stories throughout are subtly linked together--try and figure out how!)