This morning, I read a short story by Shirley Jackson. She’s famous for The Haunting of Hill House. Today’s story was called The Lottery. It apparently elicited the biggest post bag the New Yorker magazine had seen for a piece of fiction. Jackson said, later, that there were only a few positive ones, and they were mostly from friends and family. That was an understatement but many of the responses ranged from the perplexed to the downright antagonistic. And a few people even wanted to know which small villages in America still held this lottery so that they could go and watch.
It was first published in the magazine in 1948 when the Second World War was being replaced by the Cold War, and when Joseph McCarthy and J. Edgar Hoover were stoking up US paranoia against the ‘Red Scare’. How could this short story cause such a ruckus in the midst of that then? For a start, the New Yorker at that time did not mark the difference between fiction and non-fiction, so it wasn’t quite beyond the realms of possibility that such a village could exist, especially in such a tumultuous time. Only ten years previously Orson Welles had scared so many listeners into believing that his adaptation of The War of the Worlds was real.
At the moment, with life and my course work, I’ve not got the time to read novels. Short stories, then, seem to be a good compromise. I haven’t read all that many, but I realised, as I was getting into it, that I had actually read this one before but I couldn’t remember the ending. At this point, if you know it, you’ll probably be tearing your hair out thinking how on earth I could possibly forget how it ends! It was the reason everyone had been so up in arms, why so many subscriptions to the magazine were cancelled. One letter writer attested that she had ‘read The Lottery three times with increasing shock and horror’ and another wrote ‘I read it while soaking in the tub … and was tempted to put my head underwater and end it all’.
In my defence, I do have a godawful memory but I think my brain was actually doing a little self-preservation by voiding out the trauma. A good short story, and I think this is a very good one, is one where all the words matter. Where the sentences are tightly woven and nothing is superfluous. So, although it may only take you twenty minutes to read, it resonates with you for so much longer. You probably re-read it a couple more times in order to appreciate the layers of meaning. The person asked to respond to all the New Yorker correspondence said that, ‘Miss Jackson’s story can be interpreted in half a dozen different ways. It’s just a fable. … She has chosen a nameless little village, to show, in microcosm, how the forces of belligerence, persecution, and vindictiveness are, in mankind, endless and traditional and that their targets are chosen without reason.’
So what actually happens in The Lottery? I’ll leave that for you to find out. It is a very simple story, and doesn’t take long at all to read. I know I loved it, and was traumatised by it. But as I’ve shown, it didn’t float everyone’s boat.
theleadlesspencil 
Glad I took 20 mins to listen to the story. I found the language at times a little stilted at times but then again same can be said for other books in different times. It was enlightening to know there was no overt differentiation between fact or fiction. However I find it strange anyone in that era could not figure that aspect out. As you say there are overtures of the times but also perhaps even going back to biblical times, but it does remind you of TV series and films of you may have sat through in the past. Thank you
Yes, but I think we are inured in this era to horrifying scenarios. In 1948, despite having followed one of the worst cases of man’s inhumanity to man, they weren’t expecting such a turn of events. Especially with the start the way it is. As you go through, you realise it’s laced with clues and, yes, it’s probably more obvious now than it would have been then, but it still sucker-punched me! Really glad you had a listen.
Probably it was an era thing. How anyone could think that not only in this village but in lots of others apparently could events take place and not have previously flagged up to the people of US. Having said that within my lifetime (and probably still happening) that the US was split on issues of colour etc and the obvious overtones in the story of the atrocity of WWII and the Russian labour camps. It seems as humans we never learn or possibly it is a trait that turned up to 10 for some people,
I always love books that make you gasp whether it’s page 20 or 200, even if you’re guessing something isn’t quite right.
WHAT?….now I have to read it…..but you’re right. here in Canada where we had interment camps everywhere, and while we had the underground railroad, we also had segregation, and racism is still way too prevelent..and it seems we keep looking for others to attack (anything trans or for goodness sake drag queens are the current target)
We are very good at being judge, jury, executioner sadly
Thanks for sharing this Rita, the story is very thought provoking for such a short piece. Without giving anything away, I admire the way the author builds the suspense and portrays the mood so simply, particularly the mood change, although I think she leaves it up to us to imagine the mood at the end. Your comment that every word matters is spot on.
Yes, I’m glad you read it, I thought it was powerful. If you’ve not read The Haunting of Hill House, I recommend it. Stephen King says that her writing was a big influence.