If there is a literary queen of Halloween, perhaps it should be Shirley Jackson. Over twenty years of writing, Jackson left us with six novels (1959's "The Haunting of Hill House") and more than 200 short stories. Jackson's short stories will be our focus because they are easy to read and re-read while presenting a wealth of interpretations.
On June 26, 1948, Jackson's short story "The Lottery" was published in the esteemed New Yorker magazine. While the children of this small village gather stones for this annual event to insure a good harvest (Old Man Warner quotes "Lottery in June/corn be heavy soon,") we as readers continue to surmise that something far more sinister is in play.
While the sense of impending doom likely lead nearly everyone who encountered it to read the story, "The Lottery" was so controversial New Yorker subscriptions were canceled over its publication and torrents of hate mail followed the magazine and even Jackson for the rest of 1948.
Jackson came to writing from the drudgery of daily life as a housewife. After a few years of being anesthetized by alcohol and pills, Jackson emerged with a dominant voice in fiction. The esteemed Harold Bloom once said, "her art of narration stays on the surface" and championed her work for inclusion in the Western canon.
One year after "The Lottery," Jackson wrote "The Witch." What some may see as a short study of description and tension, may actually function as a means to change her voice as a writer. "The Witch" may seem like a trifle, but it really is not. Jackson opens with the longest and most obfuscating description. All in one paragraph, Jackson captures the topsy-turvy world of a mother of two young children on a crowded train and the ability of children in their minds to travel anywhere when they do not truly understand the existence of good and evil.
Our protagonist is a little boy who is dreamily staring out the window. His outward and inward narration are both designed to maintain even the smallest level of attention of his mother who is likely keeping a closer eye on her much younger baby. With no names and only descriptors, "The Witch" could be happening almost anywhere at any time. Jackson provides us with no details on how anyone is dressed (which could take away from the timelessness of the story) and presents us with a transient group of people with fleeting relations.
The little boy is so matter-of-fact ("we're on a river, this is a river and we're on it." that Jackson exposes not only a discovery of details but a strange logic. In addition, the little boy's second most repeated line "How far do we have to go?" is technically constructed to elicit the most obvious response and dialed in attention from a mother distracted by other duties and her escape into a book.
We learn that the little boy is actually good when he jumps to help his crying sister. However we also chillingly learn that is seated across an aisle from his mother and sister where any passerby might actually choose to sit next to him. It is too hard to say whether his act of kindness or display of freedom (sliding down the seat on his own and crossing the aisle) earned him the right for his first chilling declaration. However, the minute he blurts out "I saw a witch. There was a big old ugly old bad old witch outside." Either way, the statement is enough to raise the tension in the train car.
With Mother now tuning him out, the monologue goes internal where his inner world is about to receive a visit from an outsider. To the little boy, this man is tall and foreboding - but the attention is worth a chance. On the other hand, the man plays along as everyone would with a young staring child. Moreover, Jackson makes him a participant first (when the little boy says he is looking for witches, the old man says "I see...find many?") and a co-conspirator second (after the little boy gives an exaggerated age and the mother provides the correct one, the old man acknowledges the little boy's choice in age.)
Within just a few paragraphs, Jackson has not only perfectly established a universal and timeless situation, she built tension between the three characters merely through their unfamiliarity with this "intrusion" into the situation. Moreover, there is no need for descriptions of clutched hands, shifting eyes, or even staring turning to glaring. Those decisions are left up to you as the reader. The framework of the story is Jackson's, the subtext is all yours.
From this portion of the journey, we can go no further together. The enticement is here. What will the man ask next? Is he playing along or slowly taking the reins so he can lead things along himself? While these are decisions we make every day in conversation with people, parsing them down to this elemental level by Jackson is truly where the tension ratchets up. Like Highsmith/Hitchcock's "Strangers On A Train," the sheer implication of anonymity allows one to almost certainly make up some details about who they are/what they are doing just for a momentary escape from the repetitiveness of this method of travel and its given sense of time not applying.
The simple fact is this is a short story almost anyone can read. While it is rarely listed with the other exemplary works of Shirley Jackson, it makes sense that it may truly be Jackson's first experiment with toying with the audience just as much as the characters on her page. Finally, it may also be possible that this story planted the seed in her to begin calling herself "a witch."
Mik Davis is the record store manager at T-Bones Records & Cafe in Hattiesburg.
New This Week
RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS - Return of the Dream Canteen
[GOLD 2LP with EXTRA TRACK/CD/CS](Warner)
On their second double album of 2022, the mammoth recording sessions with the "Blood Sugar Sex Magik"-era RHCP incarnation including producer Rick Rubin bring more jammy/funky fun than the wide scope of "Unlimited Love." Guitarist John Frusciante (whose guitar solo on the "Unlimited Love" track "Black Rainbow" is that album's best moment) says he prefers "Dream Canteen" for its sense of adventure.
1975 - Being Funny In A Foreign Language
[LP/CD/CS](Dirty Hit/Republic)
The latest from Matty Healy and 1975 is as much about documenting its circuitous path to being made as it is about surviving the lockdown and canceled shows. Work began with producer BJ Burton (who did an extraordinary job of making Low's "Double Negative" and "Hey What" revitalize their career.) However, as much as Healy admired Burton's work - the work ethic was no match. Once you hear singles like the sparkling "I'm in Love With You" and the power ballad "All I Need To Hear," it is easy to hear how the band really needed Pop super-producer Jack Antonoff. While the hallmarks of Antonoff's production are here (the sheen of "Happiness,") even he thought the band deserved a new sound. As a result, "Being Funny" sounds far more live than previous efforts. Singing together or using room sound, Healy and company actually stand out more. If they had to launch this idea with BJ Burton and then perfect it with Jack Antonoff, then "Being Funny" should have everyone singing along.
PLAINS - I Walked With You A Ways
[LP/CD](ANTI/Epitaph/AMPED)
When a pair of great female singer/songwriters join forces, the best ones actually renew the other's writing and voice. Jess Williamson was already one of the best new down-to-earth AAA/Americana out there. Stepping back into more rustic (read Country) writing than 2020's "Sorceress, " Williamson and longtime critical fave Katie Crutchfield of Waxahatchee tangle their honeyed voices together like a pair of Emmylou. "Problem With It" has that AAA jangle and some nicely rhythmic lyrics. "Abilene" is a bit more confessional but both Willamson and Crutchfield really connect with their heartfelt vocals. As much of a triumph as Katie's "Saint Cloud" was, Plains is another showcase for clear-eyed writing and a devotion to finding the right melody to elicit emotion.
REISSUES OF THE WEEK
FLEETWOOD MAC (1975) [LP](Warner)
Where the myth of Fleetwood Mac becomes legend. From their earthy-meets-authentic mixture of Blues beginnings (the essential Peter Green and the underrated Jeremy Spencer and Danny Kirwan) through the woodshed-to-commercial switch (mainly the late Bob Welch,) Mick Fleetwood and John McVie learned almost everything it took to be a rhythm section for any sound. When the smoke cleared in 1975, it was Fleetwood, McVie, and his wife Christine (who had just dismissed the second keyboardist.) Moving their home base to the more relaxed California, the AOR hits ("Sentimental Lady" and "Hypnotized") proved that the Mac had staying power. Welch walked and Fleetwood sought help finding a replacement from Keith Olsen at Sound City studios.
Upon hearing a guitar solo on "Frozen Love" by the duo Buckingham NIcks, Fleetwood knew the band had its new guitar player. Trouble was, Buckingham demanded Nicks join as well. Immediately, the band's chemistry was altered. Buckingham's soon-to-be-legendary demand in the studio raised the bar for their writing and recording. While Nicks was writing songs that could draw in the female audience that did not quite get Christine's songs. However, they had to go on tour and fine-tune this lineup before things fell apart again.
Christine's "Over My Head" was first out of the gate. A breezy Sausalito flavored Pop hit, it landed them back in the Top 20 again. By February, Stevie's haunting/enchanting "Rhiannon" was next. As a very uncharacteristic Mac song it slowly rose up the charts until June. Finally, they pushed out the summery "Say You Love Me" in June and solidified their place on the charts. By September 1976, "Fleetwood Mac" was #1. Fifteen months of solid touring, AOR stations, Pop stations, and even Soft Rock stations were all deep into the new incarnation. Now, with their new brand in place, "Fleetwood Mac" would solidly sell long enough to record the follow-up whose first single Lindsey's "Go Your Own Way" was slated for December 1976 release. While playing the new cuts on tour that fall, John McVie suggested a title for the album that matched the feeling that they were going through their "journals and diaries."
THE STOOGES - The Stooges/Fun House [LP](Rhino)
The twin texts of Ur-Punk are hereby reissued for consumption. In 1969 and 1970, this pair of masterpieces from Ann Arbor's The Stooges was highly misunderstood. Signed in tandem with the ballyhooed MC5 (note: Put them in the Rock N'Roll Hall of Fame!) it is understandable how Iggy and his basement band would feel inferior. So, they summoned that underdog spirit and gave us next-level Garage Rock that flamed hotter than cylinders of Napalm. The purposefully "dumb" fun of the debut revealed menace ("No Fun" and "I Wanna Be Your Dog") that was a glimpse into the crystal ball leading us to Glam, Punk, and even Alternative. "Real Cool Time" could be dated but is not, "1969" is dated but remains a searing document of a decade that ripped open the nation.
While the studio with Velvet Underground's John Cale was by no means sterile, The Stooges wanted a record that captured their live fury. So asking Kingsmen ("Louie Louie") keyboardist Don Gallucci to produce the follow-up was probably not what Elektra had in mind. When Gallucci tore all the baffling in their studio down to get The Stooges a place to set up as they would play live, that might have been the next-to-last nail in their coffin. Nonetheless, the multiple takes (many of which you can hear in the old completist box set) allowed the Stooges to get the right energy. That alone makes "Fun House" a quantum leap from the debut. Side One is a straight classic. "Down In The Street" is the definition of a streetwalking cheetah getting its strut. "Loose" translates the menace of the debut into one long primal scream. "T.V.Eye" turns the ordinary loss of one's self in the camera lens into an animal tearing through its cage. While "Dirt" is junk menace fed through violent, hard-hitting slow blues. Side Two is the decimator. "1970" is not just a sequel to "1969" but the definition of what will be the Stooges sound. "Fun House" and "L.A.Blues" bring in saxophone player Steve Mackay and channel Free Jazz into Punk Rock and No Wave. The Stooges saw what was coming and it was a bleak, desperate yowl of existentialism.
Given the problems labelmate, Jim Morrison encountered on the road, Iggy's (then Stooge, now Pop was the original "stage diver.") antics were discouraged. With very few critics in support (Robert Christgau, Lester Bangs) and no sales or hints of radio play, Elektra dropped them from the label. Label owner Jac Holzman was kind enough to give Iggy a camera on the way out. Perhaps, Holzman at least knew that Iggy saw the future.
All three classics. Indispensable.
