A quiet, terrific, slowly building story of dread by the great Shirley Jackson. Music Credits: Sleep Time By Rafael Archangel Music promoted on www.chosic.com/ You Can’t Beat The Machine By Komiku www.chosic.com/
What makes Shirley Jackson's stories so all-consuming, suspenseful and foreboding is her ability to grip the reader (or listener as you hear this story narrated) with identification with the protagonist. In this one, misdirection is done with such subtlety, you don't realize until the end, that Barrister's paranoia like the story is one huge misdirection. What she does in this story and the other I listened to, The Bus is more than provoke thought. Her truncated denouements, encourage a listener/reader to project the plot forward. I found myself thinking oh so, it must have been a plan between the wife and the other man, attempting to trap and what? Kill him? No, wait they must've been more conspirators than the wife and I guess lover....see what I mean plot projection. The bus driver, and the clerk in the store, are seemingly a part of this grand design to somehow trap Barrister, The vagary is intentional on Jackson's part I'm sure. You are drawn into a state of calculating suspicion like Barrister as he becomes aware that the man in the light hat is more than surveilling him. Finally, you are repelled with a sense of doom when his own spouse reveals she is part of the malevolent gang that has assailed him. You can't help but project what must likely happen after the last sentence was penned. Shirley Jackson, you're a new favorite author for me! I know you've been gone now for many years, but fiction like this is to use a cliché timeless.
At 19:40 , the tan building looks like the one used for Led Zepplin's album , "Physical Graffiti".... where you could change the pictures in the windows by rearranging the inner sleeves . Guess I just dated myself ! Lol Good story , thanks !
I think there was a rather long critical essay about Jackson in the LRB that inferred a “ bad” marriage or just the limits of even a happy domesticity for brilliant women. It didn’t do much for Sylvia Plath toiling beneath that Bell Jar! A radical statement about the ordinary lives of most women then would go unnoticed today. Ordinary women may lead extraordinary lives openly. But are we writing as well… is something unenviable forged in that thing we inherit as duty.
KSometimes I wonder whether the world between Jackson’s ears was a ready leap from the horrible redundancy of mid century domesticity when so many middle class women suffered from what Friedan called the thing that has no name. The-mind can play terrible tricks ! Artists are fortunate to have a medium, a practice for all that thought. They don’t lose touch with reality at least not immediately and we the ordinary folk are consoled, becalmedm or simply distracted into relief from our own redundancy.
I prefer her stories read by a woman. A male voice does not have the resonance needed to enjoy Shirley Jackson's books. Just natters on, Sorry. Good choice.
@@WindyNightStories Here's a good video about her life. ru-vid.com/video/%D0%B2%D0%B8%D0%B4%D0%B5%D0%BE-oZwJEUN6Rnk.html According to this, her husband, and mother were both pieces of work!
