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#the haunting of blackwood house

magicoleanders · 9 months

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one of my pet peeves with the way Shirley Jackson’s work is perceived in pop culture is when people is when people suggest Hill House or We Have Always Lived in the Castle as spooky season/fall/Halloween reads when they are so clearly a summer book and a spring book, respectively. does Eleanor saying “Time is beginning this morning in June” and Merricat saying “The sun was shining and the false glorious promises of spring were everywhere” mean nothing to you people??

#also if you want a good fall Shirley book Hangsaman is right there #the haunting of hill house #we have always lived in the castle #shirley jackson #eleanor vance #merricat blackwood

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deadwhisper · 1 month

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It gets spookier...

I think Jonathan Sims would frown in displeasure if he saw this title and argue about how everything that I find spooky is nothing short of an auditory hallucination even though he himself exists in the hallucination! But that apart WOAH!!!! the plot keeps getting more weird and scary!!

Anyway here is my doodle/ TMA fanart for that episode-

also the names and the flames and they way Gerad Keay is stealing my heart for no reason!!!! WHAT IS HAPPENING!!!!

But no seriously, the story is so well narrated that all of it is so vivid and haunting. I am enjoying this alot do far!

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devilofthepit · 1 year

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sometimes u will just relate a little too much to shirley jackson’s outcast female characters. and that’s okay

#this is about eleanor crain and merricat blackwood #shirley jackson #the haunting of hill house #we have always lived in the castle

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wehavealwayslivedinhillhouse · 2 years

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Eleanor Vance is an unreliable narrator but Merricat is NOT. Merricat doesn't tell the objective truth, but she never lies. She simply tells the truth as she sees it. People, even scholars, misunderstand that about her. Merricat is very honest; it's her own twisted view of the world that isn't.

#if anyone is an unreliable narrator in WHALITC it's Constance #we have always lived in the castle #merricat blackwood #the haunting of hill house #eleanor vance #shirley jackson #meta

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xxdrowninglessonsxx · 1 month

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Book Review - We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

I will preface this by saying that this is a masterpiece of a book. Personally what I picked up on at first was the foreshadowing because the reader is essentially told from the beginning that Merricat “did it” with the famous opening paragraph. It’s up to the reader to accept that Merricat is the murderer and an unreliable narrator. It’s evident she’s stuck in the headspace of when she committed the crime because she spends a lot of her time daydreaming and thinking about killing the villagers and walking over their dead bodies. The way Shirley Jackson writes the foreshadowing is, dare I say, perfect because it leaves the reader guessing as to what is going to happen next and what has already happened in the past. Not to mention, Uncle Julian’s dialogue is framed in a way that gives the reader just enough information to stay curious and keep reading. Personally, I guessed it was Merricat from the beginning but I truly knew she killed her family when Uncle Julian said the Merricat had died in the orphanage when Constance was on trial. Merricat and Uncle Julian never actually interact with each other once throughout the book if you go back and look, whether Julian believes her to be truly dead, or whether Merricat forbids herself, or even a mixture of fear from both parties. I suspected as well when Merricat would say things along the lines of how she isn’t allowed to prepare the food or do certain things, as if giving herself rules. The dialogue toys with the readers mind, as if interacting as the story plays out. I’ve seen other people on the reviews say that the story drones on, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. The story, in fact, refuses to drone on; it gets straight to the fact of the matter. Every word, line, and paragraph have meaning. Shirley Jackson wrote a story so great within 200 pages what other authors couldn’t achieve in 500. The climax is phenomenal - the symbolism of the house burning shows the cruelty of the townspeople and how they see the Blackwoods as “other.” They destroy their house more after the fire is put out, breaking windows, destroying the property, forcing Merricat and Constance to flee with only strengthens what is best described as a trauma bond because they feel so ostracized. Then, once in the woods, Merricat states she wants to poison the villagers food, and Constance replies with “The way you did before?” And Merricat replies back and says, “Yes, the way I did before.” The long asked question is finally answered.

As I was saying before, every interaction and the behavior between characters has a meaning, and it is so crystal clear. Take a look at the OCD rituals both sisters exhibit. How Merricat feel “guilty” and wants to make a point to be kinder to Uncle Julian. I say “guilty” because I don’t believe she truly feels guilt. It should be noted that her goal is to be isolated with Constance. After the climax (the fire and the reveal of the murderer), despite what Merricat has done, Constance reprises her role and continues to choose Merricat, choosing to be complicit once more. Think of how Constance washed the sugar dish because “there was a spider in it.” Ultimately, Merricat gets exactly what she wanted because to my knowledge, Merricat allows Constance to believe that Charles was the one who burned the house down even though Merricat was the one who threw the pipe in the trash can. Because of this as well, the reader realizes Merricat doesn’t feel guilty because she met her end goal. She even tells Constance that she knew she would like “living on the moon.”

However let’s not forget about Charles. By no means is he a good person. Merricat equates him to a ghost and a demon after he arrives, comparing him to their father. He sleeps in John Blackwood’s room, wears his clothes and jewelry, and even eats at the same spot at the dinner table, and it’s implied that he has similar behaviors as John Blackwood. He’s a trigger for Merricat because he disrupts their isolation and he’s after their money. In Merricat’s mind, he intends to steal Constance away, and Merricat refuses to allow that to happen.

I could go on for longer, but whoever reads this review will understand the point. Shirley Jackson has a way with words, and I would be lucky to write a story with just an inkling of the power that this story holds. She deserves to be more appreciated. I’m going to read The Haunting of Hill House next.

#book review #horror #gothic horror #gothic novel #we have always lived in the castle #shirley jackson #review #classic horror #merricat blackwood #constance blackwood #uncle julian blackwood #charles blackwood #the lottery #the haunting of hill house

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alliluyevas · 1 year

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If you had to have one asoiaf aesthetic for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Ignore all morality of the houses or political views, just pure aesthetics - like fashion, environment, climate, housing, location, symbols and sigils, songs if they have, moto, general vibe etc. Just for fun, it could be different answers for the different parts of this question.

just picking one house, Tullys! The Riverlands and Riverrun sound really pretty, red + blue are good colors for me, and I like their motto and sigil as well. It's understated but very nice. I'm kind of an ocean/water girl and those are the aesthetics I'm most drawn to for the houses...I actually really dig the Iron Islands but I'm not sure it would work for me individually, Lannisters are ocean-related but too glitzy/in-your-face, and I really like the Stormlands/Baratheon aesthetics but I do not think black and yellow would flatter me. So Tully it is!

In terms of minor houses, I really dig both the Manderlys and the Blackwoods. The Blackwoods have one of the coolest sigils ever, the Manderlys have nice colors + sigil + White Harbor sounds like a nice place to live. Also, I like that the Blackwoods are a Riverlands house but still worship the old gods and the Manderlys are the only Northern house that follows the Seven. I think that's a very interesting sort of mixed-culture split that I'm intrigued by!

I do really like the North and the Iron Islands like narratively but I don't think I'm hardcore enough for them, lol. (Obviously the Manderlys are extremely hardcore too but at least on the surface I feel like their vibe is different from most Northern houses and gels more with me).

#BLACKWOOD SWEEP sorry house bracken. youre just not as cool #i do love a haunted locale like harrenhal etc but would i want to live there? no thanks

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queenofbaws · 1 year

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lies down and thinks about the haunted houses in ud and tq and how at the end of the day the horrors that happened there were so similar but the circumstances around them so different, how the washingtons' property is vacant and empty and full of dust sheet ghosts that keep the living away with memories of guilt while the hacketts' is cramped and chaotic and sweaty and much too full of things and objects and signs of life both current and past, how in one your fear comes from knowing no matter how loud you scream you're completely isolated and in the other you if you breathe too loudly there's no telling how many hands will reach out to drag you down into the waiting dark, and how by the time the sun rises in the morning both will swallow their daughters whole and offer no consolation

so how are your friday nights going?

#queenie rambles about supermassive #i had a very long couple days in preparation for a family thing and im VERY tired today but man #i got them HAUNTED HOUSE EMOTIONS going on #once upon a time i used to write sprawling spRAWLING pages of meta in the kingdom hearts fandom #dont do that so much anymore #but ya gurl is fuckin FATIGUED today and OH the blackwood lodge and hackett house have me by the fuckin throat

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annafromuni · 6 months

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A Haunted House and an Old Library - I Immediately Love It

The Last Heir to Blackwood Library is my first Hester Fox book, though after this is certain won’t be my last. The setting is 1925 London and a woman finds herself the sole heir to an old estate in Yorkshire, an estate that has been owned by a very distant branch of her family. With little tying her to London and a legal demand requiring her to live on the estate, she heads up to Yorkshire and…

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#the last heir to blackwood library #hester fox #historical fiction thriller #historical fiction mystery #mystery thriller #haunted house #haunted library #gothic fiction #magical realism #spooky reads #spooky books #book review

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songforeddiemunson · 2 months

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Haunting in Blackwood Hollow

An Eddie Munson x F!Reader Miniseries

Series Summary: It’s the year 1991. Eddie and reader check into a rented house in the Appalachian woods, joined by Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, and Robin. Unfortunately for our gang, things in Blackwood Hollow are never as they appear.

Tropes: established relationship, Jonathan x Nancy, no mention of the events from ST, smut, comedy, fluff, scares, bit of whump (but nothing too crazy)

Series Warnings: Swearing, drinking and weed use, sexual and scary situations, minors please DNI.

Chapter One: Steve's Big Mistake

Chapter warnings: naughty language, mentions of drinking, weed use. This is largely setting the scene babes. Author's Note: Submission for @stcreators Event 5: Dynamics Submission for @somnambulic-thing, @allthingsjoeq, and @bettyfrommars event: strangerprompts (#14) {Okay so I took a bit of liberty with the prompt, but that's just how my brain wanted to do it! You know how that goes. ;) }

Word Count: ~2K

You swore under your breath as the taxi pulled away, leaving you staring at the monstrosity you were meant to be staying in for the weekend.

“This is the last time I leave that jackass in charge of anything,” you muttered, prompting a snort from Eddie, who stood beside you.

You liked Steve. Loved him even, in the way that friends that have known each other for years did, who’d seen each other at their worst, thick as thieves, none of that ‘will they or won’t they’ shit, especially after you started seeing Eddie. But in that moment, you could strangle him.

Most of your group of friends had scattered to the four corners of the country, so when you all received your invitations to Joyce Byers’ and Jim Hopper’s wedding in the Smoky Mountains, you decided to rent a whole house instead of getting hotel rooms. Correction: Steve came up with the idea to rent a house, and admittedly it was a good plan. It would likely be cheaper to pool your resources, and you could all hang out in the common areas and catch up.

And then you saw the house.

It was a stereotype in peeling paint and dilapidated wood. The porch was creaky and appeared to be on the verge of collapse. Gnarled old vines and weeds encroached from every direction; you thought maybe it had been landscaped last sometime in the 1960s. A broken old fountain sat on the front lawn, with a scummy green puddle of rainwater gathered at the bottom, and there was a broken gate that hung loose on its hinges near the drive.

Eddie tilted his head in a manner reminiscent of a terrier as he surveyed the old structure. “I think it looks kinda cool, like that house in IT. The house on Neibolt Street, remember?”

You blinked at your paramour. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to spend the weekend in a house like that. It’s one thing to read about it in a spooky story, it’s another thing to actually sleep there.” He had the good grace to laugh at that sentiment.

“Fair enough,” he conceded.

Of all the houses in Asheville, Tennessee, THIS is the one he chooses? You thought bitterly as you made your way up the walkway toward the porch, stepping carefully on the worn wood and looking for nails that could be lying in wait to impale your foot.

You had no idea if anyone else had already arrived, and whether you were supposed to knock or just walk in. You had decided to try the former, but your knuckles hadn’t had a chance to make contact with the wood before the door was whipped open, revealing a clearly exasperated Robin.

“Omigosh you’re here!” she cried joyfully as she threw her arms around you. You let your weekend bag drop to the porch as you reciprocated the hug.

“Robin! I’m so glad to see you!” you cooed as you gave her a good squeeze then released her. “But what the hell is this house?”

“Right?! I feel like it’s right out of a Scoobie Doo episode or something. Talk about creepy. Eddie! Hi!”

“I’ve seen worse,” a deeper voice intoned from out of eyesight, shortly before Steve stepped into the foyer.

“Steve! It’s lovely to see you, but what the fuck?” you scolded.

Steve’s expression was so sheepish that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“I know, I know,” he moaned, before putting his face in his hands.

“Come here and hug me, loser. I haven’t seen you in almost two years and you’re gonna make me sleep in the house from Amityville Horror?”

“Hey now,” Robin countered, “The Amityville Horror house was waaay nicer than this.”

“True. Eddie said it looked like the house from IT.”

“Oooh yes! That fits,” Robin said.

“What’s that? It?” Steve asked, never one to embrace pop culture.

You hugged Steve despite wanting to hurt him a little bit. “Nevermind. So what were you thinking with this house?”

“Okay so in my defense the pictures were much nicer in the Want Ad, and in black and white. I didn’t realize it was going to be so…”

“Shabby?” you offered while Robin said “terrifying” at the same time.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a shrug.

Eddie chuckled as he hugged his friends by way of greeting. “Alright well, as long as the bed is clean, I don't really care,” he said. “This one is scared of spiders,” he said, gesturing toward you.

“I am not, you are!” you yelled.

“I am NOT afraid of spiders,” Eddie replied defensively. “It’s those fucking centipede things with all the legs. I hate those things.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure there are plenty of things in this house to trigger all our phobias.”

The interior was a little less gloomy than its exterior, but that wasn’t saying much. The common room in which you were standing was decorated in 50 year-old wallpaper that was peeling and yellowing. The floors were hard wood but hadn’t been refinished since the wallpaper was installed, and the dusty old upholstery was flat and worn around the edges.

“Where are we sleeping, anyway?”

“There’s three bedrooms, one with a queen and two with a pair of singles. I figured we could draw straws or someth–”

“Dibs on the queen!” Eddie shouted.

“Eddie, we have to–” you began.

“Nah babe. We’re a couple, and we got here first. You snooze, you lose.”

“I think that’s fair,” Robin said with a shrug.

“Nancy and Jonathan won’t love that,” Steve said. “But you can fight it out amongst yourselves. I’m staying out of it. Looks like you’re bunking with me, Robin.”

“I don’t care, as long as you don’t snore.”

Nancy and Jonathan arrived about an hour later, and while they weren’t thrilled to be relegated to a pair of twin beds, they conceded that Eddie did in fact call dibs.

“I feel like we’re eighteen again,” Nancy laughed as she explored the kitchen for a clean glass for water. “Calling dibs and bunking up together. Feels like old times.”

“It does,” you agreed from where you were leaning against the counter. “I don’t know if I would use any of the dishes in this house though.”

“I might just make a store run, get some solo cups and paper plates,” she said as she put one grimy glass back in the cupboard with a look of distaste. “Any requests?”

“Oooh, cheez-its, snapple peach tea, pizza pretzel combos…”

“PBR,” Eddie contributed as he sidled up next to you and bent to give you a quick peck on the lips.

“Well of course,” Nancy said with a smile. “Can’t forget the beer.”

Robin poked her head into the room. “Grab a couple of pizzas! I’ll give you cash.”

You all pitched in for the snacks and sent Nancy on her way as the sun began its descent behind the trees. The rest of you gathered in the living room to figure out what to do for the night.

“Care for a toke?” Eddie asked, as he held up a joint he pulled from his jacket and set it alight.

“Yessss,” Jonathan replied with enthusiasm, leaning forward to pinch the little joint between his fingers.

“That didn’t take long,” Steve said with a roll of his eyes.

“Lighten up, Harrington,” Jonathan said in a fragrant plume of exhalation, stifling a cough. “You could probably use this more than the rest of us. You’re too wound up.”

“It’s true Steve, why are you always so stressed out?” you asked, taking a pull from the joint.

“I don’t know, I just feel like I’m the responsible one–” he began, but was cut off by a chorus of jeers and naysaying.

“You think you’re the responsible one, but everyone knows it’s Nancy,” Robin said, laughing.

“Yeah man, like…the King Steve days are over, you can stop trying so hard,” Eddie added with a grin.

“Okay, okay, I get it…” Steve said, accepting his ribbing with a modicum of grace. His voice trailed off, however, as his attention was pulled in another direction. “Hey what’s that?”

“What?” you and Jonathan asked at the same time, following his gaze.

“It’s on top of that bookshelf…” he began, already getting up and walking toward it. He had to stand on the tips of his toes to reach it, and pulled it down, unleashing a cloud of dust and grime.

“What is it?” Eddie asked.

Steve brushed the dust off the cover before looking up at you with wide eyes.

“It’s a ouija board,” he said.

“Oh shit,” Eddie said, laughing. "You can't be serious."

“What! No, no thank you!” Robin yelled.

“I dunno man, you might want to put that back and pretend you never saw it,” Jonathan added with a smirk.

“What, nah, that stuff isn’t real,” you said.

“No, it’s not,” Steve agreed. “It’s just a silly game.”

“If it’s just a silly game,” Eddie taunted, "why don’t we take it for a spin?”

“Oh man, no, don’t give him any ideas,” Robin piped in with her trademarked ‘mile-a-minute’ cadence. “Did you see the movie Witchboard? Well I did, and I didn’t sleep for a week afterward. Too scary for me. And it’s kinda weird that that thing just shows up in the spookiest house I’ve ever seen, and we’re in the middle of nowhere and…”

“What’s Witchboard?” Steve asked.

“Dude, watch a movie…” Eddie moaned while Jonathan doubled-over laughing.

Steve laid the box down on the coffee table. “Well, just because there was a movie about these things doesn’t make them real. The Princess Bride isn’t exactly real either.”

Eddie gasped with mock incredulity. “It’s NOT?”

“Have fun NOT storming the castle I guess,” Jonathan tried to say without laughing, which came out as a choked squeal.

“Inconceivable!” you yelled, making the entire room erupt in hearty laughter and dispelling some of the unease that had grown since the discovery of the ouija board.

“Jesus guys, are you that stoned already?” Steve asked with a smile.

“Eddie only buys the good stuff,” you said.

“Zero to zooted within three hits, or your money back,” Eddie said before taking another pull from the joint.

“Good to know,” Steve said sarcastically. “So are you guys gonna play with this thing or not?”

“Fine fine,” you said. “Eddie, let’s do this.”

He agreed, and you sat on the floor on either side of the coffee table. You opened the box, took out its contents, and each placed the index finger of your right hand gently on the planchette. You sat silent for a moment, not doing or saying anything, unsure of where to begin.

“Uhhhh,” Eddie said before dissolving into giggles.

“Ask it something!” Robin whispered, leaning forward in her excitement.

“Okay, uh…” you began, pausing to think. “Is there anybody here with us right now?”

It seemed like the entire room held its breath with anticipation.

“Is there anyone here in this house?” you repeated.

The silence ticked onward.

“Well this is thrilling,” Jonathan said with a snort.

“Give it a minute,” Steve said.

“Thought you didn’t believe in this stuff, Stevarino,” Eddie teased.

“I don’t, but–”

You thought you felt the planchette move ever so slightly.

“Wait!” you gasped. “Did you feel that?”

“No, wait. Maybe?” Eddie whispered.

You sat motionless for a beat, but nothing happened. You began to think that it was your imagination when…

….suddenly the front door banged open with a loud smash, and every single person in the room screamed like a banshee.

“Jesus, guys!” Nancy said as she struggled to hold several brown paper grocery bags. “A little help here?”

“Oh fuck, sorry babe,” Jonathan said, and the rest of you sheepishly got up to help, leaving the ouija board on the table. You bustled into the kitchen to put things away and pop open cans of beer, laughing about the silly jump scare you’d all just shared.

What none of you saw, however, was the planchette on the ouija board slide over to ‘hello.’

To Be Continued...

Sorry this one is short, but I needed to get it out. More is coming! As always, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of every fic writer!

PART TWO MASTERLIST

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson series #spooky story #stranger things fanfic #strangerprompts

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wehavealwayslivedinhillhouse · 2 years

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Inquiring minds need to know:

Would you eat Constance's rum cakes, or Mrs. Dudley's peach shortcake?

"Both" is an acceptable answer because I would absolutely scarf down each

#we have always lived in the castle #the haunting of hill house #constance blackwood #mrs. dudley #shirley jackson