I am no stranger to an awkward family dinner plated with false platitudes and uncomfortable emotional suppression. Who isn’t? Shirley Jackson harnesses this nugget of familial dissonance and psychological isolation to spin a bizarre tale that will leave you wondering which way’s up until the final page.

[b:We Have Always Lived in the Castle|9665288|We Have Always Lived in the Castle|Shirley Jackson|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1289273534l/9665288._SX50_.jpg|847007] centers on the lives of the Blackwoods, a wealthy family that live in a big house separate from the rest of the village. The narrative follows the rhythm and flow of their peculiar lives in a way that unravels like a dream. Specifically, new (horrific) details of the family’s past are revealed so matter-of-factly, that the only way to make sense of it is through the lens of dream logic—where the rules only make sense in the context of the experience. If you were to try to describe it when awake, it would probably sound like a muddled mess. That is what reading this book felt like, and to be honest I did not hate it one bit.

The Blackwoods are a family with quirks, as well as tragedy, with each one experiencing emotional isolation in some significant form. This loneliness is in some ways a making of their own design, and in others reinforced when hypothetical fear becomes bloody reality. Fear is not rational, and neither are the responses of individuals independently managing major psychosis. These are not logical characters, so do not expect a logical narrative.

All in all, this was my first Shirley Jackson, and it will definitely not be my last. It’s not every day that the devastating can be rendered genuinely entertaining, and Jackson executes this feat effortlessly.