The
Lottery--Shirley Jackson "The Lottery" (1948) by Shirley Jackson
The
morning of June 27th was clear and sunny, with the fresh warmth of a
full-summer day; the flowers were blossoming profusely and the grass was richly
green. The people of the village began to gather in the square, between the
post office and the bank, around ten o'clock; in some towns there were so many
people that the lottery took two days and had to be started on June 2th. but in
this village, where there were only about three hundred people, the whole
lottery took less than two hours, so it could begin at ten o'clock in the
morning and still be through in time to allow the villagers to get home for
noon dinner. The children assembled first, of course. School was recently over
for the summer, and the feeling of liberty sat uneasily on most of them; they
tended to gather together quietly for a
while before they broke into boisterous
play. and their talk was still of the classroom and the teacher, of books and
reprimands. Bobby Martin had already stuffed his pockets full of stones, and the
other boys soon followed his example, selecting the smoothest and roundest
stones; Bobby and Harry Jones and Dickie Delacroix-- the villagers pronounced
this name "Dellacroy"--eventually made a great pile of stones in one
corner of the square and guarded it against the raids of the other boys. The
girls stood aside, talking among themselves, looking over their shoulders at
rolled in the dust or clung to the hands of their older brothers or sisters.
Soon the men began to gather. surveying their own children, speaking of
planting and rain, tractors and taxes. They stood together, away from the pile
of stones in the corner, and their jokes were quiet and they smiled rather than
laughed. The women, wearing faded house dresses and sweaters, came shortly after
their menfolk. They greeted one another and exchanged bits of gossip as they
went to join their husbands. Soon the women, standing by their husbands, began
to call to their children, and the children came reluctantly, having to be
called four or five times. Bobby Martin ducked under his mother's grasping hand
and ran, laughing, back to the pile of stones. His father spoke up sharply, and
Bobby came quickly and took his place between his father and his oldest
brother. The lottery was conducted--as were the square dances, the teen club,
the Halloween program--by Mr. Summers. who had time and energy to devote to
civic activities. He was a round-faced, jovial man and he ran the coal
business, and people were sorry for him. because he had no children and his wife
was a scold. When he arrived in the square, carrying the black wooden box,
there was a murmur of conversation among the villagers, and he waved and
called. "Little late today, folks." The postmaster, Mr. Graves,
followed him, carrying a three- legged stool, and the stool was put in the
center of the square and Mr. Summers set the black box down on it. The
villagers kept their distance, leaving a space between themselves and the
stool. and when Mr. Summers said, "Some of you fellows want to give me a
hand?" there was a hesitation before two men. Mr. Martin and his oldest
son, Baxter. came forward to hold the box steady on the stool while Mr. Summers
stirred up the papers inside it. The original paraphernalia for the lottery had
been lost long ago, and the black box now resting on the stool had been put
into use even before Old Man Warner, the oldest man in town, was born. Mr.
Summers spoke frequently to the villagers about making a new box, but no one
liked to upset even as much tradition as was represented by the black box.
There was a story that the present box had been made with some pieces of the
box that had preceded it, the one that had been constructed when the first
people settled down to make a village here. Every year, after the lottery, Mr.
Summers began talking again about a new box, but every year the subject was
allowed to fade off without anything's being done.
file:///Users/carolynsigler/Desktop/lotry.html (1 of 8)1/23/2005 7:58:04 AM The
Lottery--Shirley Jackson The black box grew shabbier each year: by now it was
no longer completely black but splintered badly along one side to show the
original wood color, and in some places faded or stained. Mr. Martin and his
oldest son, Baxter, held the black box securely on the stool until Mr. Summers
had stirred the papers thoroughly with his hand. Because so much of the ritual
had been forgotten or discarded, Mr. Summers had been successful in having
slips of paper substituted for the chips of wood that had been used for
generations. Chips of wood, Mr. Summers had argued. had been all very well when
the village was tiny, but now that the population was more than three hundred
and likely to keep on growing, it was necessary to use something that would fit
more easily into he black box. The night before the lottery, Mr. Summers and
Mr. Graves made up the slips of paper and put them in the box, and it was then
taken to the safe of Mr. Summers' coal company and locked up until Mr. Summers
was ready to take it to the square next morning. The rest of the year, the box
was put way, sometimes one place, sometimes another; it had spent one year in
Mr. Graves's barn and another year underfoot in the post office. and sometimes
it was set on a shelf in the Martin grocery and left there. There was a great
deal of fussing to be done before Mr. Summers declared the lottery open. There
were the lists to make up--of heads of families. heads of households in each
family. members of each household in each family. There was the proper
swearing-in of Mr. Summers by the postmaster, as the official of the lottery;
at one time, some people remembered, there had been a recital of some sort,
performed by the official of the lottery, a perfunctory. tuneless chant that
had been rattled off duly each year; some people believed that the official of
the lottery used to stand just so when he said or sang it, others believed that
he was supposed to walk among the people, but years and years ago this p3rt of
the ritual had been allowed to lapse. There had been, also, a ritual salute,
which the official of the lottery had had to use in addressing each person who
came up to draw from the box, but this also had changed with time, until now it
was felt necessary only for the official to speak to each person approaching.
Mr. Summers was very good at all this; in his clean white shirt and blue jeans.
with one hand resting carelessly on the black box. he seemed very proper and
important as he talked interminably to Mr. Graves and the Martins. Just as Mr.
Summers finally left off talking and turned to the assembled villagers, Mrs.
Hutchinson came hurriedly along the path to the square, her sweater thrown over
her shoulders, and slid into place in the back of the crowd. "Clean forgot
what day it was," she said to Mrs. Delacroix, who stood next to her, and they
both laughed softly. "Thought my old man was out back stacking wood,"
Mrs. Hutchinson went on. "and then I looked out the window and the kids
was gone, and then I remembered it was the twentyseventh and came
a-running." She dried her hands on her apron, and Mrs. Delacroix said,
"You're in time, though. They're still talking away up there." Mrs.
Hutchinson craned her neck to see through the crowd and found her husband and
children standing near the front. She tapped Mrs. Delacroix on the arm as a
farewell and began to make her way through the crowd. The people separated
good-humoredly to let her through: two or three people said. in voices just
loud enough to be heard across the crowd, "Here comes your, Missus,
Hutchinson," and "Bill, she made it after all." Mrs. Hutchinson
reached her husband, and Mr. Summers, who had been waiting, said cheerfully.
"Thought we were going to have to get on without you, Tessie." Mrs.
Hutchinson said. grinning, "Wouldn't have me leave m'dishes in the sink,
now, would you. Joe?," and soft laughter ran through the crowd as the
people stirred back into position after Mrs. Hutchinson's arrival. "Well,
now." Mr. Summers said soberly, "guess we better get started, get
this over with, so's we can go back to work. Anybody ain't here?"
file:///Users/carolynsigler/Desktop/lotry.html (2 of 8)1/23/2005 7:58:04 AM The
Lottery--Shirley Jackson "Dunbar." several people said. "Dunbar.
Dunbar." Mr. Summers consulted his list. "Clyde Dunbar." he
said. "That's right. He's broke his leg, hasn't he? Who's drawing for
him?" "Me. I guess," a woman said. and Mr. Summers turned to
look at her. "Wife draws for her husband." Mr. Summers said.
"Don't you have a grown boy to do it for you, Janey?" Although Mr.
Summers and everyone else in the village knew the answer perfectly well, it was
the business of the official of the lottery to ask such questions formally. Mr.
Summers waited with an expression of polite interest while Mrs. Dunbar
answered. "Horace's not but sixteen vet." Mrs. Dunbar said
regretfully. "Guess I gotta fill in for the old man this year."
"Right." Sr. Summers said. He made a note on the list he was holding.
Then he asked, "Watson boy drawing this year?" A tall boy in the
crowd raised his hand. "Here," he said. "I'm drawing for my
mother and me." He blinked his eyes nervously and ducked his head as
several voices in the crowd said thin#s like "Good fellow, lack." and
"Glad to see your mother's got a man to do it." "Well," Mr.
Summers said, "guess that's everyone. Old Man Warner make it?"
"Here," a voice said. and Mr. Summers nodded. A sudden hush fell on
the crowd as Mr. Summers cleared his throat and looked at the list. "All
ready?" he called. "Now, I'll read the names--heads of families
first--and the men come up and take a paper out of the box. Keep the paper
folded in your hand without looking at it until everyone has had a turn.
Everything clear?" The people had done it so many times that they only
half listened to the directions: most of them were quiet. wetting their lips.
not looking around. Then Mr. Summers raised one hand high and said,
"Adams." A man disengaged himself from the crowd and came forward.
"Hi. Steve." Mr. Summers said. and Mr. Adams said. "Hi.
Joe." They grinned at one another humorlessly and nervously. Then Mr.
Adams reached into the black box and took out a folded paper. He held it firmly
by one corner as he turned and went hastily back to his place in the crowd.
where he stood a little apart from his family. not looking down at his hand.
"Allen." Mr. Summers said. "Anderson.... Bentham."
"Seems like there's no time at all between lotteries any more." Mrs.
Delacroix said to Mrs. Graves in the back row. "Seems like we got through
with the last one only last week." "Time sure goes fast.-- Mrs.
Graves said. file:///Users/carolynsigler/Desktop/lotry.html (3 of 8)1/23/2005
7:58:04 AM The Lottery--Shirley Jackson "Clark.... Delacroix"
"There goes my old man." Mrs. Delacroix said. She held her breath
while her husband went forward. "Dunbar," Mr. Summers said, and Mrs.
Dunbar went steadily to the box while one of the women said. "Go on.
Janey," and another said, "There she goes." "We're
next." Mrs. Graves said. She watched while Mr. Graves came around from the
side of the box, greeted Mr. Summers gravely and selected a slip of paper from
the box. By now, all through the crowd there were men holding the small folded
papers in their large hand. turning them over and over nervously Mrs. Dunbar
and her two sons stood together, Mrs. Dunbar holding the slip of paper.
"Harburt.... Hutchinson." "Get up there, Bill," Mrs.
Hutchinson said. and the people near her laughed. "Jones." "They
do say," Mr. Adams said to Old Man Warner, who stood next to him,
"that over in the north village they're talking of giving up the
lottery." Old Man Warner snorted. "Pack of crazy fools," he
said. "Listening to the young folks, nothing's good enough for them. Next
thing you know, they'll be wanting to go back to living in caves, nobody work
any more, live hat way for a while. Used to be a saying about 'Lottery in June,
corn be heavy soon.' First thing you know, we'd all be eating stewed chickweed
and acorns. There's always been a lottery," he added petulantly. "Bad
enough to see young Joe Summers up there joking with everybody."
"Some places have already quit lotteries." Mrs. Adams said.
"Nothing but trouble in that," Old Man Warner said stoutly.
"Pack of young fools." "Martin." And Bobby Martin watched
his father go forward. "Overdyke.... Percy." "I wish they'd
hurry," Mrs. Dunbar said to her older son. "I wish they'd
hurry." "They're almost through," her son said. "You get
ready to run tell Dad," Mrs. Dunbar said. Mr. Summers called his own name
and then stepped forward precisely and selected a slip from the box. Then he
called, "Warner." "Seventy-seventh year I been in the
lottery," Old Man Warner said as he went through the crowd.
"Seventy-seventh time."
file:///Users/carolynsigler/Desktop/lotry.html (4 of 8)1/23/2005 7:58:04 AM The
Lottery--Shirley Jackson "Watson" The tall boy came awkwardly through
the crowd. Someone said, "Don't be nervous, Jack," and Mr. Summers
said, "Take your time, son." "Zanini." After that, there
was a long pause, a breathless pause, until Mr. Summers. holding his slip of
paper in the air, said, "All right, fellows." For a minute, no one
moved, and then all the slips of paper were opened. Suddenly, all the women
began to speak at once, saving. "Who is it?," "Who's got
it?," "Is it the Dunbars?," "Is it the Watsons?" Then
the voices began to say, "It's Hutchinson. It's Bill," "Bill
Hutchinson's got it." "Go tell your father," Mrs. Dunbar said to
her older son. People began to look around to see the Hutchinsons. Bill
Hutchinson was standing quiet, staring down at the paper in his hand. Suddenly.
Tessie Hutchinson shouted to Mr. Summers. "You didn't give him time enough
to take any paper he wanted. I saw you. It wasn't fair!" "Be a good
sport, Tessie." Mrs. Delacroix called, and Mrs. Graves said, "All of
us took the same chance." "Shut up, Tessie," Bill Hutchinson
said. "Well, everyone," Mr. Summers said, "that was done pretty
fast, and now we've got to be hurrying a little more to get done in time."
He consulted his next list. "Bill," he said, "you draw for the
Hutchinson family. You got any other households in the Hutchinsons?"
"There's Don and Eva," Mrs. Hutchinson yelled. "Make them take
their chance!" "Daughters draw with their husbands' families,
Tessie," Mr. Summers said gently. "You know that as well as anyone
else." "It wasn't fair," Tessie said. "I guess not,
Joe." Bill Hutchinson said regretfully. "My daughter draws with her
husband's family; that's only fair. And I've got no other family except the
kids." "Then, as far as drawing for families is concerned, it's
you," Mr. Summers said in explanation, "and as far as drawing for
households is concerned, that's you, too. Right?" "Right," Bill
Hutchinson said. "How many kids, Bill?" Mr. Summers asked formally.
"Three," Bill Hutchinson said. "There's Bill, Jr., and Nancy,
and little Dave. And Tessie and me." file:///Users/carolynsigler/Desktop/lotry.html
(5 of 8)1/23/2005 7:58:04 AM The Lottery--Shirley Jackson "All right,
then," Mr. Summers said. "Harry, you got their tickets back?"
Mr. Graves nodded and held up the slips of paper. "Put them in the box,
then," Mr. Summers directed. "Take Bill's and put it in."
"I think we ought to start over," Mrs. Hutchinson said, as quietly as
she could. "I tell you it wasn't fair. You didn't give him time enough to
choose. Everybody saw that." Mr. Graves had selected the five slips and
put them in the box. and he dropped all the papers but those onto the ground.
where the breeze caught them and lifted them off. "Listen,
everybody," Mrs. Hutchinson was saying to the people around her.
"Ready, Bill?" Mr. Summers asked. and Bill Hutchinson, with one quick
glance around at his wife and children. nodded. "Remember," Mr.
Summers said. "take the slips and keep them folded until each person has
taken one. Harry, you help little Dave." Mr. Graves took the hand of the
little boy, who came willingly with him up to the box. "Take a paper out
of the box, Davy." Mr. Summers said. Davy put his hand into the box and
laughed. "Take just one paper." Mr. Summers said. "Harry, you
hold it for him." Mr. Graves took the child's hand and removed the folded
paper from the tight fist and held it while little Dave stood next to him and
looked up at him wonderingly. "Nancy next," Mr. Summers said. Nancy
was twelve, and her school friends breathed heavily as she went forward
switching her skirt, and took a slip daintily from the box "Bill,
Jr.," Mr. Summers said, and Billy, his face red and his feet overlarge,
near knocked the box over as he got a paper out. "Tessie," Mr.
Summers said. She hesitated for a minute, looking around defiantly. and then
set her lips and went up to the box. She snatched a paper out and held it
behind her. "Bill," Mr. Summers said, and Bill Hutchinson reached
into the box and felt around, bringing his hand out at last with the slip of
paper in it. The crowd was quiet. A girl whispered, "I hope it's not
Nancy," and the sound of the whisper reached the edges of the crowd.
"It's not the way it used to be." Old Man Warner said clearly.
"People ain't the way they used to be." "All right," Mr.
Summers said. "Open the papers. Harry, you open little Dave's." Mr.
Graves opened the slip of paper and there was a general sigh through the crowd
as he held it up and everyone could see that it was blank. Nancy and Bill. Jr..
opened theirs at the same time. and both beamed and laughed. turning around to
the crowd and holding their slips of paper above their heads.
"Tessie," Mr. Summers said. There was a pause, and then Mr. Summers
looked at Bill Hutchinson, and Bill unfolded his paper and showed it. It was
blank. file:///Users/carolynsigler/Desktop/lotry.html (6 of 8)1/23/2005 7:58:04
AM The Lottery--Shirley Jackson "It's Tessie," Mr. Summers said, and
his voice was hushed. "Show us her paper. Bill." Bill Hutchinson went
over to his wife and forced the slip of paper out of her hand. It had a black
spot on it, the black spot Mr. Summers had made the night before with the heavy
pencil in the coal company office. Bill Hutchinson held it up, and there was a
stir in the crowd. "All right, folks." Mr. Summers said. "Let's
finish quickly." Although the villagers had forgotten the ritual and lost
the original black box, they still remembered to use stones. The pile of stones
the boys had made earlier was ready; there were stones on the ground with the
blowing scraps of paper that had come out of the box Delacroix selected a stone
so large she had to pick it up with both hands and turned to Mrs. Dunbar.
"Come on," she said. "Hurry up." Mr. Dunbar had small
stones in both hands, and she said. gasping for breath. "I can't run at
all. You'll have to go ahead and I'll catch up with you." The children had
stones already. And someone gave little Davy Hutchinson few pebbles. Tessie
Hutchinson was in the center of a cleared space by now, and she held her hands
out desperately as the villagers moved in on her. "It isn't fair,"
she said. A stone hit her on the side of the head. Old Man Warner was saying,
"Come on, come on, everyone." Steve Adams was in the front of the
crowd of villagers, with Mrs. Graves beside him. "It isn't fair, it isn't
right," Mrs. Hutchinson screamed, and then they were upon her. •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Discussion Questions: 1. Were you surprised by the ending of the story? If not,
at what point did you know what was going to happen? How does Jackson start to
foreshadow the ending in paragraphs 2 and 3? Conversely, how does Jackson lull
us into thinking that this is just an ordinary story with an ordinary town? 2.
Where does the story take place? In what way does the setting affect the story?
Does it make you more or less likely to anticipate the ending? 3. In what ways are
the characters differentiated from one another? Looking back at the story, can
you see why Tessie Hutchinson is singled out as the "winner"? 4. What
are some examples of irony in this story? For example, why might the title,
"The Lottery," or the opening description in paragraph one, be
considered ironic? 5. Jackson gives interesting names to a number of her
characters. Explain the possible allusions, irony or symbolism of some of
these: ● Delacroix ● Graves ● Summers ● Bentham ● Hutchinson file:///Users/carolynsigler/Desktop/lotry.html
(7 of 8)1/23/2005 7:58:04 AM The Lottery--Shirley Jackson ● Warner ● Martin 7.
Take a close look at Jackson's description of the black wooden box (paragraph
5) and of the black spot on the fatal slip of paper (paragraph 72). What do
these objects suggest to you? Why is the black box described as
"battered"? Are there any other symbols in the story? 8. What do you
understand to be the writer's own attitude toward the lottery and the stoning?
Exactly what in the story makes her attitude clear to us? 9. This story
satirizes a number of social issues, including the reluctance of people to
reject outdated traditions, ideas, rules, laws, and practices. What kinds of
traditions, practices, laws, etc. might "The Lottery" represent? 10.
This story was published in 1948, just after World War II. What other cultural
or historical events, attitudes, institutions, or rituals might Jackson be
satirizing in this story? file:///Users/carolynsigler/Desktop/lotry.html (8 of
8)1/23/2005 7:58:04 AM
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