June 27: possibly the spookiest date in literature
June 27, in Shirley Jackson鈥檚 1948 short story, 鈥淭he Lottery,鈥� is the date when residents of a seemingly quaint small town gather to participate in a ritual act of violence.
Shirley Jackson's short story 'The Lottery' was first published in The New Yorker in June, 1948.
Another June 27th arrives this weekend, evoking the spookiest date in the American literary imagination 鈥� scarier, even, than October 31.
That鈥檚 because June 27, in Shirley Jackson鈥檚 short story, 鈥淭he Lottery,鈥� is the date when residents of a seemingly quaint small town gather to participate in a ritual act of violence 鈥� a development only revealed in the story鈥檚 final passages. There鈥檚 not much risk of spoiling the surprise here, since 鈥淭he Lottery鈥� has been so widely anthologized that most readers have probably learned about its O. Henry ending.
But when 鈥淭he Lottery鈥� was first published in The New Yorker in 1948, it created a sensation, prompting more letters to the magazine than anything other work of fiction in The New Yorker鈥檚 history. Even today, although Jackson鈥檚 story has been reprinted far and wide, it continues to raise goosebumps. Part of its power comes in the way that Jackson introduces an appalling act of terror with such blithe calm. Here鈥檚 how she starts 鈥淭he Lottery鈥�:
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鈥檆lock; in some towns there were so many people that the lottery took two days and had to be started on June 26th ....鈥�
Much of The New Yorker鈥檚 mail about 鈥淭he Lottery鈥� eventually got sent to the post office in the little Vermont town where Jackson lived. A week after the story鈥檚 publication, Jackson had to switch her mailbox to the biggest kind to accommodate all the letters. Most of the letters were notes of complaint from readers who had been offended by the story鈥檚 dark turn. 鈥淚t had simply never occurred to me that these millions and millions of people might be so far from being uplifted that they would sit down and write me letters that I was scared to open; of the three-hundred-odd-letters I received that summer I can count only 13 that spoke kindly to me, and they were mostly from friends,鈥� Jackson recalled, her reference to 鈥渕illions鈥� of disgruntled readers a bit of an exaggeration.
Jackson died in 1965, but interest in her work remains strong. Later this summer, Random House will publish 鈥淟et Me Tell You,鈥� a collection of Jackson鈥檚 prose that includes lots of work not published before.
None of it, though, is likely to top 鈥淭he Lottery,鈥� first published on June 26, 1948. In the midst of summer, it managed to chill readers to the bone, and all these years later, it still does.
Danny Heitman, a columnist for The Advocate newspaper in Louisiana, is the author of 鈥淎 Summer of Birds: John James Audubon at Oakley House.鈥�