Teresa Diviachi
First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—
because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—
and there was no one left to speak for me.
– Pastor Martin Niemöller
Have you ever stepped out of a café with a cup of coffee, maybe a pastry, and sitting outside was someone holding a sign “Anything Helps.” Their gaze may have been low, fixated on a spot somewhere around your feet or perhaps they stare upwards, waiting to see if anyone will look in their eyes, even for a second. Maybe they are quietly murmuring to a scruffy pitbull curled up on a blanket beside them or maybe they are drawing on scraps of cardboard offering these works in exchange for whatever they can get. What do you do? Do you give them your coffee? Offer them your pastry? Maybe slip them a dollar or two? Or do your eyes slide past them as you stiffen your spine. You tell yourself what other choice do you have. You tell yourself that you cannot save everyone.
Ritualistic sacrifice has existed in human societies, in some form or another, for millennia. According to René Girard and like minded theorists, a person is chosen as a scapegoat, a single act of violence is enacted upon them which prevents greater violence from occurring amongst larger society, and order is maintained (Andrade). In Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery,” the scapegoat has come a long way from this ritualistic sacrifice as outlined by Girard. In Jackson’s story there is no attempt made to project a sense of guilt onto the scapegoat. Instead, a distorted pall of democratic justice is cast over the process; the villagers are led to believe that anyone could end up being “the one.” It is a false sense of impartiality, one that has become common in Western nations such as the U.S. wherein the myth of hard work and determination has become a farcical mask over the reality of innate privilege. In a mandatory lottery where death is the prize, no one can ever truly have a fair shot at the life they want.
According to Girard, human society is based on mimetic desires (Andrade). As a child, one learns what they should desire, from jobs to romantic partners, as well as the designated appointees for whom each category of desired objects is accessible by copying adults (Bailey 40). At the start of Jackson’s story, it is the children the reader meets first. School aged children, freshly freed from class for the summer, convey an air that is both pleasant but also wary. There is a sense of something being off in the description of the children’s behavior, they seem afraid to make a commotion. The boys begin to collect rocks in their pockets and the girls huddle close together (Jackson 291). The children move between the seriousness the reader will find in the adults throughout the rest of the story and the uninhibited enjoyment of holiday freedom that children of their age should be expressing. Instead of running about unrestrained “they tended to gather together quietly for a while before they broke into boisterous play” (Jackson 291). While this self-imposed limitation on their movements is introduced as a result of school only recently ending for summer break, the parallel with the adults’ behavior is clear. In the next paragraph, the men are described in the exact same manner; they have also gathered in the square but “their jokes were quiet, and they smiled rather than laughed” (Jackson 292).
These youngsters have begun to realize that their lives are not truly their own. In the few years they have been cognizant of the lottery they have already absorbed its intended results. Hovering over them now is the constant knowledge that with a slip of paper they could be stoned to death. Play, joy and laughter are privileges, not rights, reserved for certain people and certain spaces. Perhaps even more importantly, the children understand that they do not decide what happens to them; there are certain choices that are not, nor will ever be, their own. The children will become their parents, constantly fearful of what the future might bring. The mimetic desires of human behavior are instinctual lessons that run much deeper than casual imitation. It is these instincts that will come to govern the children. They will become adults who put rocks into their children’s hands and teach them that it is necessary to turn on their mother when society points a finger (Jackson 301).
If someone wakes up everyday knowing that there is a potential death sentence hovering over their head that grows closer with every tick of the clock hands, they can never truly live a life led by free will. They will always be afraid that they are next, always be afraid to step out of line and attract the wrong type of attention. They will never want to completely share themselves with someone for fear of losing that person. And perhaps worst of all, they will never be able to trust another person. One can never feel true empathy for another being when they know that someday that person will turn around and strike them down in the hopes of saving their own skin.
Girarad’s mimetic theory of life depends on the scapegoat being perceived as guilty, they must deserve death. I argue that in the case of “The Lottery,” it is not that the scapegoat must be guilty, it is that they must be perceived as deserving death. The human conscience must be able to justify the violence they perpetuate on the sacrificial victim. In the lottery, the perceived equality of pulling the black dot, that anyone could be chosen, and the ritualistic nature of it, a tradition that is followed regardless of science or cultural progress, justifies the murder of an innocent. There it is, biased equality and discriminatory religiosity, the foundational virtues of United States socio-political authority! I posit that the portrayal of equal opportunity is as skewed in the story as it is in our own lives.
Take a look at how the villagers organize themselves. The head of the household is always male, and a woman belongs to the family of her male guardian (either her father, eldest brother or husband) (Jackson 299). Even a boy barely over the age of 16 is considered to have dominion over his mother in the absence of the husband (Jackson 295-296). It is also the right of the man to pull the slip that determines his family’s fate. Only after the men have pulled, do the individual members of his family have the chance to take their fate into their own hands. This is not self-determinacy; this is follow the leader. What is more, an unelected pseudo-official with no ties to the government is in charge of the process.
The owner of the local coal company, Mr. Summers is the white, middle aged male who presides over the drawing. While he is assisted and sworn in by Mr. Graves, the postmaster, Mr. Summers is the one who holds onto the filled black box the night before the lottery. He maintains control over the box throughout the drawing and is the one to call out the names of the townsfolk, question absences, and recite instructions. No one questions his position not even the villager who is chosen to die[1]. His is an absolute authority and there is no evidence that he earned this role. The reader learns nothing about him being elected or proving himself as having superior leadership skills. On the two occasions the villagers’ genuine opinion of him is shared, they are pathetic and critical. As a whole, they feel sorry for him because he has no children and his wife is “a scold” (Jackson 292). More specifically, Old Man Warner is offended by Mr. Summers’ jovial manner in conducting the lottery (Jackson 297). Why is he the leader then? He owns the coal company, which means he has the time and money to devote to organizing village activities. Unlike the villagers—most of whom are probably employed by him and therefore depend on him for their livelihood—Mr. Summers does not have to work around the clock in order to support his family. With his privilege come the tools of leadership: time, energy and money that can be spent wooing the villagers. While there is no hard evidence that he has rigged the drawing[2], the description of his ownership of the box leaves that possibility open. And even if he is honest, it is clear that his role is sacred and he has a special authority over the lives of the villagers.
In order for the lottery to function, the villagers must believe it is a fair process: everyone pulls a slip blindly and anyone could be chosen to die. As we have just seen though, that is never really the case. I believe Jackson is trying to warn that the same applies in our own lives. We have learned to turn a blind eye to pain and suffering because we live in a world where trying to prevent this pain from spreading puts us at risk of becoming the next sacrifice. The more someone cares and pursues a life in which they offer hands-on empathy, the more likely it is that they will also suffer. The reason that person sitting outside of the café causes you to stiffen your spine, is that speaking up for them jeopardizes the always precarious circumstances that keep you safe. To put it rather bluntly, social workers and public school teachers do not make the same amount as bank executives and silicon valley techies. What is more, the safety net for the former is far smaller than the benefit packages for the latter. We have created a society in which putting one’s neck out there means taking a blow and continuing to take blow after blow for as long as one can stand to put themselves out there.
Finally, what about society’s scapegoats? What about those that are sacrificed so that others may rise? There can only be a 1 percent if there is a 99 percent left behind. Does anyone ever wish to be made into a sacrifice for the sake of maintaining the status quo? Was Tessie Hutchinson any more deserving of death than the other villagers or did she just have the bad luck of pulling the black dot? I think the answer is clear and can be seen in our own hierarchical, “democratic,” society wherein wealth equates to opportunity. Just like Tessie is made to seem fated for death, those that do not “succeed” are easily framed as deserving their own sorry fate. Homelessness is not a natural state, it is an enforced one. Fear of becoming so yourself, fear of risking what little you have, fear of being just the same, this has created the dichotomy of “us” and “them.” So what happens when it is your turn and you are “them?”
[1] Tessie Hutchinson challenges Mr. Summers actions, saying he “didn’t give him [Mr. Hutchinson] enough time to take any slip he wanted” (Jackson 298-299). She does not challenge Mr. Summers’ right to preside over the lottery.
[2] Some theorists have cited the difference in language that describes the villagers as “taking” (Jackson 296) a slip while Mr. Summers and Mr. Graves “select” (Jackson 297, 298) slips as evidence of their having a certain protected status in the process. While this is an interesting case of semantics, for the sake of this argument, I am reading these words according to their literal meanings.
Works Cited
Andrade, Gabriel. “René Girard (1923—2015).” Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, http://www.iep.utm.edu/girard/#H2.
Bailey, Ted. “Sacred Violence in Shirley Jackson’s ‘The Lottery’.” British and American Studies, vol. 20, 2014, pp. 37–42,203.
“Martin NiemöllerI: ‘First They Came For Socialists…”.” United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, 30 Mar. 2012, encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/martin-niemoeller-first-they-came-for-the-socialists.
Jackson, Shirley. The Lottery and Other Stories. 1st Farrar, Straus and Giroux, The Noonday Press: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1991.
Interpretations: Journal of the Graduate Literature Association 