{"id":12,"date":"2007-07-18T21:55:23","date_gmt":"2007-07-19T01:55:23","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sonderbooks.com\/blog\/2007\/07\/18\/review-of-raising-demons-by-shirley-jackson\/"},"modified":"2007-07-18T21:56:31","modified_gmt":"2007-07-19T01:56:31","slug":"review-of-raising-demons-by-shirley-jackson","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sonderbooks.com\/blog\/?p=12","title":{"rendered":"Review of Raising Demons, by Shirley Jackson"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
Raising Demons<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

by Shirley Jackson<\/div>\n


\nReviewed July 16, 2007.
\nAcademy Chicago Publishers, Chicago, 1985. Originally written in 1956. 310 pages.
\nStarred Review.<\/div>\n

Few true stories are as hilarious as those told by Shirley Jackson about bringing up her four children. This book continues the fun begun in Life Among the Savages.<\/em><\/a> I guarantee that any parent or anyone who knows some kids will get some good laughs and hearty chuckles out of this book.<\/p>\n

Part of her brilliance is how she reproduces the voices of her children, each one distinct. Sally is probably the most entertaining, with her habit of repeating words and the outrageous stories she tells, like telling the milkman, \u201cMommy has gone away to Fornicalia. Where my grandma lives, grandma. Would you please like some breakfast?\u201d<\/p>\n

I love the following scene, which beautifully conveys a mother\u2019s feelings of irritation and desperation when a neighbor girl, Amy, comes over:<\/p>\n

If Sally\u2019s refrain conversation is difficult to bear, Amy\u2019s repetitive conversation is worse; where Sally repeats the vital word, Amy repeats the whole sentence; Sally is the only one in our family who can talk to Amy at all. \u201cMay I please play with Sally?\u201d Amy was saying through the back door screen, \u201cis Sally here so she can play with me?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

Sally slid off her chair and made for the cookie jar. \u201cAmy,\u201d she shouted, \u201cDaddy is going to take us swimming, swimming, and ask your mommy if you can come, your mommy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy mommy,\u201d said Amy solemnly, opening the screen door and joining Sally at the cookie jar, \u201cdoesn\u2019t let me go swimming right now, because I have a cold. I have a cold, so my mommy doesn\u2019t want me to go swimming, because I have a cold. I have a cold,\u201d she told me, \u201cso my mommy won\u2019t let me go swimming.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause she has a cold,\u201d Laurie said helpfully. \u201cSee, she has a cold and so\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLaurie,\u201d I said feverishly. \u201cSally and Amy, please take those cookies outdoors.<\/em>\u201d<\/div>\n

Their little \u201cBeekman\u201d is another great character. Here\u2019s how he got his name:<\/p>\n

Nothing is stable in this world. As soon as Barry was old enough to be regarded as a recognizable human being, with ideas and opinions, it became necessary for the other children to change him around. Since he was now too big to fit into a doll carriage, Jannie amused herself by dressing him in costume jewelry and ribbons. Sally sat on the floor next to the playpen and sang to him because, she said, it made him dance. Barry was clearly too formal a name, and we took to calling him B. B was too short, however, and he became Mr. B, then Mr. Beetle, and finally Mr. Beekman. he stayed Mr. Beekman until he was almost ready for nursery school, and then came around full circle, moving back to Mr. B, then B, and, at last, to Barry again. At one point he developed a disconcerting habit of answering no matter who<\/em> was being called. Thus, dancing, and decked in ribbons, Beekman walked instead of creeping, and learned to drink from a cup.<\/div>\n

Shirley Jackson has a beautiful ability to find the ludicrous in everyday family life. When they got a new car,<\/p>\n

I went out and bought a new car-chair for Beekman, one that had a small steering wheel and gear-shift lever attached; when I put Beekman into his new car-chair he turned the steering wheel and said “Beep beep?” experimentally, and we all laughedd and told him he was a brave smart boy. by the end of a week I was no longer fumbling wildly for the brake pedal on the new car, and Beekman was manipulating his steering wheel and gearshift with such wild abandon and skillful maneuvering as to earn himself the title of Mad-Dog Beekman; I could not, at any time of the day or night, attempt to sneak the car out of the driveway without attracting Beekman\u2019s attention, and he would hurl himself wildly at the doors and windows, calling out to wait a minute, he would be right there, and subsiding at last into hysterical terrors at my trying to drive without him.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n

For my part, I found it extremely difficult to drive with dual controls, trying to ease around a tight corner with Beekman beside me shifting rapidly from high to reverse to second, swinging his wheel around sharply and yelling \u201cBeep beep.\u201d I used to try letting the car roll backward out of the driveway without starting the motor, but Beekman\u2019s room was in the front and as soon as I got as far as the gateposts he would apparently catch some reflection of light and I would see his small infuriated face pressed against the window and hear the crash as Dikidiki hit the wall, and after a minute my husband or Laurie or Jannie or Sally would open the front door and call that I was to wait, they were just putting on Beekman\u2019s jacket.<\/p>\n

Usually, whenever Beekman drove, Sally wanted to come too. And whenever Sally came, Jannie thought she had better come along. And when Beekman and Sally and Jannie came, Laurie figured that we might just stop in at a movie or some such, and if we did he wanted to be along. As a result, whenever I went shopping in the new car, everyone came except my husband, who could not, for a long time, look at the new car without telling me how we were going bankrupt in style. One Saturday morning I almost got off without Beekman, who was learning from Sally how to cut out paper dolls, but before I was out of the driveway they were calling to me to wait a minute, and by the time I finally turned the car and headed off toward the big supermarkets I had all four of them with me, Sally accompanied by her dolls Susan and David and Patpuss, all dressed entirely in cleansing tissue, and carrying\u2014although I did not know it when she got into the car\u2014a pocketbook containing four pennies and a shilling stolen from her father\u2019s coin collection.<\/p>\n

I suppose I should have known that all was not going to go well when I found a parking space on main Street on Saturday at noon, with seventeen minutes paid for on the parking meter. Finding a parking space at all was so exceptional an occurrence that I wisely determined to disregard the fact that the car on my left\u2014an out-of-state car, by the way, from some state where land is not so jealously parceled out as here in Vermont\u2014was straddling the line. I eased my car in with only the faintest grazing sound, although it was immediately plain that if we were going to get out of the car at all, we were going to have to do it by sliding out the doors on the right-hand side.<\/p>\n

\u201cJeepers,\u201d Laurie remarked, gazing from his window at the car next to us, \u201ccut it a little close, didn\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was Beekman,\u201d I said nervously. \u201cHe kept pulling to the left.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJeepers,\u201d Laurie said to Beekman, \u201cyou want to watch where you\u2019re going, kid.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDewey, dewey,\u201d said Beekman, this being a combination word he used for a series of connected ideas, roughly translatable as: Observe my latest achievement, far surpassing all my previous works in this line, a great and personal triumph representing perhaps the most intelligent progress ever accomplished by a child of my years. \u201cDewey,\u201d said Beekman pleasurably.<\/p><\/div>\n

Later, when Barry was a bit older and Sally had learned to read,<\/p>\n

With three reading children in the house, competition over Barry, who could be read to, was very heavy. I still retained my post as bedtime reader\u2014I began again with The Wizard of Oz<\/em>\u2014but Laurie and Jannie and Sally found themselves sometimes all reading aloud from different enticing works, each hoping to lure Barry who moved, basking, from one to another. For a little while, Jannie forged ahead through a brilliant imaginative stroke; she refused to read aloud, and offered, instead, to tell stories made up out of her own head. This began the Jefry stories, which were about a little boy named Jefry who had an elephant who was called Peanuts becaue he ate so many . . . \u201cWhat?\u201d said Barry. \u201cCabbages,\u201d said Jannie firmly. Jefry had a bear named Dikidiki, just like Barry, and Jefry irked Sally so considerably that she brought out her boy doll Patpuss, renamed him Jefry, announced that he was her little brother, and commenced telling him stories about a little imaginary boy named Barry, who had a bear named Dikidiki just like Jefry. This became the competing Barry series. One evening Laurie came staggering in from the Story Hour in the kitchen, and announced to his father that he had just made up a story about a little boy named Dikidiki who had two imaginary bears, Barry and Jefry, and we had to make a rule that stories must be told one at a time, and last no more than two minutes by the kitchen clock.<\/div>\n

I like to read this book when I need to lighten up and laugh. Even though it was written when you could put a penny in a parking meter, life with kids is still pretty much the same. But Shirley Jackson makes you laugh about it, which is a lot more fun than screaming in frustration.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Raising Demons by Shirley Jackson Reviewed July 16, 2007. Academy Chicago Publishers, Chicago, 1985. Originally written in 1956. 310 pages. Starred Review. Few true stories are as hilarious as those told by Shirley Jackson about bringing up her four children. This book continues the fun begun in Life Among the Savages. I guarantee that any […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[17,2,16,3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-humorous","category-nonfiction-review","category-old-favorites","category-true-stories"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sonderbooks.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sonderbooks.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sonderbooks.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sonderbooks.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sonderbooks.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=12"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/sonderbooks.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sonderbooks.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=12"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sonderbooks.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=12"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sonderbooks.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=12"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}