Reflections on The Lottery by Shirley Jackson: A Haunting Tradition

When I came across The Lottery by Shirley Jackson on Goodreads, I was immediately intrigued. I’m not usually a fan of short stories; I prefer books that allow me to sink into their worlds over several days. There’s a particular joy in the long, drawn-out suspense of wondering what happens next. Even when I’m exhausted, my eyes closing, I fight to read just one more page before sleep. Those moments of falling asleep thinking about the plot, trying to piece together what might come next, are part of the experience I love.

But The Lottery felt different. It was short, concise, and self-contained. It didn’t require that same level of drawn-out anticipation, but it still left a lasting impression. I managed to listen to the audiobook during a simple walk to take my 4-year-old to school. In those 20 minutes, the entire story unfolded, and its sharp, unsettling power stayed with me long after.

Unpacking the Lottery’s Tradition

The lottery has been held for as long as the townspeople can remember—a ritual sacrifice to ensure a prosperous harvest. The saying goes, “Lottery in June, corn be heavy soon.” This belief, deeply rooted in the town’s history, goes unquestioned by its residents, even though none of them were alive when it began.

The story hints at resistance to the lottery in other places. Some towns have begun to abandon the tradition entirely, but this village dismisses such changes with disdain. For them, the lottery isn’t just a ritual; it’s an unshakable part of their identity. To question it would be to question their way of life.

The townspeople’s participation in the ritual is chilling. They are all complicit, each taking their turn to cast a stone. When someone picks up the largest stone, it doesn’t seem to be out of cruelty but rather an attempt to make the ordeal as quick and painless as possible. It’s as though they believe efficiency can somehow lessen the weight of their actions.

The children’s role is particularly unsettling. At the start, they collect stones like it’s a game, completely unaware of what they’re contributing to. Even during the second draw, when children within the chosen family pull their tickets, they don’t seem to grasp the full stakes. A child with a blank ticket might laugh, oblivious to the fact that their “win” means someone they love will lose.

This detachment may be their way of coping. How else could they process such horror when it’s been normalized for generations?

Tradition as a Justification

When the villagers discuss other towns abandoning the lottery, the response is dismissive. They ridicule those who would dare break from tradition, seeing them as weak or foolish. For this community, the lottery isn’t just a ritual—it’s a symbol of unity, a shared responsibility, and an act they believe secures their future.

This raises a larger question: why does tradition hold such power? Why do people cling to practices they know are cruel or unnecessary? Is it fear of change, fear of being ostracized, or simply the comfort of conformity?

Tessie’s Desperation

One of the most striking moments is when Tessie Hutchinson, the mother who ultimately draws the marked slip, tries to shift the odds. She insists her married daughter should be included in the second draw, despite knowing the daughter now belongs to her husband’s family.

Why would Tessie suggest this? Perhaps it’s a desperate attempt to improve her own chances of survival, or maybe she’s trying to protect her youngest children. Her older, married daughter is no longer part of her immediate household, and Tessie may feel more urgency to shield the children still under her care.

This moment highlights how fear and survival instincts can overshadow even the strongest familial bonds. Tessie’s actions are not malicious; they’re born out of the unbearable pressure of the situation.

Personal Reflections

Reading The Lottery forced me to reflect on my own values and actions. If I lived in that village, what would I do? Would I have the courage to stand up and say, “This is wrong”? Or would I succumb to the fear of isolation and go along with the crowd?

It also made me think about historical and biblical events. If I had lived in the time of Jesus, would I have stood with him, or would I have been part of the crowd shouting against him? It’s humbling and uncomfortable to confront these questions because they reveal how fragile our moral courage can be.

The truth is, none of us knows what we would do until we are placed in such a situation. And that uncertainty—that confrontation with our own humanity—is part of what makes The Lottery so haunting and unforgettable.

Final Thoughts

Even though The Lottery left me with more questions than answers, that’s what makes it brilliant. It doesn’t hand you a neat explanation or resolution. Instead, it forces you to think, speculate, and reflect on yourself and society.

In the end, The Lottery isn’t just about a brutal, senseless act—it’s about the subtle, often invisible ways society conditions us to accept the unacceptable. It’s a story that sticks with you long after you’ve read it, urging you to look inward and ask: What would I do in this situation? Would I follow the crowd, or would I dare to speak out?