Department of English
Faculty of Arts, Chulalongkorn University
2202234
Introduction to the Study of English Literature
Puckpan Tipayamontri
Office: BRK 1106.1
Office Hours: M 1–3 and by appointment
Phone: 0 2218 4703
Section 3
BRK 309
M 9:30–11:00, W 8:00–9:30
"The
Lottery" Passage Focus
How is “The Lottery” made? What creates its impact? The passage focus gives you a small section of the story to probe. Explain and analyze in as much detail as possible the material before you. Make the most out of what your selection gives you. Be prepared to speak about your passage to class on Monday, September 2. Here are some guides to keep in mind to help you unpack the text:
| 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 26th, 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. (24) |
| 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. (24) |
| 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. (24) |
| 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. (24) |
| 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. (25) |
| 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. (25) |
| The rest of the year, the box was put away, 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. (25) |
| 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. (26) |
| 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 the 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. (26) |
| “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 yet,” Mrs. Dunbar said regretfully. “Guess I gotta fill in for the old man this year.” (26) |
| “I’m drawing for m’mother and me.” He blinked his eyes
nervously and ducked his head as several voices in the crowd
said things like “Good fellow, Jack,” and “Glad to see your
mother’s got a man to do it.” (27) |
| 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. (27) |
| “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. (27) |
| “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.” (27) |
| 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 live in caves, nobody work any more, live that
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.” (28) |
| “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. (28) |
| 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. (28) |
| “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.” (28–29) |
| 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.” (30) |
| “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. “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. (30) |
| Mrs. 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.” Mrs. 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 a few pebbles. (30) |
| 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. (30) |
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Last updated: August 31, 2019