Tuesday, February 2, 2010

The Lottery

The Lottery
In this story there is symbolism in nearly every element of the setting. The black box that runs the lottery is both a symbol for heavy tradition and impending harm. The box itself is one of the only physical remnants of the traditional lottery and even the box itself had predecessor. This is due to the fact that it is the central vessel of picking the “winner.” It is worn with age and is well older than the eldest of the participant villagers. “The original paraphernalia for the lottery had been lost long ago, and the black box now resting on the stool had been put into use even before Old Man Warner, the old man in town, was born…The black box grew shabbier each year; by now it was no longer completely black, but splintered badly along one side to show the original color, and in some places faded or stained.”(Jackson 444) This weathered box is mentioned to have been made from the last box. While it never says how long the tradition has been occurring we know that it is many ages. The appearance also sets off a tone. It is black and weathered almost like a foreboding omen that something awful was going to happen when the papers are drawn. The color black is also very ominous and stands for harm, pain, isolation, and even death. The symbolism is even found in their clothing and conversation.
The clothes are symbolic of a church gathering, almost a religious ritual. Also, the clothes symbolize simplicity and ignorance. The townspeople are together and have seemingly nice, but weathered, clothes on and carry on talking. “The women, wearing faded house dresses and sweaters…greeted one another and exchanged bits of gossip as they went to join their husbands.”(443) These clothes represent the age and even circumstances that these people live in. In an important, once a year ritual, these people aren’t wearing exorbitant clothing. It is simple common people garb. They are farmers and expect a promising harvest from the traditional stoning of the person drawn. Their conversations are like a nervous gathering of chickens - clucking back and forth in apprehension of foreshadowed slaughter to come.

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