We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson

We Have Always Lived in the Castle ends up being, at its core, an archetype of the “unreliable narrator” style, and probably an excellent portrayal of agoraphobia by the end.
The language is very characteristic of Shirley Jackson’s style. The prose reads beautifully, it is fluid, and at times it feels like a lullaby.
As for the story, it is definitely interesting in many ways, but it also ends up lacking truly thrilling moments throughout. Sometimes it can feel a bit bland. Only in a few key scenes does it become genuinely exciting, and there are not enough of those moments to make it a truly thrilling story in my opinion. There are some revealing moments that are genuinely strong, even if they can be predictable, but they keep the story engaging and I only wish they lasted longer.
The characters feel slightly underdeveloped in my view. I can empathize with Constance, but sometimes she comes across as a bit foolish. As for Merricat, her motivations are not entirely clear in the larger picture, and the story does not push hard enough in that direction. Because of that, it is difficult to say I truly liked any character, although Uncle Julian was the one I felt most sorry for.
A solid 3-star book for me.