
The narrator, a professional writer, marries Hypatia after years of steady, reliable literary work. In the euphoria of early married life, he writes a story titled "His Wife's Deceased Sister," which Hypatia praises extravagantly and which the editor and his staff (including the hard-to-please Gibson) receive with equal enthusiasm. The story becomes an enormous public success. Soon afterward, every subsequent manuscript the narrator submits is rejected — not for being bad, but for being inferior to "His Wife's Deceased Sister." Editor after editor tells him they cannot publish anything beneath the standard he has set, since readers keep demanding another story like it. His income dries up, and he and Hypatia grow desperate. Walking home, the narrator meets Barbel, an old literary acquaintance now living in squalid poverty. Barbel explains that he once wrote a single wildly successful piece, the "Conundrum of the Anvil," for a comic paper called the Grasshopper, and that its success ruined him in exactly the same way: nothing he wrote afterward satisfied the public, and he now survives grinding points onto pins. He keeps the framed page of the "Conundrum" on his wall as a warning while he works, and tells the story of how, moved by an organ-grinder's tune, he once ground a batch of pins to unusual perfection — then deliberately threw them away and reported them spoiled, to protect his livelihood. He sends the narrator home to reflect on the lesson. Shaken, the narrator tells Hypatia about Barbel, and they briefly discuss the possibility of both taking up pin-grinding themselves if things do not improve. Unwilling to abandon writing as a profession, the narrator instead visits his sympathetic editor and explains his predicament. The editor proposes a solution: the narrator's new work can be published under a pseudonym, "John Darmstadt," satisfying both the public's expectations tied to his real name and his need for income. The narrator agrees, and stories written under him are placed with several journals under the Darmstadt name, restoring the couple's comfortable circumstances. Time passes; a son is born to the couple. As with his wedding, the emotional exaltation of fatherhood inspires the narrator to write another story about six weeks after the birth. Reading it aloud to Hypatia by the fire, he sees her overcome with pride, and she declares it every bit as good as "His Wife's Deceased Sister." The instant she says this, both realize with horror what it means: the new story is dangerously, ruinously good, threatening to repeat the very trap that first destroyed their fortunes and that has since destroyed Barbel. Hypatia urges the narrator to be strong and firm against the danger. The next day he wraps the manuscript, seals it in a soldered tin box, and locks that box inside a heavy iron-bound ship's cash-box that once belonged to a seafaring relative. He tells Hypatia he will throw away the key that afternoon, and declares that no one — except her and, eventually, their son — will know the manuscript exists until after his death, when it may be published without further harm to his livelihood. The text ends here, with the box locked and the key not yet disposed of.
By Frank R. Stockton · First published 1897 · Genre: Comedy, Satire, Short Story · 6,078 words
It is now five years since an event occurred which so colored my life, / or rather so changed some of its original colors, that I have thought / it well to write an account of it, deeming that its lessons may be of / advantage to persons whose situations in life are similar to my own.
His Wife's Deceased Sister is listed on Textopian as a short story by Frank R. Stockton, dated 1897 CE.
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mystery · suspense · family · relationships · deception · grief · loss · inheritance · secrets · betrayal · love · marriage