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“The Way Up to Heaven” by Roald Dahl was initially published in 1954 in an issue of The New Yorker magazine and later included in his 1960 short story compilation book Kiss Kiss. The story was also adapted for TV in 1957 and 1979. Dahl is well known for his children’s novels, such as Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The Witches, and The Big Friendly Giant, many of which appeal with elements that are unusually dark, weird, and creepy for children’s books. Less well known are Dahl's short stories for adults, which also channel these elements into adult themes, often with disturbing effect. These stories are ambiguous and resist simple explication: They often leave the reader to digest haunting implications long after reading. Many of these stories for adults portray interactions and scenarios exploring the effects of manipulation and psychological trauma on human behavior. “The Way Up to Heaven” is such a story, prompting consideration of The Limits of Tolerance for Abuse, The Ethics of Choosing Not to Act or omitting to intervene in certain situations, and The Negative Effects of Societal Expectations during the time of writing.
This guide refers to the 1978 Penguin Edition of Kiss Kiss. Citations are to page numbers in this edition.
Content Warning: The source material and this guide contain descriptions and references to abuse and coercive control, accident, and death.
“The Way Up to Heaven” is written in the third person. The plot is conveyed from the perspective of a dispassionate but opinionated narrator, with a focus on the thoughts, feelings, and motivations of the protagonist, Mrs. Foster. The story follows Mrs. Foster and the antagonist, her husband, Mr. Foster, over the course of a few weeks. Mr. Foster is 70 years old, and Mrs. Foster is “elderly,” perhaps a few years younger. The story includes the brief appearances of servants, but the narrative focuses on the couple and how their relationship dynamic plays out during a time of stress and conflict.
The story opens with discussion of Mrs. Foster’s lifelong anxiety about being late and missing a mode of transportation such as a train. The narrator stresses that she is not nervous in general, but when she is triggered in this specific area, she quickly escalates to the point where her eye twitches and does not stop until well after she is safely underway and sure that she will not miss anything. As the time to leave approaches, Mrs. Foster nervously paces around the house waiting for Mr. Foster, who consistently waits in private until they are a couple of minutes late before calmly declaring that it is time to go, as if she has detained them.
The narrator suggests that Mr. Foster keeps Mrs. Foster on purpose to inflict “torture.” The narrator also stresses that Mr. Foster knows that his wife will never urge him to hurry because he has “disciplined her too well for that” (48). Additionally, Mrs. Foster is portrayed as a dutiful, obedient, and loving partner, with only the small “foible” of her anxiety around lateness. Despite this, she is lonely in their big home in New York, with few visitors and their daughter and three grandchildren living in Paris. She has never met her grandchildren and lives for the letters and photos she receives from Paris. She sometimes wishes that she could live in Paris, but her husband would never agree to leave New York. Mrs. Foster “knows” it is “wrong” for her to have these thoughts “while her husband is alive” (48).
Mrs. Foster is sitting in the hall, waiting to leave for a long-planned six-week visit to her daughter and grandchildren. It is a “miracle” that Mr. Foster has allowed her to plan this trip. Mr. Foster has insisted on escorting Mrs. Foster to the airport, and as usual, he is delaying her from starting her journey. Her distress is made clear through her repetitive questions to the butler, Walker, about the time, status of the car, and luggage, and whether her husband has appeared yet. Mrs. Foster worries that if she misses her flight, Mr. Foster will cancel her trip altogether.
Finally, Mr. Foster appears and, while Mrs. Foster’s eye continues to twitch with stress over this ordeal, she thinks her husband is absurdly like a squirrel. After Mr. Foster delays a little longer by washing his hands, he leisurely makes his way down to their hired car. During the ride, they make minimal conversation, establishing that she will write him letters, but it is unlikely that he will write back. Mr. Foster is going to close up the house, give the servants vacation, and stay at his club while his wife is away. Mr. Foster repeatedly brings up that she is likely to miss her flight due to their slow drive in the foggy weather, while watching intently for her physical discomfort as her eye continues to twitch. They eventually arrive at the airport, find out that the flight is postponed due to the fog, and say their goodbyes with Mrs. Foster left to wait.
Mrs. Foster spends the rest of the day at the airport, waiting hours to finally hear that the fog has not cleared in time, and her flight will leave at 11 o’clock the next morning. She worries that returning home to rest will allow her husband to sabotage her trip but is too exhausted to spend the night at the airport, so she calls her husband. He is about to leave for his club, and the servants have left already. Mr. Foster insists that she must come home and that he will stay at home too. He speaks rudely, calling her “stupid.” When she gets eventually home, it is late, and she wants to go straight to bed.
Mr. Foster lets her know that he has hired a car for nine o’clock in the morning to take her to the airport but insists that they must first drop him at his club on the way. They both know that the club is a very long way out of the way. Mrs. Foster feels intensely anxious about this, enough to point it out to Mr. Foster, but he insists. In the morning, there is a scene that recalls the previous day, with Mrs. Foster extremely concerned about missing her flight and Mr. Foster calmly and deliberately finding reasons to prolong the wait. Mrs. Foster thinks that her husband looks like a goat. They finally make it into the car at 9:15 am. To Mrs. Foster’s anguish, Mr. Foster insists that he must go back into the house to find a misplaced present for one of the grandchildren. When she tries to persuade him to reconsider, he loses his temper.
Mr. Foster goes inside, and Mrs. Foster waits. The driver tells her it is 9:30—just enough time to catch the plane. Something catches her eye down the side of the seat where her husband had been. It is the missing present, which looks like it was hidden. Mrs. Foster asks the chauffeur to fetch Mr. Foster. He tries the door, but it is locked. Mrs. Foster has her key and goes to the door, but when she puts her key into the door, she takes an unusually long pause, waiting and listening to sounds from behind the door. Neither the sounds nor her thoughts are described. Mrs. Foster returns to the car. The driver notices that her face is drained of color and looks different. She insists to the chauffeur in an uncharacteristically hard and authoritative manner that they must leave immediately; Mr. Foster must find another way to the clubhouse.
Mrs. Foster catches her flight to Paris and spends a wonderful six weeks doting on and bonding with her grandchildren. Every week, she writes her husband a letter to let him know how she’s doing and remind him to eat. When the time comes for her to fly back home, everyone else is sad, but her behavior hints that she may be back for another visit soon. She arrives back in New York calm and collected. There is no hired car to pick her up at the airport, so she gets herself a taxi and makes her way back home. She rings the bell and, when no one answers, she lets herself in. When she comes inside, she notices a large pile of mail on the floor, an uncomfortable feeling in the air, and an unusual smell. She walks out of the narrator’s view as if to check something, and then back with a “little glimmer of satisfaction” (59). Finally, she walks into her husband’s study and calls for someone to look at the house elevator, which she says seems to be stuck between the second and third floors. She hangs up and sits at her husband’s desk, waiting patiently for the lift mechanic to arrive.
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By Roald Dahl