The Monkey's Paw

There’s something deeply unsettling about the idea of getting exactly what you wish for. That’s the eerie, lingering feeling that The Monkey’s Paw by W.W. Jacobs leaves behind. It’s a short story—just a few pages long—but it manages to tap into our most basic fears: fate, loss, and the price of tampering with what we don’t fully understand. The setting is quiet, ordinary even, but that’s part of what makes the story so powerful. It takes place in a modest home out in the English countryside, where a family of three—Mr. and Mrs. White and their adult son, Herbert—are spending a cold, windy evening indoors, sheltered from the storm outside. From the beginning, there’s this cozy, everyday feel to their life. Mr. White plays chess with Herbert, the fire crackles, and the mood is warm and familiar. But then a visitor arrives—Sergeant-Major Morris, an old family friend who’s been away serving in the British Army in distant lands. He’s got tales to tell, but one story in particular grabs everyone’s attention: a strange little object he’s brought back from India—a monkey’s paw, cursed and said to grant three wishes to whoever possesses it. Now, here’s where things start to shift. The paw, Morris explains, was enchanted by a fakir—a holy man—who wanted to show people that fate rules their lives and those who try to change it will suffer. The wishes are real, but they come with a terrible cost. Morris says he’s used the paw himself, and it brought him nothing but grief. He warns the Whites to stay away from it, even throws it into the fire, but Mr. White snatches it out, curious. Morris doesn’t stop him—maybe because he knows that no warning is ever quite enough. Once Morris leaves, the family half-jokingly discusses what they might wish for. It all feels harmless at first. Mr. White makes a modest wish—something small, practical. And when it seems to come true the next day in a shocking and tragic way, the mood in the house changes completely. The story takes a sharp turn, and the price of that wish becomes devastatingly clear. This is where Jacobs really draws you in. The pace quickens, and the emotional tone darkens. The family’s grief becomes a presence in the home, heavy and suffocating. The second wish is made in desperation, rooted in heartbreak, and the events that follow are even more disturbing. The house that once felt safe now feels haunted—not by ghosts, but by dread, by the consequences of asking for more than life is willing to give. Mr. and Mrs. White, especially, are at the emotional center of the story. Mr. White is cautious, skeptical, and increasingly afraid of the power he’s come into possession of. Mrs. White, driven by grief and longing, becomes more insistent. Their relationship is tested in a way that’s painful and deeply human. You see how love and loss can push people to believe in impossible things, and how fear can be stronger than reason when the stakes are too high. The monkey’s paw itself is a perfect symbol—small, grotesque, and packed with meaning. It represents temptation, the illusion of control, and the danger of meddling with forces we can’t fully grasp. It’s not just a cursed object—it’s a reminder that wishes are never free. There’s a cost for every shortcut, and sometimes the price is more than anyone is willing to pay. Themes of fate, consequence, and the unknowable nature of life run all through the story. One of the most chilling ideas it presents is that fate might already have a plan, and trying to bend that plan to your will can unleash something far worse than what you were trying to avoid. It’s about the difference between what we want and what we’re meant to have—and how hard that is to accept when something precious is lost. As the story races toward its climax, the tension becomes almost unbearable. Jacobs is a master of letting your imagination do most of the work. He doesn’t spell everything out. He lets the shadows grow, lets the suspense coil tighter, and makes you sit with the weight of every choice the characters have made. The final moments are quiet, but they’re deeply haunting. It’s not just what happens—it’s what doesn’t happen, what might have happened, what the characters can’t take back. And that’s the lasting effect of The Monkey’s Paw. It’s not about a monster in the traditional sense. The real terror comes from within—from grief, from guilt, from the desperate need to undo something that can’t be undone. It makes you think about the things you’ve wished for in your own life and what you might have risked if those wishes had come true. The story stays with you because it doesn’t just scare you—it unsettles you. It reminds you that some things are meant to remain out of reach, and that sometimes, the most dangerous thing in the world is getting exactly what you asked for.