When the supposedly deceased founder of the Westing Paper Products Corporation, the reclusive Sam Westing, he uses his will to call together 16 seemingly random strangers. He offers these people the chance to become potential heirs to his vast estate, matches them up in pairs, and urges them to compete for a $200 million prize, thus setting in motion a battle between individualism and teamwork. Westing’s challenge to his heirs—work together or lose everything—stands in stark contrast to his own union-busting techniques as a businessman. Yet it is clear that Westing longs to inspire a sense of camaraderie in his potential heirs. As Raskin shows her characters wrestling with the values of individualism versus solidarity, she argues that the sense of interconnectedness one learns through teamwork and camaraderie is among life’s most important lessons.
Although the individualistic, union-busting Westing learned the importance of teamwork, community, and solidarity too late, he hopes to impart to his heirs the importance of those things while they still have time to build a sense of community among themselves. Thus, the real purpose of the titular Westing game is, in spite of the competitive form the game takes, the cultivation of community and solidarity. Westing’s will doubles as a set of instructions as to how to play the Westing game—the game that will determine who is to be the sole heir to Westing’s vast estate. For years, Westing preyed upon his workers as they sought to unite, placing his company’s profits over the success of the individuals it employed. As such, he embeds in the will itself the directive to work together rather than struggle individually. Westing includes this cryptic reminder in his will: “It is not what you have, it’s what you don’t have that counts.” Westing is referring to the fact that the clues, when compiled, create a puzzle that can easily be solved (while on their own, each individual set of clues is meaningless). However, this statement also takes on a deeper meaning: Westing suggests that it is only by using their collective life experiences and wisdom, and recognizing that a balance of different strengths is more important that any one strength or weakness, that the group can solve the game. Westing wants his heirs to rely on the power of solidarity rather than individual achievement—however, he recognizes that it will take a while for the heirs to catch on, cast aside their pride, and work together. Westing even refers to them as his “nieces and nephews” in his will in order to inspire a sense of family and camaraderie among them. While many characters ignore this tip-off, by the end of the book, the heirs are united by their shared experience of playing the Westing game and do indeed become a kind of family, complete with periodic reunions.
Over the course of the game, its players go from seeing one another as enemies to appreciating one another as they learn that the only way to succeed in the game—and, more largely, in life itself—is to embrace openness, vulnerability, and solidarity. At the start of the novel, many of the characters are isolated, self-serving, or otherwise cut off from their community. For instance, Grace Wexler is a social climber concerned only with her own advancement—and she uses her beautiful daughter, Angela, as a pawn in her games, further isolating Angela from her own desires. Turtle Wexler, Grace’s other daughter, kicks anyone who gets too close to her in the shins—she literally repels anyone who tugs on her beloved braid in an attempt to tease her, express affection toward her, or establish familiarity with her through physicality. Madame Hoo, the young immigrant wife of restaurateur James Shin Hoo, has just arrived from Hong Kong and cannot speak English—she resorts to stealing her neighbors’ possessions in order to feel close to them, unable to find anyone who will put in the time and effort to help her learn to communicate. Chris Theodorakis, battling a neurological disorder, retains his brilliant mind yet finds himself unable to verbally or physically express himself as his body breaks down. Raskin uses these characters’ stories of isolation to highlight how badly they all need the Westing game—whether they realize it or not. As the game forces 16 characters together in unusual pairings, they find themselves forced to open up to at least one other person. Breaking through their loneliness and working together is a core tenet of the game—and slowly, the characters realize that even working together in devoted pairs is not enough. It is only when the characters finally pool their clues that they discover the answer—and realize that although their clues point to the name of Westing’s supposed “murderer,” they are unwilling to turn in one of their own for a chance at money. When they refuse to turn Crow in, they forfeit the $200 million—but they’re rewarded when Westing gifts them equal shares of Sunset Towers, a physical manifestation of the community they have built. The Westing game works after all: Westing teaches a group of 16 lonely people to see the importance in teamwork, solidarity, and advocating for the health, success, and happiness of people other than themselves. By the end of the novel, Madame Hoo is learning English from Jake Wexler, Grace’s husband; Chris Theodorakis has gained access to an experimental treatment from Angela’s self-absorbed fiancé, Denton Deere; and Turtle has found a mother figure in her partner, Flora Baumbach. The Westing game allows these characters to feel less alone and to understand the power of working together as a unit.
By having a character who failed to learn the lessons of solidarity and collectivism try to impart those lessons to a group of people in need of camaraderie, Raskin highlights how profound the benefits of community can be. For years after the game ends, its players continue to lean on and learn from one another. Raskin’s faith in the power of solidarity to change an entire community shines through in The Westing Game.
Solidarity vs. Individualism ThemeTracker
Solidarity vs. Individualism Quotes in The Westing Game
Who were these people, these specially selected tenants? They were mothers and fathers and children. A dressmaker, a secretary, an inventor, a doctor, a judge. And, oh yes, one was a bookie, one was a burglar, one was a bomber, and one was a mistake.
Jake turned to Madame Hoo. "Hi there, partner."
"She doesn't speak English, Dad," Angela said flatly.
'And she never will, Angela, if no one talks to her."
At least the never-there-when-you-need-him doorman had propped open the front door. Not that he ever helped her, or noticed her, for that matter. No one ever noticed. Sydelle Pulaski limped through the lobby. She could be carrying a high-powered rifle in that package and no one would notice.
"Itsss-oo-nn," Chris announced.
"What did he say?"
"He said it's snowing," Theo and Flora Baumbach explained at the same time.
The heirs watched helplessly as the invalid's thin frame was suddenly torn and twisted by convulsions. Only the dressmaker rushed to his side. "I know, I know," she simpered, "you were trying to tell us about the itsy-bitsy snowflings."
Theo moved her away. "My brother is not an infant, and he's not retarded, so please, no more baby talk."
Blinking away tears, Flora Baumbach returned to her seat, the elfin smile still painted on her pained face.
Some stared at the afflicted child with morbid fascination, but most turned away. They didn't want to see.
Today I have gathered together my nearest and dearest, my sixteen nieces and nephews…
It is not what you have, it's what you don't have that counts.
The game: a tricky, divisive Westing game. No matter how much fear and suspicion he instilled in the players, Sam Westing knew that greed would keep them playing the game.
"Now then, if no two sets of clues are alike, as the will says, that could mean that each set of clues is only part of one message. The more clues we put together, the better chance we have of finding the murderer and winning the game. Of course, the inheritance will be divided into equal shares."
America! America!
May God thy gold refine
Till all success be nobleness
And every gain divine.
Theo had begun reading the refrain and ended up singing. He shyly laughed off his foolishness. "I guess it doesn't have anything to do with money or the will, just Uncle Sam's patriotism popping up again."
The coffee shop was full of diners.
Shin Hoo's restaurant had reopened. too, but no one came.
Angela was still seated on the cushion in the middle of the floor. Fragments of the scorched box lay in her burned hands. Blood oozed from an angry gash on her cheek and trickled down her beautiful face.
"I grew up in Westingtown where my father was a factory foreman. Violet Westing and I were, what you'd call, childhood sweethearts. We planned to get married someday, when I could afford it, but her mother broke us up. She wanted Violet to marry somebody important.”
“Violet was a few years younger than I, doll-like and delicate. She was not allowed to play with other children. Especially the skinny, long-legged, black daughter of the servants."
"Gee, you must have been lonely, Judge, having nobody to play with."
"I played with Sam Westing—chess. Hour after hour I sat staring down at that chessboard. He lectured me, he insulted me, and he won every game."
"I think Mr. Westing is a g-good man," Chris said aloud. “I think his last wish was to do g-good deeds. He g-gave me a p-partner who helped me. He g-gave everybody the p-perfect p-partner to m-make friends."
"Can we accuse an innocent woman of a murder that has never been proved? Crow is our neighbor and our helper. Can we condemn her to a life imprisonment just to satisfy our own greed? For money promised in an improbable and illegal will? If so, we are guilty of a far greater crime than the accused. Berthe Erica Crow's only crime is that her name appears in a song. Our crime would be selling—yes, I said selling, selling for profit the life of an innocent, helpless human being.”
The great winter fireworks extravaganza, as it came to be called, lasted only fifteen minutes. Twenty minutes later the Westing house had burned to the ground.
Julian R. Eastman was dead; and with him died Windy Windkloppel, Samuel W. Westing, Barney Northrup, and Sandy McSouthers. And with him died a little of Turtle.
Veiled in black, she hurried from the funeral services. It was Saturday and she had an important engagement. Angela brought her daughter, Alice, to the Wexler-Theodorakis mansion to spend Saturday afternoons with her aunt.
There she was, waiting for her in the library. Baba had tied red ribbons in the one long pigtail down her back.
"Hi there, Alice," T. R. Wexler said. "Ready for a game of chess?"