The First Review Wholly about One Infuriating Book.
When someone tells you who they are, believe them.
And indeed, this book was NOT for me.
After about a decade of staring at this book on my bookshelf, waiting to be read, I finally sat down and read House Of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski. In point of fact, I sat down to read this book and decided it needed to be done in a weekend or else it was never getting done. And lo and behold I was right about that. Had I put this book down I never would have picked it back up again. The picture above is about 4 pages into House Of Leaves. Ooo. Edgy. Not for meee… Anyway.
So what the fuck is House of Leaves?
Well first, and objectively, it is about 2.5 narratives told using interesting and creative printing processes to emphasize feelings within the text. It’s experimental, it’s weird, and good God is it long.
The first narrative is about a spooky scary house. It doesn’t have ghosts or anything, just the house itself is a werewolf Bar mitzvah (that is to say; spooky scary). It is told through the lens of an academic paper being written about a documentary about this house. Neat. So many layers.
The second narrative is about a chaos goblin line cook (Johnny Truant) and his decent into madness.
The .5 narrative is about the Jonny’s mother’s decent into madness.
Had the book been published with these 2.5 parts being separate, I would have read the first narrative and enjoyed it and ignored the rest because man, I do not care about chaos goblin line cooks. I just don’t.
But Truly, this book is not for Me.
I think this book was written for teenagers, just learning about all the fun things you can do with writing. It’s an interesting compilation of writing styles and visual techniques. I genuinely think that that is cool and fun, and hey good job Danielewski. Also, the subject matter of objective reality, going insane, death, and impermanence are all written in ways that really speak to an adolescent just learning about the world. But as a full, grown-ass adult, I was mostly just rolling my eyes or thinking how cute it is that the author was trying to be dark and edgy and mlah. It’s too fucking long, man.
Part of what made this book exciting when it first came out was the aura around the book; that it was somehow underground, secret, only the cool kids knew about it. And then much like not talking about fight club, the super secret club skyrocketed in popularity.
Again, if i had read this right when it came out, I'm sure I would have absolutely drank this koolaid. I get the appeal. But I am not a sad white teenage boy. So this book is very emphatically not for me.
There are so many little bits of the story that I thought were so interesting and deserved to be explored more, but were left untouched and instead we followed this stupid decent into madness.
Also, listen, I am a scaredy-cat. I am a coward. I am horrendously anxious and everything scares me.
This horror book is not scary.
There was no point at which I was scared. Nor was there a point at which I was nervous about what might happen. And I'll tell you why; The obnoxious way in which it is written makes it damn near impossible to be completely absorbed by the story. You have to keep pulling yourself out to flip the book upside-down or inside out or shake it so the words fall out. There's not enough time spent sitting in the actual suspense. I get that the writing is used to make the reader also feel like they are going crazy. But mostly it just made me very aware that I was reading a very (literally) heavy book. (It's weighs like 4lbs and for what?)
I am also, a big dumb dummy. So maybe I "Just don't get it" Maybe if I "Got it" It would be scarier. But it did not scare me, and it did not change my life. I do not understand the airs around this book in it changing people's lives. I just don't. Did it change your life? How? Please tell me. If there is someone out there whose life was changed by this book, please for the love of all things literary, tell me how it did that.
AND ANOTHER THING There is a point near the end of the narrative (not the end of the book, which is an important distinction) at which the book starts referencing itself and becomes an ouroboros of pretension. Like, House of Leaves, and it's mythos, exist in the universe of this fictional narrative. Unacceptable.
Now the important distinction between the end of the narrative and the end of the book; this book goes on for another 100 pages after the story reaches a logical conclusion. As a result, House of Leaves doesn't actually end. Which I guess is like, the point? But you didn't need to use 700 pages to explain that life is suffering that never ends. Hey Look, I just did it in less than a sentence. Neat.
Anyway, MY point is that I managed to read this book, the biggest book I've ever read, in a weekend. The first narrative was compelling enough that I wanted to keep reading and was willing to ignore the rest of the nonsense that was going on around it. I really wish Danielewski had just written the story about the spooky ever-changing house. Which I imagine could have been done in like 300 pages or less. However the other 1.5 narratives are self-fellatio, and again, it's not for me.
So, should you read this book?
Well let me ask you this; are you a 15-25 year old white male who feels misunderstood and is probably depressed or have the mentality of the same? Then yes. You could probably read this book and enjoy it.
Are you not? Then read Piranesi instead. It's also a book about a labyrinth and a man's decent into madness, but it is almost a third of the length, is generally pleasant, and has an ending.