“This is not for you.”

There are some books that pass into legend as being unlike anything else. House of Leaves is one of those. It has sat on my shelf for years at this point, daring me to pluck up the courage to explore it. As much a work of art as a story, it begs to be read, even though you know it’s not going to be easy. Given everyone else seems to be using quarantine as a time to get through those books they’ve been putting off forever (a lot of people are struggling through Middlemarch as we speak), it was literally now or never.

Johnny Truant, an LA tattoo artist, has discovered a manuscript in the apartment of a dead man called Zampanò that is an academic study of a film called The Navidson Record. Truant is unable to find any evidence of the film’s existence, however, and many of the references that Zampanò alludes to don’t exist either. Truant shares the whole study with us, interjecting with his own footnotes and edits.

The bulk of the text focuses on The Navidson Record, a film made by photojournalist Will Navidson, who has recently moved into a new house in Virginia. With cameras set up in every room, he intends to use the move as a project to reunite his strained family relationships, but the house has other ideas. Upon returning home one day, the family discover a closet that wasn’t there before they left. Upon further analysis, Navidson discovers that the house is a quarter-inch bigger on the inside than the outside. Calling in his brother and some friends to examine this irregularity, Navidson soon decides that they should enter this new closet, only to find that it leads to an impossibly huge labyrinth, all in black, that changes and warps constantly and seems to have no end. Compelled to document his findings, Navidson begins to construct the film that will make him famous, but there will be costs and dangers that he cannot yet dream of.

Whew. I freely admit that there was a lot of skim-reading taking place here. While the bulk of the story – that of the house and the Navidson family’s relationship with it – is what drives the narrative, none of it is as simple as that. Truant leaves a lot of footnotes, sometimes explaining some specific of Zampanò’s text, or sometimes talking about what’s happening in his own life. Some of these footnotes run on for multiple pages, and it quickly becomes clear that he is not a reliable narrator by any means. I skimmed a lot of these as I didn’t find his story as interesting as the main one, so I admit I may have missed out on some things. Nonetheless, I feel I got the gist.

The piece is as much a work of art as it is a story, and as my friend suggested, it seems to be pushing the idea of what a novel is or can be. Arguments can be made as to whether it worked or not given there is nothing else like this, but I think, while the story is good – and genuinely terrifying – it is the style that people keep returning to this book for. Every contributor has their own font, which is mesmerising for a start, and I’ve already mentioned the long footnotes, but there is so much more going on here. Some pages contain just a few words, others contain overlapping threads, with six different strands of story or footnote tied together, arriving in text boxes or upside down. Some bits require a mirror to read, others will need you to flip the book upside down. Sometimes the text mirrors the action of the story, such as moving up the page when a character is climbing, or shrinking to a tiny area in the middle of the page when Navidson is crawling through a small gap. There are transcripts and interviews, snatches of music, scientific explanations on mythology or science that seem to serve little purpose. Some pages are missing, others have text crossed out, and in the lengthy appendices, there are drawings and photographs to corroborate the evidence of this film and house that may or may not exist. Danielewski is some kind of mad genius and this book is truly the work of someone either incredibly intelligent or frighteningly mad. Some call it a horror story, others a romance, but all that seems certain is that anyone who comes into contact with this house in any way – including just reading about it – has their own interpretation.

I’m not a bit sorry I read it, but I’m also not in a hurry to return. The house changes you.

Did you know that as well as reviewing everything I read, I also write novels, too? My books blend black humour with light horror, crossing genres with ordinary characters dealing with extraordinary circumstances. Head over to wherever you buy books to take a look at my two offerings. The first, The Atomic Blood-stained Bus, introduces you to a cannibal, an ex-god and the last witches of Britain, while the second, The Third Wheel, follows Dexter who is tired of being single while all his friends get married and settle down, but has a change of priority when aliens invade the planet. I hope you enjoy!