Author: Lola

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski is a rather mysterious, psychological book that defies the name of narrative, and breaks the standards most books have (and any that I’ve personally read). It is, in short terms, a book within a book within another book (the actual book), though it goes much deeper than that… it focuses on multiple narratives at once: The Navidson Record (journal entries and video recordings that log a family’s move in to a new house), and Johnny Truant (a man who writes about an old man who made an essay, or a book, on The Navidson Record… which doesn’t exist, by the way). In short: the Navidsons move into a new house, that seems normal at first, but then basically deletes all laws of… everything and anything, whenever it wants, and does whatever it wants, causing the family to slowly deteriorate into a soft madness.

Oddly enough, a slight draft keeps easing one of the closet doors shut. It has an eerie effect because each time the door closes we lose sight of the children.

“Hey, would you mind propping that open with something?” Navid-son asks his brother.

Tom turns to Karen’s shelves and reaches for the largest volume he can find. A novel. Just as with Karen, its removal causes an immediate domino effect. Only this time, as the books topple into each other, the last few do not stop at the wall as they had previously done but fall instead to the floor, revealing at least a foot between the end of the shelf and the plaster.

Tom thinks nothing of it.

“Sorry.” he mumbled and leans over to pick up the scattered books. Which is exactly when Karen screams.

I really like this quote because it has some sort of connection to us as humans: how even the smallest, most inconvenient thing can hold everything together. For example, let’s put this quote into context. This is when the house first starts changing, the signs being that the inside is bigger than the outside, hence why they are so confused and not too rattled yet on the whole situation: their minds have yet to fully grasp it. When Karen first placed down that bookshelf, it was pressed to the side of the wall, and the first time the books fell, the wall had stopped it because it was close to the shelf. Karen is trying to distract herself, and bring peace to herself, trying to trick her mind into thinking nothing is strange, nothing is wrong, however, when the books fall a second time, they fall to the floor, revealing a foot of space where the wall had previously occupied, therefore proving the room is growing big on the inside. This sends Karen into distress, snapping her calm state into pieces once she is reminded that nothing, is in fact, okay. You can put this to real life situations as well. Ex. Some children are calm when given a favorite toy during stressful moments or interactions, this keeps them in a state of tranquility. If you take that toy away, they are then stripped of their means of protection, rendering them feeling bare and terrified as now there is nothing to protect and hold them together, nothing to look over the person.

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski is a complicated and psychological, imaginative book that plays around with the concept of narrative. House of Leaves is actually about a book inside of a book, written by an elderly man named Zampanò who had strangely passed away in his boarded up bedroom. This book was found by a man named Johnny Truant, who reads it and then describes to us his slow and painful deterioration (in multiple ways), which he explains will happen to us (the readers) when we read the book, too.

Then no matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or even in the comforts of your own home, you’ll watch yourself dismantle every assurance you ever lived by. You’ll stand aside as a great complexity intrudes, tearing apart, piece by piece, all of your carefully conceived denials, whether deliberate or unconscious. And then for better or worse you’ll turn, unable to resist, though try to resist you still will, fighting with everything you’ve got not to face the thing you most dread, what is now, what will be, what has always come before, the creature you truly are, the creature we all are, buried in the nameless black of a name.

I really like this quote because you can interpret it however you want, because Johnny Truant never actually explains what this deterioration was even about, or specifically cause by. I choose to believe this quote really digs into what actually makes us humans, what we are built by and around and most importantly, what we build. Denial. It goes to show how, we are so built up of our denials, we become a different person, we change in some sort of way, and when we are stripped of that, we are back to what we truly are: a creature, without a name because none of us even know who we are anymore. Then, you’ll watch, and realize, and try to stop the shredding of your skin, of your identity, the one that never really belonged to you. And you’ll fight and resist the grab in which your belongings and your walls are torn apart by, but you can never truly stop it, because in the end, you are still denying yourself.