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Why, yes, I am the very model of a modern Major-General.
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Reviews (1)
16 November 2010
A chilling testament to independent writing
1 of 1 found this helpful When one things of the Indy genre, they usually think of movies or sometimes computer games, often at which publishing companies would turn up their noses, but one cannot deny that the movement of independent creation is often what drives the wheel of creativity. The independent label can also be applied to unique schools of thought. House of Leaves is a case example of the latter.
It's difficult to classify House of Leaves. At its core, there exists within its universe a movie equivalent to the Blair Witch project, simultaneously claimed to be a factual account of a man's exploration into the paranormal nature of his own home and a mere independent film with some unusually poor storytelling techniques. This movie (called The Navidson Report after its protagonist) is in turn being given an academic review complete with exhibits, footnotes and appendices by a man named Zampanò, which is the actual contents of the book itself. Zampanò laboriously describes and analyzes the contents of the documentary, while his work in yet another layer of storytelling is pieced together and analyzed by another man named Johnny Truant.
You see, Zampanò is missing, and from the remains of the manuscript which is the review of The Navidson Report, his disappearance was violent and driven with the same sheer madness that had apparently infected the victim himself. Truant assembles the manuscript and begins to read and write comments of his own, and so the cycle begins again...
A story within a story within a story, House of Leaves defies genre by simultaneously telling the horror/love story of Navidson as his house warps and attempts to consume him, the horror/abstract/satirical story of Zampanò as he rapidly descends into madness upon viewing the film, and the horror/love/redemption story of Truant as he struggles to make sense of the writing and his own life becomes increasingly shadowy. The only common element between the three layers of storytelling is that something is horribly, horribly wrong with this house.
Just to give you a brief idea of how long this house has been a problem, a notebook was once found on the land which the house would eventually be buried upon, the only remains of an 18th century winter expedition team. The last entry in that notebook: "Ftaires! We have found ftaires!"
Read it, but not in the dark where the minotaur walks.