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A review by l_nolastname
House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski
1.0
0/5 [BECAUSE GOODREADS HATE US AND WON'T LET US GIVE ZERO STARS]
This is my second reading of this book for TV CLUB PRESENT: BOOK CLUB and upon rereading it, and after the abysmal and racist, The Familiar, I was not feeling it.
The first time through, The Navidson Record bewitched me and that is why I have always recommended it to others to read. Well that, and to experience ergodic literature. However, this time around the copious amounts of misogyny and micro-aggressions were such an eye sore that it even ruined the once enchanting, The Navidson Record. And let's face it, that is ALL this story has going for itself. Ain't nobody reading this trite tome for Johnny Truant a.k.a self-insertion metalewski.
The only reason I was even interested in reading this book the first time was because Poe, Mark Z. Danielewski's younger sister, dedicated her second studio album to creating a soundtrack for House of Leaves. An unprecedented thing to do during the turn of the century. And while I played that album on repeat waiting for this book to debut–life happened and I forgot about it. I didn't remember until fourteen years later while stumbling upon it in a bookstore. So excited was I to finally read this opus that I created a book club [BOOKUN] just so I could have someone to process with.
Needless to say, BOOKUN hated it! I knew what I was getting into so I disliked it for different reasons. But I glossed over my initial dislike to embrace what i enjoyed, foolishly recommending it to others; for it is an experience. I feel like the majority of the people who have read or have attempted to read this book are of the mind that in doing so they are somehow "superior" to other readers, nay book lovers. The amount of booktubers that pontificate of this forest-decimating-circle-jerk is bewildering. Even more so when they speak about how "scary" it is. Bitch, where?! [Take offense if you like, but is this really what white people find scary? Or is it the idea of unwittingly stumbling into an episode of undiagnosed mental illness, what really frightens y'all? Cause do I got news for y'all! Mental Illness isn't scary, it's the inhumanity with which society at large treats those during an episode that's really and truly horrifying.]
It is glaringly obvious that Danielewski considers himself, but would never say so for that is a title bestowed upon one, an auteur writer [Have you read, The Familiar? *insert eye*]. One who's works not only defiy, but also transcend the page and must be told through the lens of the small-sliver-screen to truly grasp the "genius". Look the dude's dad was a Polish avant-guard director, he's clearly trying to do something with that, like that, not that. And to that I say, "you have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting." [quote by Adhemar from A Knight's Tale] Yeah, I too can transcend the genre. "What, like it's hard?" [Legally Blond, baby!]
Anyways if you wanna read about an undiagnosed, self-medicating man-child who's personal defaults are etched into his very countenance, who consistently punches above his weight and is predestined to lands hit after hit, while physically and mentally deteriorating in real time, then look no further than Johhny "Front & Center Dead Tooth" Truant and his equally "believable" scamp of a pal, Lude.
I will say that unlike Lev Grossman [and don't get me started on Mr. Lev "Sexually-Romanticizing Rape Scenes & Ephebophilia" Grossman], Mark Z. Danielewski is not intimately acquainted with mental illness. Especially not Schizophrenia, nor homelessness, nor women for that matter. Like have you even met people, bro? His views on those he considereds less than himself are on full display whenever he speaks of: those who live with mental illness or a disability, the homeless, women, people of color. The only people he has grace for in his world are, cis-straight-white-men.
Chapter IX, The Labyrinth, was well executed. The footnote scavenger hunt coupled with the insipid exposition brilliantly articulated the experience of choosing a path and aimlessly wandering about only to arrive at a dead end, then subsequently retracing your steps to choose a new path in order to start again.
Read it, don't read it, but whatever you do do not waste your time on The Familiar, Vol. 1, that bull shit is the first "episode" of a wannabe twenty-two "episode" series about a girl finding a cat one torrential-rainy May day; I'm out.
This is my second reading of this book for TV CLUB PRESENT: BOOK CLUB and upon rereading it, and after the abysmal and racist, The Familiar, I was not feeling it.
The first time through, The Navidson Record bewitched me and that is why I have always recommended it to others to read. Well that, and to experience ergodic literature. However, this time around the copious amounts of misogyny and micro-aggressions were such an eye sore that it even ruined the once enchanting, The Navidson Record. And let's face it, that is ALL this story has going for itself. Ain't nobody reading this trite tome for Johnny Truant a.k.a self-insertion metalewski.
The only reason I was even interested in reading this book the first time was because Poe, Mark Z. Danielewski's younger sister, dedicated her second studio album to creating a soundtrack for House of Leaves. An unprecedented thing to do during the turn of the century. And while I played that album on repeat waiting for this book to debut–life happened and I forgot about it. I didn't remember until fourteen years later while stumbling upon it in a bookstore. So excited was I to finally read this opus that I created a book club [BOOKUN] just so I could have someone to process with.
Needless to say, BOOKUN hated it! I knew what I was getting into so I disliked it for different reasons. But I glossed over my initial dislike to embrace what i enjoyed, foolishly recommending it to others; for it is an experience. I feel like the majority of the people who have read or have attempted to read this book are of the mind that in doing so they are somehow "superior" to other readers, nay book lovers. The amount of booktubers that pontificate of this forest-decimating-circle-jerk is bewildering. Even more so when they speak about how "scary" it is. Bitch, where?! [Take offense if you like, but is this really what white people find scary? Or is it the idea of unwittingly stumbling into an episode of undiagnosed mental illness, what really frightens y'all? Cause do I got news for y'all! Mental Illness isn't scary, it's the inhumanity with which society at large treats those during an episode that's really and truly horrifying.]
It is glaringly obvious that Danielewski considers himself, but would never say so for that is a title bestowed upon one, an auteur writer [Have you read, The Familiar? *insert eye*]. One who's works not only defiy, but also transcend the page and must be told through the lens of the small-sliver-screen to truly grasp the "genius". Look the dude's dad was a Polish avant-guard director, he's clearly trying to do something with that, like that, not that. And to that I say, "you have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting." [quote by Adhemar from A Knight's Tale] Yeah, I too can transcend the genre. "What, like it's hard?" [Legally Blond, baby!]
Anyways if you wanna read about an undiagnosed, self-medicating man-child who's personal defaults are etched into his very countenance, who consistently punches above his weight and is predestined to lands hit after hit, while physically and mentally deteriorating in real time, then look no further than Johhny "Front & Center Dead Tooth" Truant and his equally "believable" scamp of a pal, Lude.
I will say that unlike Lev Grossman [and don't get me started on Mr. Lev "Sexually-Romanticizing Rape Scenes & Ephebophilia" Grossman], Mark Z. Danielewski is not intimately acquainted with mental illness. Especially not Schizophrenia, nor homelessness, nor women for that matter. Like have you even met people, bro? His views on those he considereds less than himself are on full display whenever he speaks of: those who live with mental illness or a disability, the homeless, women, people of color. The only people he has grace for in his world are, cis-straight-white-men.
Chapter IX, The Labyrinth, was well executed. The footnote scavenger hunt coupled with the insipid exposition brilliantly articulated the experience of choosing a path and aimlessly wandering about only to arrive at a dead end, then subsequently retracing your steps to choose a new path in order to start again.
Read it, don't read it, but whatever you do do not waste your time on The Familiar, Vol. 1, that bull shit is the first "episode" of a wannabe twenty-two "episode" series about a girl finding a cat one torrential-rainy May day; I'm out.