nclusvevaliant's Full Review: Mark Z. Danielewski and Zampano - House of Leaves
This review is not for you.
4 am. Just a few hours from receiving this book, I have already dived into nearly a hundred pages of this maze. When I will sleep, I do not know. When I will eat, I do not know. For the first time in my life, I am thankful I am unemployed. The candles surrounding my bedside have withered away to a gathering of melted wax at the bottom of their glass entrapments. The stereo put on repeat to an intense instrumental song has been hosting noise through it’s undistinguished speakers for what seems like days. Will I ever be able to put this book down?
For those of you used to writers like Stephen King, or Danielle Steele, this book is a lot more difficult to follow. But, if you enjoy movies like Four Rooms, or Pulp Fiction, you’ll be just fine.
It starts out innocent enough, with the exception of the first page, reading only ‘This is not for you.’ You are introduced to Johnny Truant; a lonely bachelor that works at an inferior tattoo parlor, where he is a mere assistant to the actual tattoo artist. But soon, you are introduced to much more impressive characters, such as Zampanó, another lonely man, with a lot of time on his hands, or at least had a lot of time on his hands; until he fell victim to death, leaving behind only his journals and collections of The Navidson Record. A supposed documentary that will leave Johnny craving Zampanó’s return to the living to help him understand this very intricately detailed journey of a house that refuses to stay the same on the outside as it is on the inside.
”Of course, it is impossible to consider any sort of construction, whether of homes, factories, shops, stores, department stores, market halls, conservatories, exhibition buildings, railway stations, warehouses, and office buildings, exchanges and banks, hotels, prisons, hospitals, museums, libraries, theaters, churches, bridges, airports, town halls, law courts, ministries, and public offices, Houses of parliament, monuments, parks, even towns, and cities, public works, etc. etc. without paying such heed to such names as Thomas Hall Beeby, Ricardo Bofill, John Simpson, Steven Holl, Léon Krier, Richard Neutra, Andres Duany, and Elizabeth Plater-Zyberk, Ramon Fortet, Daniel Libeskind, Quinlan Terry, Allan Greenberg, Jane B. Drew, Robin Seifert, Frank Gehry, Jean Willerval, Arat Isozaki, Kisho Kurowaka, Gisue and Mojgan Hariri, John Outram, Zaha Hadid, Peter Eisenmann, Richard Meier, John Hejduk, Aldo Rossi, Herman Hertzberger, Louis E. Fry Sr., Louis E. Fry Jr., Louis E. Fry III, Santiago Calatrava, I. M. Pei, Recardo Scofidio, Harry G. Robinson III, Terry Farrell, Bernard Tschumi, Charles F. McAfee, Eva Vecsei, the Coop Himmelblau, Cheryl L. McAfee, Charles Eames, Simon Rodia, Ray Eames, Ricardo Bofill, Donald L. Stull, M. David Lee, Michael Graves, Elizabeth Diller, Charles Moore, Bruno Taut, Robert Traynham Coles, Mies van der Rohe……"(this particular footnote goes on, upside down, on the side of the right-hand pages for eight pages…)
There are even parts of this book that are written in red writing, struck out, as if you aren’t supposed to read it. (But I think to myself as I sit here at 8 am, still diving even further now into the depths of these manilla pages, why would they be left in the book if I was not to read them? I ponder this thought for a while, as I light another Newport, and re-light the candle that became the defenseless victim of my exhaling, and was extinguished. Further I read, as further I am pulled in, and not being released anytime soon…)
Such emotion, such depth, so hard to reenact, even the tear-jerking moral support that Johnny’s mother uses in her letters to him from the psychiatric institute she was sent to. ”As old Goethe wrote, ‘Wouldst shape a noble life? Then cast no backward glances toward the past, and though somewhat be lost and gone, yet do thou act as one new born.’”
The Navidson Record. My heart pounds to the beat of every word printed on these many pages, filled with adventures and explorations the family proceeds to take themselves on. This house, how is it possible that a simple, shallow broom closet on the first floor, can cause an echo? By definition, at 68 degrees Fahrenheit sound travels at approximately 1,130ft per second. A reflective surface must stand at least 56 ½ ft away in order for a person to detect the doubling of his/her voice. 56 ½ ft away? This closet is not that deep… I have to find out why there is an echo in this closet… I wonder if Karen knows Navy is exploring this closet…
Karen, being Navy’s wife, is against the explorations that Navy and his brother Tom have been infatuated with starting. To find out why this house is growing, yet staying the same size outside. But not even the love for his wife, and two children is going to stop Navy from concurring this house.
As you read on, you are brought almost right into the house with them on their explorations. You can almost smell the mildew, you can almost feel the beads of frightful sweat collecting on their foreheads. But dare they stop now, not a chance. As they come across a spiral staircase. One that they can only imagine how far it extends downward, and are less than prepared to find out, but decide to anyway. (Wait, just a minute ago, it was only a few feet down, how can it be over ten stories now? As I curl myself into the fetal position, anxious to find out how they intend to explain this to the cameras, as well as the tape recorders they have prepared themselves with…)
Not only are the words intense to read, but the way the book is put together, it brings you a sense of endlessness, with only having a paragraph on the entire page, or even on page 312, just a lonely period, in the middle of the paper. It draws you into the depths of the explorations and the insanity it causes by the editing styles used. Even having one miniscule box in the middle of the page, while 3 or 4, sometimes even 5 sets of footnotes are surrounding the text you are meant to read, causing confusion to the reader. Upside down, sideways, struck out, backward, anyway possible to be printed in a book. Even a few select are typed over and over, layered over each other.
With the entire book being 662 pages including photos and notes to the editor, if you flip to the back, you will find 42 pages for the Index. Now, most authors will put words in the Index so you can find where those words are used, in a certain context, or to define a certain thing. Mark on the other hand, puts such words as time, something, see, room, and out. (Among other important words like Navidson Record and Zampanó.)
When first brought to my attention at a diner in Montgomery County, MD, this book sounded like something that I may, or may not pick up. But when Christmas rolled around, and I unwrapped the very thick book, I was ecstatic. As soon as I opened it to the first few pages, I was in awe. My father actually asked me to flip to a random page, and read a passage from it. The page randomly chosen was page 229, ”behind a closing”being all the text on the page. Laughter poured throughout the room, but it intrigued me even further. This is the only book in history that made me jump, cry, shiver, scream, and fear for what would happen next. I am not much of a reader, believe me, so this book causing actual psychical reactions surprised me immensely.
.
Y g g
d
r
a
s
i
l
What miracle is this? This giant tree.
It stands ten thousand feet high.
But doesn’t reach the ground. Still it stands.
It’s roots must hold the sky.
O
(Page 709, the official end of the book. Riddle? Maybe...)
Braille, musical notes, latin passages, endless footnotes, 7 perspectives, even passages from the musician Poe, Mark’s sister. But don’t worry, each person’s perspective is written in a different type of font, which I cannot really reenact in this review. You’ll have to pick up the book to see for yourself.
I’ve cried so many tears for Johnny’s mother, I’ve screamed loud enough for the house to hear my cries to the family, there are no words to describe the feeling I have encountered reading this book. I cannot believe I finished this 600 page book in less than a week. What time is it? What day is it? Have I eaten? I don’t know. And honestly, I don’t care…
If this review reads a little scattered, well then I have achieved my goal; to show you all the eclecticism this book has to offer, and how ingenious Mark Danielewski really is. I tried my best to make this review read as if you were turning the 600 pages of the novel. So, in conclusion, if you enjoyed the originality of this review, be sure and check out the book, because a mediocre writer such as myself could never capture the masterfully written emotion.
The textbook, House of Leaves : A Novel, by Mark Z. Danielewski, available in Paperback. Published by: Random House, Inc.. Edition: . ISBN10: 037...More at Textbooks.com
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