House of Leaves

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What can be said about House of Leaves?  I knew nothing about this book when my friend bought it for me, except that she told me not to go flipping through it, and “this is not for you.”

Oh, how my imagination soared.

Would it be like The Never Ending Story, sucking me into a world where the lines between fiction and reality were blurred?  Was it even fiction?  I paid careful mind not to “cheat” with this one: not looking it up on Wiki beforehand, not Google-imaging it, no reviews, nothing – I went in completely open.

I won’t spoil the story here.  I will only say that it’s a horror story, and one hell of a ride.  The whole time I was reading it, I hated it, but I couldn’t put it down.  When it was finally over, I was so grateful to be able to read a “normal book again,” yet it somehow keeps reaching out for me long after I’d put it down.

This book was written as an experiment, and I can bet nothing like it has been created since.  While part of me thinks that’s is a good thing, as I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, the other part of me wants to send it to all my friends for Christmas.

Once you’ve read this book, you belong to a special club of people who won’t quite know what to say to each other, except to acknowledge the shared journey with wide eyes and nodding heads.

Indeed, this book is not for you.  It’s for no one, or perhaps everyone.

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