The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson (novel #189)

The house was vile. She shivered and thought, the words coming freely into her mind, Hill House is vile, it is diseased; get away from here at once.

 

The Haunting of Hill House is of course, a horror story. 

 

Or is it? It is often called a gothic horror story. I certainly agree with the gothic part, but horror? I’m not so sure. 

 

Hill House has a sinister reputation, and it comes to the attention of Dr. John Mantague, an investigator of the supernatural. He’s probably not taken very serious by his academic colleagues, and he sets out to occupy Hill House one summer to document its – peculiarities? – with the assistance of volunteers, Theodora and Eleanor, who are to take notes and be corroborating witnesses. Both have had alleged experience with the paranormal. The party is completed by Luke Sanderson, skeptic, nephew of the owner, and apparent heir to Hill House.

 

The story is told primarily from Eleanor’s perspective, which casts an uncertain light on the mysteries of Hill House. I thought Eleanor was a flake from nearly the first minute she is introduced, and not because she believes in the supernatural. As the story unfolds, I realize she isn’t just a bit flakey, she’s rather nuts, and in the end, quite mad.

 

Which makes her entire perspective unreliable. I’m certain this was Jackson’s intent. Vague sort of SPOILER ALERT ahead.

 

I’m not sure if Hill House was haunted, or if Eleanor is just mad. Or something in between. Perhaps Hill House drove her mad, or perhaps it possessed her. 

 

Is there a term for that author’s device of intentional ambiguity? Especially of the climactic ending? If there is, Jackson uses it well, coupled with her beautiful prose.

 

No human eye can isolate the unhappy coincidence of line and place which suggests evil the face of a house, and yet somehow a maniac juxtaposition, a badly turned angle, some chance meeting of roof and sky, turned Hill House into a place of despair, more frightening because the face of Hill House seemed awake, with a watchfulness from the windows and a touch of glee in the eyebrow of cornice. Almost any house, caught unexpectedly or at an odd angle, can turn a deeply humorous look on a watching person; even a mischievous little chimney, or a dormer like a dimple, can catch up a beholder with a sense of fellowship; but a house arrogant and hating, never off guard, can only be evil. This house, which seemed somehow to have formed itself, flying together into its own powerful pattern under the hands of its builders, fitting itself into its own construction of lines and angles, reared its great head back against the sky without concession to humanity. It was a house without kindness, never meant to be lived in, not a fit place for people or for love or for hope. Exorcism cannot alter the countenance of a house; Hill House would stay as it was until it was destroyed.

 

I wanted to love this, or at least be terrified by it…but neither. It isn’t terribly scary, and I was a bit disappointed in the ambiguous ending. It's still very much worth the read. I’ll definitely read more by Shirley Jackson.

 

And don’t take my word for it. Stephen King listed it among the finest horror novels of the late 20^thCentury, and Neil Gaiman named it as the scariest book of fiction he’d ever read. (From this I conclude Gaiman never read Ulysses.)

 

 

My rating 3 ½ out of 5 stars

 

 

I read this for R.I.P. XVI, and The Classics Club spin #28

 

.

The Classics Club Spin #28

It is time for the 28th edition of the Classics Club Spin – List 20 books from my Classics Club TBR, the moderators will pick a random number between 1 - 20, and I then have until December 12, 2021 to read the corresponding book. 

 

UPDATE: The SPIN landed on #12 meaning The Haunting of Hill House for me. I'm quite happy about this because I was disappointed with both of my reads for R.I.P XVI, so I'm going to add it to that challenge.(relax...it's allowed). 

It so happens, I have exactly 20 novels left on my Round III list, including the Foundation trilogy by Isaac Asimov – which I intend to read in order, so if I get one of them, I’ll have to read all three. I’m hoping for The Last Unicorn #20, or The Great God Pan #16. I’d rather not get any of the big tomes, but that’s sort of the point of the spin, right? Motivate us to read, what we’re not motivated for. I’m still hoping for #20 or #16 though.

 

 

My spin list

 

1. Foundation and Empire

2. Dombey and Son

3. The Recognitions 

4. Portnoy's Complaint

5. Martin Chuzzlewit

6. The Death of the Heart 

7. Second Foundation

8. Nightmare Abbey 

9. Foundation

10. Little Dorrit

11. Barnaby Rudge

And the winner is...

12. The Haunting of Hill House

13. The Adventures of Oliver Twist

14. The Magus

15. Our Mutual Friend

16. The Great God Pan

17. Loving

18. A House for Mr. Biswas 

19. Lord Jim

20. The Last Unicorn

.

The Collector by John Fowles (novel #188)

Having her was enough. Nothing needed doing. I just wanted to have her…

~ The Collector

 

The Collector is the debut novel of John Fowles, who is probably best known for The French Lieutenant’s Woman. The Collector is often categorized as a thriller or psychological horror, which was why I picked it for reading in October, but I don’t consider it to be either. 

 

It is the story of a disturbed and lonely young man, obsessed with a beautiful young woman. Frederick is socially awkward, lives with his aunt and cousin, and would probably just have worshipped Miranda from afar, until he wins a small fortune in “the pools”. 

 

They say that power corrupts… and that money is power… so now that he has money – power – Fredericks launches a plan to kidnap Miranda.

 

And unfortunately, he succeeds, quite affectively.

 

The novel is told in two alternating parts: Frederick’s perspective and Miranda’s in epistolary form. 

 

What she never understood was that with me it was having. Having her was enough. Nothing needed doing. I just wanted to have her, and safe at last.

 

And he stands. He’s the most tremendous stander-around I’ve ever met.

 

He’s a collector. That’s the great dead thing in him.

 

I know it’s pathetic, I know he’s a victim of a miserable Nonconformist suburban world and a miserable social class, the horrid timid copycatting genteel in-between class.

 

All those days I knew I would never love another the same. There was only Miranda for ever.

 

It was captivating - pardon the pun. Not knowing the end, I kept reading, hoping for something hopeful or heroic. Frederick never “abuses” Miranda – other than the whole denying her freedom thing – and as she gets to know him, Miranda feels sympathy, and determines to seek help and clemency for him once she is free. But in the end, the reader has nothing but a sickening fear. 

 

Had I known a bit more about this novel in advance, I wouldn’t have read it. Fowles is a talented writer, so talented that at times I felt empathy for the villain, as does Miranda. That’s not all bad; I believe every villain has a human story. Clinical study of their pathology may be useful for preventive and corrective measures, but as a form of entertainment I don’t think there’s much benefit. 

 

But for the author’s narrative and believable portrayal of two opposite and complex perspectives, I give The Collector

 

2 ½ out of 5 stars

 

 

I read this for R.I.P. XVI, as some have categorized it as horror or thriller. I wouldn’t necessarily call it either, but I didn’t know that before reading it, so it stands as one of my books for this challenge. 

 

There are numerous literary references throughout The Collector. The main being, that Miranda nicknames her captor Caliban – from Shakespeare’s The Tempest, where the monster Caliban is obsessed with beautiful Miranda. She also compares the two of them to Dante and Beatrice.

 

Miranda tries to “teach” Frederick about art and literature and gets him to read The Catcher in the Rye – he doesn’t like it or get it. She reads several other classic novels during her captivity.

 

"Collector" is a double entendre, as Frederick is a butterfly collector…that is before he collects Miranda. 

 

.

Six Degrees of Separation: from The Lottery to Lucky Jim

Six Degrees of Separation is a monthly meme hosted by Kate @ booksarmyfavouriteandbest. 

 

I usually try to stick to the classics, though that isn’t among the official rules.

 

And this month, I’m all over the place…AND…and I’m very pleased with this, this link can work backwards or forwards. Hence the circle – you’ll see.

 

This month’s chain begins with The Lottery by Shirley Jackson (haven’t read it). It reminds me of my current read, The Collector by John Fowles because the main character wins the lottery (the “pools” in Jolly Ole England). The jury is still out but it’s very creepy. Bit of a spoiler here, but there is a person held prisoner in the main character’s house, and that reminds me of…

 

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë, also a little creepy. But, also very good, one of my all-time favorite novels. The overall plot is somewhat mirrored by my most recent read…

 

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, in which the entire household is “haunted” by the memory of the late Rebecca de Winter. That reminds me of…

 

Beloved by Toni Morrison because the household is very literally haunted by a former member. Also a very good novel. The title, and nothing else about it reminds me of…

 

The Loved One by Evelyn Waugh, which was a very different novel than I’d experienced by Waugh. I would call it a comic novel, and that reminds me of…

 

Lucky Jim a comic novel by Kinglsey Amis. And to complete the circle, you would have to be lucky to win the lottery.

 

 

 

 

 

And that is how you get clockwise from The Lottery to Lucky Jim, or if you prefer, counterclockwise from The Lottery to The Collector. 

.

 

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier (novel #187)

Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. ~ opening line

 

Rebecca is an early 20^thCentury Gothic novel set mostly in Cornwall England. The title character never appears in the novel, yet she is the central character; morbid, malign, and mysterious. 

 

The unnamed narrator is a 20-something lady’s companion, when she meets a wealthy English widower on holiday in Monte Carlo. After a whirlwind courtship she becomes Mrs. Maxim de Winter, the second Mrs. Maxim de Winter, and the Lady of Manderley.

 

It is the promise of gracious living, a promise quickly broken.

 

The young bride feels out of place and insecure in her new station. She feels like a pet to her worldly husband, simple and foolish to the dignified staff, and miserably intimidated by the overbearing housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers.

 

But more than this, the new Mrs. de Winter learns that Manderley, its staff, and her husband are “haunted” by the late Rebecca de Winter.

 

I was just a bit disappointed in this novel, but I believe it is due more to unfairly high expectations rather than any fault in the story. For one thing I thought it was a ghost story. My mistake, but still a letdown. But more importantly, I’ve read a number of bloggers who love this book, and it just set my expectations very high. If I set aside my preconceptions, I profess the writing is quite beautiful. I felt the story was fascinating, but a bit weak on one, and only one point. I found it unrealistic how quickly and completely the narrator came to terms with her husband’s shocking revelation, and if I believe it, I am rather dismayed by her acceptance of it. 

 

Still, it was a compelling story, marvelously told. This was my first read of du Maurier; And the author’s name is fun to say.

 

My rating 3 1/2 of 5 stars

 

I read this for R.I.P. XVI, and although it wasn’t the ghost story I was expecting, it is a Gothic novel, also sort of a mystery, so it still satisfies the requirements of the challenge. 

 

Excerpts – all by the narrator:

 

I believe there is a theory that men and women emerge finer and stronger after suffering, and that to advance in this or any world we must endure ordeal by fire. 

 

I suppose sooner or later in the life of everyone comes a moment of trial. We all of us have our particular devil who rides us and torments us, and we must give battle in the end.

 

Happiness is not a possession to be prized, it is a quality of thought, a state of mind.

 

…boredom is a pleasing antidote to fear.

 

“If only there could be an invention,” I said impulsively, “that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.”

 

Rebecca, always Rebecca. I should never be rid of Rebecca.

 

I could fight the living, but I could not fight the dead.

 

I was not afraid. I would fight for Maxim. I would lie and perjure and swear, I would blaspheme and pray. Rebecca had not won. Rebecca had lost.

 

 .