31 Days, 31 Screams: Resurrection- Day 11 (The Haunting Of Hill House)

You knew I had to use it.

Good lord. I'm stepping into boots that might be too big for me here, in trying to tackle this book. There's a certain... richness to the whole thing, an endless swirling expanse of possibilities and uncertainties involving the analysis of it. You could teach it as part of a high school or college English class. It probably has been, come to think of it, but I never got to tackle anything quite so weighty in my English classes. (Okay, but high school did give me Macbeth, and college did give me Frankenstein, so it wasn't all bad.) I suppose, then, the best way to begin this is to talk about that uncertainty. No, a better word would be... unreliability. That's the main undercurrent I took from the whole affair when I finished it. Unreliability and confusion over what was going on. It all seemed to actively contradict itself, an ambiguous mess of mystery that ended in tragedy. As we follow our point of view character, Eleanor, through her extended stay at the titular (and supposedly) haunted Hill House... what exactly happened here? Weird shit seems to happen but it just as easily might not have happened. Characters alternate between being nice and charming to Eleanor, and passive-aggressive insulting assholes. Things just keep flip-flopping back and forth, and at first I thought it was just the situation getting worse... but then it all snapped back. And snapped again. Back and forth, in and out. What was going on here?


The way forward is to consider Eleanor, and consider Hill House in tandem with her. Stephen King (about whom you'll be hearing more regarding this story real soon, with luck), in his non-fiction horror analysis novel Danse Macabre, takes a bit of time to analyze the opening paragraph of Hill House. As a fellow writer, he finds it utterly fascinating and well-crafted, and goes into a bit of that. What's pertinent is his reading that says Hill House looks fine on the outside, but inside is a totally different story; a deadly place, a place that kills. He then makes an offhand reference to Norman Bates of Psycho fame "looking fine on the outside" as well, and that's the hook we need. Eleanor and Hill House, you see, are mirroring each other. On the outside, Hill House is fine. Ordinary and plain. Inside, it is a nightmare labyrinth of disorientating design, a house that is... well, to use a loaded term, atypical. (Jackson's use of atmosphere and lavish description of the interiors of Hill House is also well-noted here, and one of my main initial takeaways when I first put the book down.) Eleanor is the same. Ordinary on the outside. Inside... a nightmare labyrinth of disorientating intrusive thoughts, a person that is... yes, neuroatypical. The titular haunting, then, could just as easily be the hallucinations, anxieties, and lashings out of an unfortunately unwell woman. Nowhere does this become clearer than her relationship with the other main woman in the story, Theodora. Theodora is a darling, elegant and witty and classy... and, it has to be said, the energy given off between Eleanor and Theodora is absolutely peak lesbian energy. You can just about ship it, from a modern mindset... but then those passive-aggressive moments rear up again, and Theo snaps back and forth between doting and straight-up mean to Eleanor. How much of this is actually happening, though, and how much is Eleanor imagining? Is it anxiety making her assume the worst of Theo's tones and inclinations? Is it straight up imagining things that were never said? Who can say for sure? I imagine the real Theodora to be just as elegant and charming as she was in her happier moments, doing her best to help her new friend... but, sadly, failing to do so. This rich ambiguous relationship is shown, to lesser degrees, with the other players in the story. It's Eleanor and Theodora who show it in the greatest detail, though. There are so many little details that I can't begin to list them off, or we'll be writing a college paper. A short post will have to do.


And then, tragedy. When I first read it, knowing I was coming to the end, the sad end seemed abrupt. Now, knowing what I know? It only makes sense... and if you think about it, you can likely guess how it had to go for Eleanor. I don't want to spoil the book, not really (and if you're Canadian, it's actually in the public domain somehow so YOU CAN JUST READ IT FOR FREE HOT GODDAMN), but I do have to end this somewhere, so there will have to do. Even the very quick "happy ending" where we see where everyone made it in the end feels melancholy and bittersweet, and then the whole thing ends as it began, with Hill House standing silently against its rolling green hills. It ends the only way it could, and I end the post the only way I could; by telling you to grab this book, give it a read for the spooky season, and think real hard about what the hell is going on within the maze of twisty, lavishly described, passages that make up Hill House. It inspired a lot of people, people I respect greatly, and thinking of its implications inspires me too. One of those inspired people, as I said, was Stephen King. Now I wonder what he could have taken from it, beyond his praise for that opening paragraph...?