jessdrafahl's Reviews (154)

The Brilliant Death

A.R. Capetta

DID NOT FINISH: 17%

Will return to this book later. This book does not speak to me at the moment.
adventurous challenging slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven: A mix
Strong character development: Yes
Loveable characters: Complicated
Diverse cast of characters: Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus: Yes

As I have now read Dune for the first time, I am now prepared to make this novel my personality for the next few weeks.

What is there to say about Dune besides the fact that it is a masterpiece in the twining of a universe of conflict, ideology, and science. It is no wonder that this novel is a master class in the realm of science fiction, defining what we perceive as Sci-Fi today. The genre has come a great distance from the imagination of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, spanning from the idea of the replicated man to the expansive universe of Dune's Bene Gesserits, Arrakian ecology, and detailed tribal and commodified religion. Brian Herbert's introduction to this beautiful edition of Dune preludes the novel with the idea that it could be read many times over with a different focus. This is true, as easily one could see the detail of the climate and ecology. Religion, too, is heavily imprinted into the tone and themes of this novel. Science itself can be examined with the barely-mentioned historical uprising of artificial intelligence (perhaps hinting upon the origin of the genre). The topic of imperialism and its effect upon humanity was the route that I thought that I would take upon my reading of Dune, but that was not in fact the case. Instead, my focus came unto the relationships of Paul and what those relationships say about his character.

In the third book of the novel, The Prophet, and unsettling two years have passed since the reader has glimpsed into the workings of Paul-Muad'dib and the many parasitic forces upon the desert planet Arrakis. This third act of the book strains the reader to accept Paul's love for his concubine, Chani. A relationship built upon a love that the reader seldom is able to see. With this in addition to Paul's dislike towards his mother, the Lady Jessica, it seems hard to believe that he is even capable of such a love, as he was even unable to mourn for his father shortly after his death. I was ready to critique this part of the novel until I saw the truth and point to it. Paul, who was nearly entirely innocent at the beginning of the novel, has slowly been poisoned by the planet Arrakis. While he believes it to be the spice, melange, that traps him and poisons his mind, it is something else entirely: power. As Paul-Muad'dib acquires more and more power upon the planet, he loses his humanity - something the Reverend Mother once gave him. Upon with it, he loses the love and compassion that House Atreides once revered as their greatest asset. It becomes clear how little other people mean to Paul-Muad'dib in the last few pages of the novel, in which he and Lady Jessica assure Chani that she shall be Paul's one true woman. They mock the Princess Irulan for her love of reading, for it will be the one thing that she may have for the rest of her life. Their cruelty towards the woman who in herself has shared her fair share of scorn and unlove is like a stab to the heart, as through the novel it is she who guides the reader through the two years of the becoming of the prophet Muad'dib. In her writings, told through many novels, it was clear the entire time of her admiration towards Paul. It was she who collected his life and his times, and yet her scorn and the cruelty towards her such that Chani may feel some sense of assurance seems as though it was meant for the reader to be assured of the good nature of Paul Muad'dib. Instead, I sensed dread at the man who would so easily toss aside one's life for a shot at power. I understand that in further novels, Frank Herbert was more clear about his own scorn of Paul and berated the ideology that Paul himself was afraid of - the lonely man who has no human friends, but only worshipping creatures around him. However, as I have yet to read any further novels, I cannot be sure on how that plays into my understanding of this novel.


Since I have been listening to it through my reading, I only think it fair to include my interpretations of Hans Zimmer's rendition of the novel through Paul's Dream:

0:00 The light tapping of the keys at the beginning of the piece suggest a tranquility. This is Caladan before Arrakis was given to House Atreides.
0:10 A deep underlay. Arrakis awaits.
0:28 Whispers and a slight violin. Arrakis speaks to Paul. He sees it in his dreams. Chani speaks to him of his home planet. 
1:41 A mournful theme begins. Caladan is left behind.
1:52 Just as soon as the mournful theme begins, the motif of Arrakis is louder. It is the now, and there is no time to mourn.
2:30 The tempo increases. A danger is present that was unthinkable on Caladan. It exists within Arrakis. It is part of Dune. 
3:12 Another instrument enters, its name unknown to me. It is higher pitched and exists above the planet. The Empire interferes with the planet Arrakis. 
4:30 Silence. The desert planet is open to Paul and Lady Jessica with no certainty. Death seems imminent.
4:48 A voice awakens the piece. It is the strongest of the piece so far: the Fremen. It is clear that this is their song; their planet. Paul and Lady Jessica join them. 
4:57 Drums, a instrument that booms deep, suggesting the deepness of the tribe in the desert. This is their song now. 
6:46 The drums continue on their own, although there is no other instrument to accompany it. Everything is gone except for the Fremen. 
 

Expand filter menu Content Warnings
funny reflective medium-paced
adventurous dark mysterious tense medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven: A mix
Strong character development: Yes
Loveable characters: Complicated
Diverse cast of characters: Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus: Yes

CROSS POSTED ON GOODREADS
(Formatting not working, contains spoilers)

House of Leaves has been sitting on my shelf, only periodically peaked into, for no less than six years. I was considerably younger when I bought the book, which makes me thankful that I didn't pick up the book until I had nearly finished my English degree. However, that does not mean that my thoughts and feelings about the book appropriately converge into a tidy analysis or review. Instead, here I leave my thoughts and discombobulated analyses. Consequently these thoughts remain scattered. But perhaps it was always meant to be that way, a true product of the jumble that is House of Leaves.

Perhaps I should begin with what primarily discouraged me from continuing any reading that I had previously started: Johnny Truant. I had purchased House of Leaves purely for the exploration of Will Navidson’s house. Of course, it was off-putting for me to go from intellectual and horrific descriptions of the Navidson house to the constant sex life of Johnny Truant. Although I don’t agree or necessarily appreciate Mr. Truant’s vivid descriptions, I constantly was looking for the why? Why did these scenes exist? Why did Johnny as a character exist? And from that I came to two conclusions, each of which I will elaborate on. 1) House of Leaves tricks you and 2) The story was always about Johnny.

It seems obvious, really, that the book would try to trick you. You don’t stick your hand out in front of a venomous snake and ask “Is it going to bite me?” Instead you ask “When is it going to bite me?” The answer to that is that it will bite you as soon as you fall for the unique form of the book. It is not necessarily the struck out words, the endless footnotes, the blue houses, or the monstrosity that is pages 119 through 145 that offer the most interesting and minute details. Rather, it is the most mundane parts of the book, the stuff hidden in a corner that seems so unimportant that your eyes glaze over it. Or perhaps that is me, mistakenly reading too much into it. Either way, I find it interesting enough to mention these thoughts here. And, really, it is these thoughts and details that encouraged me to keep reading. First is the remark on page 151 regarding Johnny’s state following the publication of The Navidson Record. Hailey writes in to the editors following the release of the first edition. She ends her comment by saying
“[...] I’m sorry to hear he disappeared. Do you know what happened to him?”

This comment is not elaborated upon or answered by the editors. It is not obvious - it hides in the footnotes, although I do suspect that people caught on to this one. We know that Johnny Truant disappears following this release of The Navidson Record. We find later on that Johnny had gone to search for the house on Ash Tree Lane, but only some few hundred pages later.

The second fragment that I picked up on, for one reason or another, were the Birds of Paradise. In both cases, the Birds of Paradise were actually quite inconsequential, although Birds of Paradise were mentioned twice in the novel by two different characters. The first mention of Birds of Paradise was by Johnny, who includes them in a made-up story.
“I mean I wonder that they did, what they said, when they finally tore open all those crates and discovered all those fucking birds. Over fifty Birds of Paradise,” (p. 15).

The second instance of Birds of Paradise was mentioned by Tom, who in dealing with the trauma and the fear produced by the impossibility and endlessness of his loneliness in the house decided to tell jokes. One of which ended as such:
“Yeah when I was in the Navy, I got drunk one night in Singapore and had sex with a Bird of Paradise. I was just wondering if you were my son,” (p. 257).


The question is, why were Birds of Paradise mentioned twice in the book by separate characters? What, exactly, is the importance of that? My conclusion, which I will elaborate upon eventually, is Johnny is connected to the characters in The Navidson Record. Furthering upon this connection is perhaps the fact that Birds of Paradise were referenced by both characters incorrectly. While birds of paradise are actually a family of about 45 different birds, the capitalization of Birds of Paradise suggests that both characters are actually referring to the plant - although they seem unaware - despite the fact that both stories use the phrase to suggest that they are talking about birds. I don’t believe that Johnny made it far enough into The Navidson Record to inadvertently remember Tom’s joke. Rather, perhaps Tom’s mention of the Birds of Paradise was reversely a reflection - an echo, if you will (pages 41-50) - of Johnny’s own story.

Digressing, I instead would like to again focus on the bigger picture. Although I discredited the importance of the form of House of Leaves, I would like to now reaffirm that the most obvious symbols do in fact mean something. Perhaps this even answers the question: what is the house? Throughout the book, one of the most obvious oddities of the text is the insistence of the word “house” being colored blue. I thought nothing much of it, until The Haven-Slocum Theory enlightened readers about the possible reason for Navidson’s return through an examination of three dreams (although only two are accounted for in our version of the novel.) Dream one is what struck me (beginning on page 398) involving a purgatory of sorts that involves both the will to dive and the worthiness of life. In short, if one is worthy of being saved following their dive, they are rescued by a blue light. Perhaps the blue highlighting of “house” throughout the novel suggests that the house on Ash Tree Lane is actually purgatory. Only those willing to dive into the unknown are able to be saved, although those outside are able to wait for as long as they please if they decide not to dive. Holloway, although he took the dive, was unable to be saved. He ended up taking his own life, succumbing to the darkness. Tom, on the other hand, often mentioned as more gentle and caring, alternatively was saved. Although most characters assumed that Tom was dead, there was of course was the impossibility of confirmation. Additionally inconclusive to my own thoughts would be the idea that he was saved, although it hurts not to ponder whether the house existed as its own purgatory.

Finally I arrive once again at Johnny Truant. And, to begin, we must always start at the beginning. The dedication.
“This is not for you.”

Is this simply a jab by Mark Z. Danielsewski as commentary on the intellectual and creative authority over his own work? Or does it suggest something more entwined? I believe that this book is not for you or for me for the same reason that nobody has succumbed to the intense depths that Johnny Truant did. Because this book is not for you or me. This book is for Johnny Truant.

The story of the house on Ash Tree Lane is actually inconsequential to the real story that unfolds during this novel, which is the descent of Johnny Truant into madness. The Navidson Record is not a separate entity, but instead an explanation to everyone of the tugging and the trauma that Johnny endures. Johnny is Navidson. Johnny is Karen. Johnny is Tom, and Daisy, and Chad, and everybody in The Navidson Record. His fascination with the fragmented pieces of Zampanó’s life work is the same desperate need that Navidson experienced in his home. Johnny’s addiction to sex, drugs, alcohol, and dependence on Thumper were embodied by Karen and her dependence on Navidson. Johnny’s scarred arms were briefly reflected in the scratches and scarring on Daisy’s arms. Johnny’s hardheadedness and temperamental attitude were part of Chad (this one is easy to see, as Johnny sees it himself and comments upon it.) That is why both Johnny and Tom make the same mistake in assuming that a Bird of Paradise is a bird instead of a plant - Tom and every other character in The Navidson Record were echoes of the spiraling of Johnny Truant into madness.

There are so many more unbaked thoughts about this book swirling in my head. Who was Zampanó after all? And what does the ending for the Navidson family suggest for Johnny Truant? Who is Lude and who is Thumper? And even through that, we must also ask if Johnny is a reliable narrator. He’s been known to lie about many of his stories - who is to say that he didn’t lie about this one?

I originally gave this book four stars because of how it sometimes feels like you have to really slog through the material. (I do feel guilty about this, considering that that seems to be the point of the long, drawn out “narrative.”) But years later, I still think about this book, and I don't think that, for me, it could be less than five stars anymore. House of Leaves is more than a book — it’s an experience. I sometimes find my mind wandering to the halls of the house on Ash Tree Lane. This book isn’t for everyone, but I definitely suggest it to those who are willing to put in the mental lifting required for a meaningful read-through.