In a college English class, I was assigned to read House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski. House of Leaves is . . . different. It’s one of the most unique books that I’ve ever read. I say that in both a good way and a bad way. It’s certainly an acquired taste. Although I eventually enjoyed reading it, I’m certain that not everyone would.
Essentially, House of Leaves is a book about a guy reading a research paper about a documentary about a house. These different sections are displayed by different fonts within the book. And there are lots of footnotes, including footnotes within footnotes. Craziest of all is the text layout, which shifts from time to time.
As I learned in this English class, House of Leaves is a well-known example of ergodic literature. This type of literature takes into account the reader's experience of reading the piece. The creator of the story crafts not only the words but also how they’re displayed and ingested by the reader to form a more complete reading experience.
And that’s exactly what happens in House of Leaves. When you’re flipping pages back and forth between footnotes, it’s like you’re lost in the house, like the characters are at the time. At one point, the characters descend a giant spiral staircase. As you read this, the text on the page rotates in a spiral, forcing you to rotate the book as you read. In another scene, a character is running faster and faster. As he does so, there are fewer and fewer words on each page—causing you to flip the pages faster and faster, mirroring his actions.
Another interesting thing about House of Cards is that every time the word ‘house’ is used, it’s printed in blue ink. No other word is printed in blue ink. This is a little reminiscent of internet links, which are usually blue. This brings to mind the idea that the house links different parts of the narrative.
Ergodic literature is very experimental and postmodernist. In my English paper on House of Leaves, I described the book as “the literary equivalent of LSD.” My professor circled that sentence and wrote a note of affirmation. This is the kind of stuff that messes with your head.
Mark Z. Danielewski wrote another book called Only Revolutions. It’s about two characters who are gradually coming towards each other. But the book is broken into two stories—one printed on one side of each page, the other on the other. You read one story at a time from either the mirrored front or back covers.
I bought Only Revolutions a few years ago, and it’s been sitting on a shelf since then. I haven’t had the courage to tackle it yet. Ergodic literature is not for the faint of heart. Only the strongest, craziest readers can take on literary LSD.