Lucas Blogs About The Haunting of Hill House

That's neat house mask.

So, you've finally read The Haunting of Hill House, eh? Jumping on the Netflix bandwagon?

No, but I do plan to watch the show, I have an idea for a new feature. Also, trend-surfing and what not.

Okay, so, what's this book's deal?

So, The Haunting of Hill House is a well-known (and oft-adapted) 1959 horror novel by Shirley Jackson. If you've ever attended a public high school in America, you may be familiar with her short story "The Lottery." In any case, Triple H–

Hold up, we are not abbreviating this as "Triple H."

Fine, this novel begins with Doctor John Montague, an anthropologist who longs to make para-normal research into a valid and respected area of academic inquiry. To that end, he has rented Hill House, a famously haunted victorian mansion that was built by a man named Hugh Crain, and has invited three people to participate in his study (well, the three people who have actually showed up): Eleanor Vance, a thirty-something introvert who until recently was the sole caretaker of her chronically ill mother, Theodora, a free-spirited bohemian type who eschews the use of a surname, and Luke Sanderson, the nephew of Hill House's current owner who insisted that a family member be present during the summer, and well, Luke'll do. Over the course of the book, the characters experience any number of strange and possibly psychic phenomena, but by the end, a reader can't help but wonder if the real haunting of Hill House hadn't been inside them the whole time.

If I had eyes, I'd be rolling them right now.

Wait, without eyes how can you have read any books?

We've been over this, it's best not to drawn attention to the nature of my reality.

Gotcha. Well, let's just say that the novel is ambiguous about what exactly is going on at Hill House. It is clear that some sort of paranormal phenomenon is occurring. However, that's not really the focus.

So what's causing it?

It's not a mystery, there isn't a like a scene where Luke tears the ghost's face off and it's actually Dudley the creepy groundskeeper.

Wait, there's a creepy groundskeeper?

Yes, and he's married to the house's caretaker.

And there isn't some Scooby-Doo-esque reveal that the haunting is actually something they're doing to obtain the valuable real estate?

No! Look, let's talk about the book some more. While the first few chapters and the last one aren't from any particular character's point-of-view, most of the novel is narrated in the third-person subjective, focusing primarily on Eleanor's viewpoint.

Oooh! Is she just imagining the whole thing?

I said that it's not a mystery, okay? We've established the book's supernatural elements are ambiguous, right? Let's just say that the most likely explanations for what's happening in the book is that there is some sort of entity haunting the house which, for some reason, Eleanor is especially sensitive or receptive to or that Eleanor has some kind of psychic abilities which manifest as a haunting. But both of these explanations are beside the point.

Huh?

The book isn't particularly scary.

So it's a bad horror novel?

No, I mean to say that the book is more unsettling than frightening. Even though Eleanor is the central character there's always a sort of distance between her and the reader. I wouldn't necessarily say that she's unsympathetic, but Jackson doesn't take any pains to conceal her faults. One of the most telling instances of which comes in an early chapter when Eleanor identifies with a spoiled child at a roadside diner.  As the book progresses, it becomes clear that her isolation while caring for her mother has left her in a state of arrested development. While her initial interactions with Montague, Luke, and Theodora seem quite successful, she also begins casually lying about herself. Over time her quick attachment to the others is cast as unhealthy and obsessive. Whatever's going on at Hill House, it isn't good for Eleanor. She isn't physically harmed, but she does black out more than once, and soon messages addressed to her begin appearing on the wall (first in chalk and later either red paint or blood). For all the ruckus the ghosts(?) make at night, they certainly seem solicitous of Eleanor during the day.

So, would you say that the novel is a character study?

That would be a fair description. Eleanor's development is certainly more important than anything else in the novel. And if you've read anything by Shirley Jackson, you know that she doesn't waste time on anything she doesn't consider important.

Supposing I hadn't read anything by Shirley Jackson, would elaborate on that?

Well, her prose is pretty lean and mean. She doesn't weigh sentences down with unnecessary verbiage and conveys action and emotion in a clean, easy to read style without ever falling into the trap of being overly simplistic.

So, like, the opposite of that description?

Well, you don't have to be rude about it.

So, you said you're going to write a new feature based on this?

Well, after I watch the Netflix show, I think I'd like to write something kind of like Oddaptations, but I don't know if the show is different enough to just do Oddaptations or if I'll have to come up with a new feature.

Well, so long as you aren't thinking of naming it something corny like Badaptations or Goodaptations.

Actually, I was thinking something corny like "Trend-surf Advisory."

Hmm, I'm not really sold on it.  Do you recommend reading The Haunting of Hill House?

Sure, while I'd hesitate to call it a fun read, it's pretty short and Jackson is a talented writer. So, yeah, go ahead and read it.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson, Penguin Books trade paperback edition, 2018 (originally published 1959), 233 pages, pairs well with brown liquor and a game of chess in the parlor

Links:

Several of Jackson's books are available from Penguin! Here's a link to their page about her, if you're into that kinda thing.

So, the book hasn't just been adapted as a Netflix series, but also as a three-act play, a BBC radio drama, and two movies called The Haunting.