“No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.” (page 1) Thus begins The Haunting of Hill House, which Stephen King would later hale as ‘one of the finest horror novels in the late 20th century” in his book, Danse Macabre. With this first line the reader is invited into a truly mad tale chock-full of nightmares, twists and turns and plenty of things that go bump in the night.
In its essence, Hill House is a classic Haunted House story. One of the originals, in fact. Unseen specters surreptitiously tapping on doorframes, a cold spot hovering in the library doorway, doors which shut on their own. All of these elements lull the reader into a false sense of security. What more can Jackson throw at you, after all? She seems to have run the gamut. Unbeknownst to the reader, The Haunting of Hill House is much more than your run-of-the-mill Haunted House account. It is a novel that explores sanity and insanity. It asks whether we create our own nightmares, or something creates them for us.
“Journey’s end in lover’s meetings.” Eleanor Vance repeats this to herself on the long, winding, secluded road to Hill House. Her dreams are swiftly dashed as she gazes upon the edifice. “The house was vile. . . Hill House is vile, it is diseased.” (page 33) she thought. She is not comforted as the eerie housekeeper, Mrs. Dudley, repeats her farewell. “ ‘So there won’t be anyone around if you need help. . . We couldn’t even here you, in the night. . .In the night,’ Mrs. Dudley said, and smiled outright. ‘in the dark.’”
Eleanor is joined by her three other housemates, among them, a Dr. Montague, who has invited them all to Hill House to collect evidence of the occult. They are instant friends, braving the old mansion with good humor, and Eleanor begins to suspect that her earlier mantra may become a reality. Even the nightly hauntings seem to bring the quartet closer together. They exist in relative harmony (or as much harmony as can be found in the mansion) until the house singles one of them out. And begins to take Eleanor as its own.
Shirley Jackson is a master of storytelling. She utilizes a stream of consciousness while writing from the point of view of one of the most unreliable narrators of any book I’ve ever read (except for those in other Shirley Jackson stories). What’s unique about Jackson’s storytelling is that it depicts an alarming shift from an introverted, sane (if not a bit guilt-ridden) protagonist to one whose sanity should certainly be questioned. What’s more, the reader begins to doubt his or her own sanity. Is this character, which we once understood, really the slightly mad, even lunatic, persona that we see now? And what does that say about us? Could we slip into madness just as easily? And finally, it asks whether madness is ingrained in our psyche, or if it can be a product of environment.

This book was one of my first forays into the horror genre (with the exception of Frankenstein, which isn’t exactly brimming with jump scares, and We Have Always Lived in the Castle which is more weird than scary). That being said, this is a great book for a first time horror reader. It is a great representation of the classis haunted house story, but the plot goes a bit deeper. I think that’s why it’s a classic. Any fan of Shirley Jackson should read this book (if you haven’t already). Certainly if you are attracted to macabre or Gothic fiction or a fan of Poe or Stevenson, read this book. It is sinister, poetic, eerie, quotable, unexpected and a little off-kilter which is everything a great story should be.