The Haunting of Hill House Review

When I first started reading this piece, it seemed older than it is. Published in 1959, the language and even the characters seem like those of the previous century. One negative aspect, which may be my own needs as a reader, is the slow pace of the piece. Making comparisons to King’s Rose Red was far too easy.

In a much broader understanding of the haunted house subgenre of horror, Jackson pays more attention to character. Eleanor, has a bit of social awkwardness to her at the beginning, almost as if she could not do anything for herself. But, he development after her interactions with the free-spirited, care-free, Theodora. Eleanor and Theodora relationship is a rather start contrast to those of Luke and Dr. Montague.

Where Eleanor and Theodora share a close bond, that cannot be said for Luke and the good, but uptight and haughty Doctor. The static relationship between most of the characters could pose a difficulty to most younger readers. Dr. Montague ties to hold onto his skepticism, as do all of them. However, when it comes to horror literature, the one with what seems the strongest will, is the first to break.

I found myself liking Theodora more than I thought. Granted she isn’t as complex, or developed as Eleanor, her simplicity is what I found to be an endearing trait. Luke on the other hand was atypical and in one aspect, he’s just fodder or a placeholder. Theodora, in some sense is the archetype for most ghost fiction characters. He skepticism isn’t as forward as her male counterparts, but she has survival mechanisms in place when Hill House starts to awaken, she finds strength in Eleanor.

Again, the Victorian feel of the novel is something I cannot get over. The more I ruminated over this, the more it made sense. A large clue to this was Hill House itself. In Victorian literature, women with wealth were looked down upon for lack of a husband. Usually there is a conflict over heirlooms and the homestead in general, and jealousy seems to be the root cause. The elder sister’s freedom was highly sought and coveted by the youngest sister. This animosity may have been what lead to the Elder sister’s demise. And the way most hauntings go, this left an imprint on Hill House.

Speaking of Hill House. There is very little in the way of description, but the mind begins to work on building it. The vague, if barely-there, description does nothing if let the readers mind run wild. The wooden interior certainly gives Hill House and rather morbid appeal, like being in the bowels of a beat in the process of reawakening from a deep slumber. The house had a presence all its own. Numerous times it was noted that it was watching. The cold spots, the phantom noises. I would even go so far to say that the goal of the stay was overshadowed, if not forgotten at times. Given the environment, that goes without saying.

The very nature of Hill House seems to be that of isolation, not just solitude. The fact the caretakers dare not stay there after dusk, serves as a warning. One scene deserves note. This may have been my interpretation of the scene in the parlor when each guest sees something different. The back and forth is confusing, but afterward it works on the mind. The manifestation of the haunting isn’t always loud and cold. This is where the parallel to Rose Red comes into play.

At what point does a house go from haunted to being almost alive and hellbent on being left alone?  The phantom sounds the changing furniture, the phantom dogs? That is certainly up for debate.

However, the ultimate question I wanted to try to answer is what makes this novel an effective ghost piece? The moving parts, like characters and furniture are certainly what make it function. But, there’s something in the pages (and the house) that cannot be moved. Or will not. Perhaps the most effective element in this piece was the history. And to extent, the very act of going in there. Hill House is a microcosm of stagnancy, going nowhere fast. Perpetual, internal malice towards oneself, perhaps?