House Share of Leaves

Started reading House of Leaves last night. Well, started from were I got to in the Amazon preview before it inexplicably jumped forward about 9 chapters, rendering the whole point...well, pointless. God damn Amazon not giving free books away. Who do they think they are? I must say that it's a good read though, if a little unorthodox in the layout department. There are about three different narratives going on at once, two of which take place solely in the footnotes of this report about a guy who's house seems to be bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. It's pretty fucked up, and the page layouts are all over the place – sometimes the footnotes start mid-paragraph in one narative and then you have to read that (and the following pages) before going back to the original passage you were reading. Sounds pretty confusing, and it is to be fair, but if you're used to reading several books concurrently (which is also what I'm doing now, the other two being Shadow's Edge by Brent Weeks and The A303: Highway to the Sun by Tom Fort), then it's fairly easy to get your head around. I started reading at around 8pm last night and was still going well past midnight, so that kinda gives an indication of how easy it is to get carried away by this story (stories?).

The multiple narrative thing isn't the only slightly unusual aspect of  House of Leaves' design. The way the text is actually presented on some (most) of the pages is really weird - sometimes it's in red and struck through, other times there are just a few words on the page. Some of the pages have the text arranged in bizarre ways, like all lop-sided or just in one corner - I've honestly never read anything like it, and I'm guessing that as the layouts get more muddled the further you read, it must be some kind of mechanic used to illustrate madness or something? I don't know, but it looks freaking cool. Any fucker tries to read this badboy over my shoulder on the train and they'll probably vomit. Which is nice.

Apparently, there are two versions of the book - one in full colour, and one in greyscale. I've got the full colour version (complete with white crease down the black front cover - see the last post), and this is important (apparently) because the word 'house' always appears in blue type, as I've illustrated for your delight, dear reader; while other words appear in red, or red with a strikethrough. But the strikethrough is black. Which I can't illustrate because Blogger just don't do that fancy highfalutin shit. I don't know why yet (in the book, I mean), but I'm sure it'll be revealed. Or not. It's certainly trippy literature. Litripture. And just like that, I add another word to the English language. Maybe Lonely Planet would like to offer me a wad of cash for that one? Email me, guys.

I can see now, just flicking through the various chapters why this book could probably never be reproduced for Kindle (other e-readers are available) - I doubt it'd be able to handle the retarded (inspired) page layouts. Well, the normal black and white e-paper version couldn't, anyway. I mean, look at this shit:

is this a copyright infringement?!

That's not to say I'm not enjoying it - I wouldn't have been up till stupid o'clock this morning if I wasn't. I think it's a totally refreshing and completely unique book and I'm just stunned I'd never heard of it before last weekend. A true literary oddity, is House of Leaves. Or House of Leaves, as it should be typed.

Been torturing myself by looking at flats to rent in Manchester. It seems like such a stupid/petty dream to have, but I've never actually had my own place - I mean totally to myself. Since I left University, I've lived exclusively in either house shares or military accommodation. And these have meant that I have lived exclusively in a single room for the majority of my adult life (with the odd 2/4/16/32 man mess or dilapidated barrack thrown in). One room or locker with all my shit stuffed into it. 

So you can see why the very thought of having a kitchen or a separate living room fills me with the kind of excitement usually reserved for that point where you reach the zenith of a roller coaster's climb, teeter precariously for a microsecond and then plunge back earthward. Just the thought of having my stuff in separate rooms. A bookshelf. A fridge with stuff in it that I know won't go missing. Somewhere to put a desktop computer (it'll probably be a used Powermac G5 - oh yes). A desk. A couch! Fuck me, a couch. Personal space to do what I want, without someone else also being there. Without someone else leaving shit all over the toilet bowl, slamming doors at midnight, ploughing their boyfriend/girlfriend in the next room, just being there all the fucking time. My own place to have some relaxing time in, but also the freedom to invite people round whenever I want without the fear of a housemate or live-in landlord coming back and ruining it. Sigh. I'm babbling again. Some time soon(ish) though. And guess what? I'll be sharing it all here! Lucky reader(s?)!