http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HKCSGQVFhek
I like this video because it puts a picture to the state of Zampano's apartment when Johnny and Lude first find the journal. I also like the shots of the hallways and how it previews the tension between Navidson and Karen. I also like anything involving Milla Jovovich. However there is a lot of meaningless space in here proving that just as in some of the footnotes, most of it may be worthless but there may be something in there worth reading. And I do not appreciate the shameful ripping off of Resident Evil footage. For shame youtubers!
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Character Sketch
My first passage comes from pg. 37. "He (Reston) is a gruff man, frequently caustic and more like a drill sergeant than a tenured professor." He is a paraplegic as well. Navidson and Reston met in India and he took a picture of Reston running from an electrical wire. Here then is our first glimpse of Reston and it is a fair one. He first sends the brothers Navidson to the house armed with a laser leveler. Which of course doesn't work. Then he shows up himself. Instead of allowing himself to be carried into the house, this proud man says "That won't be necessary." And makes it onto the second floor of the house by his arm strength alone. (pg. 55) In fact, we see a bit of a sense of humor about his impediment as well. When Tom says "Too bad you forgot your chair," Reston laughs and says "Well, and fuck you." We see a gruff and serious man, but with a sense of humor and a calm acceptance of his lot in life. This is not the last time we see a softer side of Reston. SPOILERS!!! If you haven't read to 321 DO NOT CONTINUE!!! After Navidson is lost during the shift at the spiral staircase Reston remains at the radios trying to get in touch with Nav even after 5 days. (Pg. 321) He even communicates his hope. When Tom says That Navy's been gone over four days Reston says "There's still a chance."
So we have a gruff character who takes no nonsense but still can have a sense of humor over the bad hand that life dealt him, as well as a sincere devotion to his friends and willing to grab at a shred of hope, even if it's as faint as the light of a flashbulb in the deep darkness of the House.
So we have a gruff character who takes no nonsense but still can have a sense of humor over the bad hand that life dealt him, as well as a sincere devotion to his friends and willing to grab at a shred of hope, even if it's as faint as the light of a flashbulb in the deep darkness of the House.
When a House is not a House
I think the house is a metaphor for our psyche. We have the side of ourselves we present to the outside world. It is respectable, it looks reconizable for what it is because we strive to be like everyone else with a few differences on the outside. We have windows to the interior but even then in front of the windows we arrange things with the skill of a master landscaper. However through the door, and in the rooms that you can't see, something much darker may lurk.
Our long hallways can be our flaws. They may condense sometimes and be nothing more than momentary shifts into darkness. Anger can be a small blowup inside our own head, or a murderous rage from which nothing (no one) is safe. We all have minor insecurities and deeper damage that we hide in darkness impenetrable so no one else may see it.
Finally we come to our markers. Some of us blessed with self-knowledge know where we are deficient. So we place markers so we can understand where the darkness makes a habit of getting the best of us. However at times our markers become mangled and our flaws swallow what used to mark them and we succumb to our darkness. Still other times greater flaws lurk in the darkness ones which we do not know about and therefore fail to mark. The ever present growl of worse things than darkness and cold.
Our long hallways can be our flaws. They may condense sometimes and be nothing more than momentary shifts into darkness. Anger can be a small blowup inside our own head, or a murderous rage from which nothing (no one) is safe. We all have minor insecurities and deeper damage that we hide in darkness impenetrable so no one else may see it.
Finally we come to our markers. Some of us blessed with self-knowledge know where we are deficient. So we place markers so we can understand where the darkness makes a habit of getting the best of us. However at times our markers become mangled and our flaws swallow what used to mark them and we succumb to our darkness. Still other times greater flaws lurk in the darkness ones which we do not know about and therefore fail to mark. The ever present growl of worse things than darkness and cold.
SKIP IT
While reading this book Jaime did not skip much. He did, however, skip the footnotes that just seemed to rattle off names and titles and lists of things that one would find in any normal house. He figured that these didn't have much to do with either story and therefore while cursorily looking at the words he allowed his mind to freely wander into whatever fantasy crossed his mind.
He enjoyed reading this book alot. He found himself taking it everywhere. He read it at work during lunch. He read it during other classes (sorry to Dr. Hurst, Prof. Valcin, and Dr. Boyenne)He even took it with him on a few porcelain cruises. He enjoyed the twisting and turning the words forced him into. He relished the chance to confront some of his own darkness in thinking about the unfathombably night of the book.
The one thing he did not enjoy, however, was the book's propensity to inflict Truant-like symptoms on those who read it. He found himself creeped by sounds in his basement that he's heard for years. The warming of pipes took on a definate growling tone, the darkness seemed less friendly and even on a layout he's known for years once he found himself lost until he stubbed his toe on a doorframe. In Truant's words "FUCK. FUCK. FUCK." He also noticed that while reading this book on public transportation time seemed to shift. Seconds elongated into minutes and minutes condensed to seconds and he missed stops on the train as the yawning darkness ate moments like morsels. As off-putting as that was he still enjoyed reading this book. He looks forward to the end eagerly peering into the darkness of the unknown.
He enjoyed reading this book alot. He found himself taking it everywhere. He read it at work during lunch. He read it during other classes (sorry to Dr. Hurst, Prof. Valcin, and Dr. Boyenne)He even took it with him on a few porcelain cruises. He enjoyed the twisting and turning the words forced him into. He relished the chance to confront some of his own darkness in thinking about the unfathombably night of the book.
The one thing he did not enjoy, however, was the book's propensity to inflict Truant-like symptoms on those who read it. He found himself creeped by sounds in his basement that he's heard for years. The warming of pipes took on a definate growling tone, the darkness seemed less friendly and even on a layout he's known for years once he found himself lost until he stubbed his toe on a doorframe. In Truant's words "FUCK. FUCK. FUCK." He also noticed that while reading this book on public transportation time seemed to shift. Seconds elongated into minutes and minutes condensed to seconds and he missed stops on the train as the yawning darkness ate moments like morsels. As off-putting as that was he still enjoyed reading this book. He looks forward to the end eagerly peering into the darkness of the unknown.
Finding my way out again
I am forced to conclude that everything in this book is specifically and purposefully designed to create hopelessness (read: empty of all hope.) It creates a path so convoluted that you are lost in a maze of words, ideas, and images so dark that you are swallowed by it. And when it shifts to show you a shred of light, it shifts again to steal that light (meaning) away from you again. In short, this is no light (oh the puns) bedtime reading.
So the theme of this blog: What's the last word for this half of House of Leaves? In all the references to darkness (emptiness) in both The Navidson Record and Johnny Truant's infinitely more lyrical (entertaining) footnote stories we find two men trying to balance the darkness without (the house, Navidson and Karen's dwindling relationship, Truant's one night stands and drug experiences) with the darkness within (Navidson's complete obsession with fame and danger i.e. the House within the house, and Truant's need for one night stands and drug use.) Both men skate around the real and instead confront puzzles with no answers. If there are answers they must come from the darkness within both men. I think the most moving part of this book is when Zampano writes about standing outside or inside the labyrinth. Do we understand the maze? Or are we feeling our way blindly through it? I think both men are completely unnerved by their shift in perspective. One minute they comprehend and the next they question.
So the theme of this blog: What's the last word for this half of House of Leaves? In all the references to darkness (emptiness) in both The Navidson Record and Johnny Truant's infinitely more lyrical (entertaining) footnote stories we find two men trying to balance the darkness without (the house, Navidson and Karen's dwindling relationship, Truant's one night stands and drug experiences) with the darkness within (Navidson's complete obsession with fame and danger i.e. the House within the house, and Truant's need for one night stands and drug use.) Both men skate around the real and instead confront puzzles with no answers. If there are answers they must come from the darkness within both men. I think the most moving part of this book is when Zampano writes about standing outside or inside the labyrinth. Do we understand the maze? Or are we feeling our way blindly through it? I think both men are completely unnerved by their shift in perspective. One minute they comprehend and the next they question.
Lost in the Labyrinth
Let's get the obvious out of the way first; this book is a labyrinth. It has us twisting and turning and in the opening tells us that what we see is not, cannot be real. Formed in words of black ink, our own minute, unfathomable darknesses. We find metaphors of darkness (read: emptiness) everywhere. What it comes down to is, I can't read this book for more than an hour and a half without my head pounding at me to stop.
and for
The weird part is now I'm imagining noises in my basement when the lights are off. So, the nature of the labyrinth is complex; is the labyrinth internal (our own psyche) or external (vis a vis the book, the house, the made up movie and sources etc.)? What's more, even if it is internal are we standing outside it (because we know why we act the way we do) and therefore understand our maze? Or inside it (because even we,at the best of times, don't understand all of why we do what we do) hence we don't know where we're going? (Read: headache)
and for
The weird part is now I'm imagining noises in my basement when the lights are off. So, the nature of the labyrinth is complex; is the labyrinth internal (our own psyche) or external (vis a vis the book, the house, the made up movie and sources etc.)? What's more, even if it is internal are we standing outside it (because we know why we act the way we do) and therefore understand our maze? Or inside it (because even we,at the best of times, don't understand all of why we do what we do) hence we don't know where we're going? (Read: headache)
Bomb(ed)ing
I will never look at graffiti the same way again. After learning about the history of Cornbread I find myself wondering about who C-loc, Lady86, Sam, and Terra are. I have this lovely alley way behind the local Stop and Shop and it's a veritable mural of names and I want to find out about these people. I wonder about their stories. Why are they doing this? If they're doing it for someone, who are they doing it for? Is their purpose noble or is it nothing but the most basic arrogance? Does putting your name on something make it yours? If it does, I'm going to get me a Ferrari REAL quick.
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