The story itself is a solid 4/5, but the way it's written—especially how the pages are laid out—exceeds 5 stars. This book takes creative writing to another level, and I applaud its ability to not only drag me through chaos but also surprise me with how intentional every detail is. I loved how the layout of the pages reflected the characters' mental and physical states, making the reading experience even more immersive.

If you're looking for a book that sends you down a rabbit hole for answers long after you've finished, this is it.

At its core, House of Leaves follows a young man named Johnny Truant, who discovers a manuscript written by a blind man named Zampanò. The manuscript analyzes a documentary called The Navidson Record, which follows a family who moves into a house that defies logic—the inside is larger than the outside, and endless, shifting hallways appear. As Johnny becomes obsessed with the manuscript, his own life spirals into madness, blurring the lines between reality and fiction.

As much as I admired the book’s ambition, there were moments where the narrator’s rambling became overwhelming. At times, it felt more distracting than immersive, pulling me away from the main story rather than adding depth. That said, it did reinforce how much Johnny was unraveling, which fits the book’s themes.

The footnotes, while an interesting touch that added to the book’s "academic analysis" feel, were hit-or-miss for me. Some enhanced the experience, but others felt unnecessary and slowed down the pacing.

At its core, this is a simple story told in an incredibly unique way. There are still a lot of unanswered questions by the end, but I think that’s part of its appeal—it builds a community of readers eager to piece things together long after the last page. The book is dark, suspenseful, and unsettling without being outright terrifying, and despite its complexity, I had a great time navigating its unconventional format.

What a fascinating read.