If I could chose any world to vacation in, it would be the one where one Hugh Crain built house stands “some distance from any town” and was built in a lonely, isolated spot.
Some have said Hugh Crain’s house is foul, it holds darkness within, that as sensible as it may pretend to be, it is not sane.
Hill House has killed, it dreams, it is haunted.
I would love to spend a week there. I would like to spend time in the Library where Abigail’s caregiver hung herself from the spiral staircase. I would love to spend time reading the books that someone like Hugh Crain- the father of this house, would want to save and read when winter set in or a lightening storm raged outside.
I can see him doing that, can you?
I know that the dining room is inviting but it’s hard to find and that people get lost in Hill House when they travel from room to room. They can go in one door and find themselves on the roof or stumbling down the driveway in the dark.
There’s a dog, I’ve heard that roams the halls and the grounds. Maybe I could make friends with it.
Maybe I’d want to stay there for longer then a week for a vacation.
Maybe.
“Am I walking toward something I should be running away from?”
― Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House
“To learn what we fear is to learn who we are. Horror defies our boundaries and illuminates our souls.”
― Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House
“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.”
― Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House
