When Is a House Not a House

As I had mentioned in an earlier post, I had seen the house as a rather drab metaphor for the unknown, the fear of the future, you have to adapt to your surroundings as they shift around you. The house tends to bring out everyone's insecurities, whether its is Karen's claustrophobia, Reston needing to have a gun to cope with labyrinth being too much to handle without some sort of killing tool. It even brings out the insecurities of Karen with her relationship with Will.

I find that the house's constant shifting is also a take on the permanence of certain things throughout the novel. The ability of a relationship to fall to shambles, the fragility of human life, the fragility of the human psyche. I know that if I was in this house, while I would be intrigued to explore it, I would be entirely frustrated by its constant shifting, endless stairwells and corridors. It never allows anyone to see what the the truth is behind the house is, what the intention is. That begs the question, what is the intention of this novel, who's story are we really hearing, is it the Navidson's story, is it Johnny's story, or is it the story of the human race?

What I found most depressing about the House was why it was purchased. It was purchased so Karen and Will could raise a family and be close to another, Will would get away from his strangling job. Unfortunately Will spends most of his time wandering and exploring the house with his brother and comrades while Karen tries to avoid the house thus inadvertently avoiding Will. It becomes another catalyst for their relationship to fail.