From the cult-favorite feminist author of The Princess of 72nd Street, a classic novel about a captive woman who must use unorthodox methods to reclaim her fractured mind
The dimensions of this house have already shaped your response. Did you think you could hide forever from the violence inside you?
This fever dream of a novel features a protagonist who shares the same name as its author. Elaine first entered the house as moral support for her friend and fellow schoolteacher, Florence, but now there are no exits in sight. All the inexplicable residents of the space—Florence’s beguiling brother, her inattentive lover, distant mother, wizard father, and even her and Elaine’s school principal—are under the control of the mysterious Madelaine. Elaine knows that Madelaine is out to get her, she just doesn’t know who is colluding with Madelaine as she forces Elaine to commit harmful, evil tasks. As Elaine attempts to regain agency, she begins to remember glimpses from her painful past with her gynecologist husband, causing her to question exactly who and what is binding her in place.
The House of Madelaine reveals the frenzied mind of a broken poet trying to put herself together again. As Elaine reckons with countless uncanny challenges all taking place under one roof, she begins to rediscover who she truly is.
File this one under “books that feel like an acid trip.” Elaine arrives at a mysterious house with her friend. It’s filled with unusual characters and ruled by their dark leader, Madeleine. As Elaine draws deeper into the house, she learns even more of its secrets. I can’t explain it in more detail than that because this is a plot that needs to be experienced via the author’s incredible prose. If I summarize it, you guys will just be like “what are you even talking about?”
I absolutely loved this bizarre, twisted story. It’s one of those books I’m still thinking about weeks after I finished reading it. I think this one will appeal to Mona Awad fans! It has the same “is this really happening?” energy as Rouge.
A fascinating exploration from the inside of madness. Confusing, disturbing, and at times painfully true, this book is a fevered journey through what happens when dream logic picks up your life and shakes all the bits inside.
Rough, complexed and mysterious. All of that intertwined through a liberating story of Elaine, who tries to deal with her past sexual trauma. Important read for anyone who says: “they asked for it” or “they are the problem, they were dressed too luring” or just that “men can do anything to women as long as they are their husbands” to see how strongly sexual trauma hits every victim.
I imagine Elaine Kraf wrote The House of Madelaine while channeling Alice in Wonderland, drinking hallucinogenic tea, and then painting her rough draft under hot theatrical lights. The novel feels completely unhinged — reality dissolving, identity splintering, everything heightened to the point of artifice. Pure literary nonsense.
It’s Alice as Elaine, falling down the house’s central hallway in a recurring dream of Formica tables, pansies, grapefruit, and green ink — all of it culminating in a trial for authorship and murder.
“I will always be on trial because I cannot see by ordinary light. I would like to paint the world differently and call things by new names.”
“Today is the trial of dead flowers, the trial of light, the dead who live. Today is the trial of lies—all words are lies.”
I adored the meta-textual exchanges and inclusion of poetry and seemingly random musical notation throughout Elaine’s unraveling.
“Words are refuse—a collage of floral embroidery. There is no character analysis or plot.”
Kraf writes like she is setting velvet on fire. Interior surrealism fused with theatrical, almost camp sensibility. The prose performs. It shimmers. It collapses in on itself. Elaine’s elusive, witchy, husky-voiced controller, Madelaine, isn’t merely a character; she’s a mask, a psychological breakdown rendered as prismatic monologue.
“I am the soul’s death, the power that turns clocks, causes the stars to form certain constellations—“
“And I awoke with the feeling that my life was ending. But Madelaine is still here, I reassured myself with a mixture of fear and relief. I have only to summon her.
This book is pure psychological pageantry. I recommend for fans of Angela Carter, Mona Awad and Leonora Carrington.
“Fear and the timerock of one pumping heart. I am naked.”
I’m gardening🥦 and I can’t get enough of this book. I’m getting like echoes of the 60s beat poets and like acid trip philosophy but (hopefully?) modern satire that definitely would have resonated with people close to people who write the way Kraf has contemporarily but not in the lit until the past 5-10 years as unreliable/unhinged good for her protagonists but from the 70s (or a decade after the authenticity so like making fun of 2013-2016 today? I guess that’s what’s up so take with a grain of salt).
Anyway, my orzo is ready so I’m going to keep listening.
I really love Kraf's writing and I loved especially how this book weaves themes of madness, feminism, eroticism, etc (also Elaine/MadELAINE hmmm), felt like such a fever dream and I am absolutely obsessed! I can't wait to read her other books. It kind of feels like women's liberation david lynch idk
the way Kraf writes and strings words together is so unique, I am going to read everything she has written because I have fallen in love with her wacky antics and storytelling.