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Sick Houses: Haunted Homes and the Architecture of Dread
Explores the architecture of haunted houses, uncanny domestic spaces, and how the horror genre subverts and corrupts the sanctity of home.
Horror begins at home.
From family homes in Amityville to Gothic mansions in Los Angeles and the Unabomber's cabin, houses often capture and contain the horror that has happened within them.
Sick Houses crosses the threshold of these eerie spaces to explore how different types of architecture become vessels for terror and how these spaces, meant to shelter us, instead become the source of our deepest fears. Using film, television, and literature to explain why we are drawn to haunted and haunting places, Sick Houses is a must read for anyone who has ever looked at a house and sensed there might be something unsettling going on inside.
Horror begins at home.
From family homes in Amityville to Gothic mansions in Los Angeles and the Unabomber's cabin, houses often capture and contain the horror that has happened within them.
Sick Houses crosses the threshold of these eerie spaces to explore how different types of architecture become vessels for terror and how these spaces, meant to shelter us, instead become the source of our deepest fears. Using film, television, and literature to explain why we are drawn to haunted and haunting places, Sick Houses is a must read for anyone who has ever looked at a house and sensed there might be something unsettling going on inside.
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First published February 11, 2025
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 112 reviews
February 1, 2025
My thanks to Repeater Books, Leila Taylor and Netgalley.
This was not a bad book, by any means.
What it was is something unexpected. What? The unexpected content was mostly about....fucking movies or television.
I scooped this arc up because of its supposed content.
You could supply me with 2 shitstones to rub together, and still? Nothing.
If, like me you have lived in multiple dwellings or even a singular dwelling with "ghosts, spirits" whatever... Kick this book to the curb.
In truth? I was looking for validation. Stupid of course.
What angered me quite a bit about this book and it's advertising is that it was and is affective. But, its all a lie.
I believe in ghosts. I didn't, until the day that I did.
If you want a rehash of books, movies or television ghosts, then here ya' be!
This book is pretty much that.
This author took a topic that was and is endlessly fascinating and bored me near to death.
Seriously, I'm damned near gasping and wheezing for breath!
Also, hauntings? Yeah, I've known a few.
This was woefully inadequate.
This was not a bad book, by any means.
What it was is something unexpected. What? The unexpected content was mostly about....fucking movies or television.
I scooped this arc up because of its supposed content.
You could supply me with 2 shitstones to rub together, and still? Nothing.
If, like me you have lived in multiple dwellings or even a singular dwelling with "ghosts, spirits" whatever... Kick this book to the curb.
In truth? I was looking for validation. Stupid of course.
What angered me quite a bit about this book and it's advertising is that it was and is affective. But, its all a lie.
I believe in ghosts. I didn't, until the day that I did.
If you want a rehash of books, movies or television ghosts, then here ya' be!
This book is pretty much that.
This author took a topic that was and is endlessly fascinating and bored me near to death.
Seriously, I'm damned near gasping and wheezing for breath!
Also, hauntings? Yeah, I've known a few.
This was woefully inadequate.
January 19, 2025
In Sick Houses: Haunted Homes and the Architecture of Dread, author Leila Taylor seeks to examine houses that are somehow believed to be "wrong" whether through traumatic events that have taken place in those houses, the wrongness of the people who have lived in them, or just a sinister reputation that has been assigned due to unpleasant quirks in architecture.
There are some very interesting sections of this book (I'm grateful to Taylor for pointing me in the direction of The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Deaths, which I had never heard of and which are creepy and delightful), and I always love to hear other horror lovers share their enthusiasm for my favorite works in the genre. But there are a couple of big issues that I had with the book that made it not entirely work for me. For one thing, for a relatively short work, the scope here is huge. Taylor discusses a little bit of everything, from historical houses like the Johnathan Corwin "Witch House" in Salem and the Winchester Mystery House, to the abodes of serial killers like the Kansas homestead of the "Bloody Benders", Ed Gein's farmhouse, and the Unabomber's cabin in Montana, to houses and apartment complexes made famous in books and film. This large range of various topics that touch on architecture gave the book a lack of cohesion. It's also written like a series of blog posts, so you get a lot of the author's opinion and personal politics thrown in as well, which was at odds with what is often a rather dry and scholarly approach to the material.
Ultimately, this book was like one of those tv series where people who work in the horror industry chat about their favorite horror tropes/moments/movies, etc. But a lot less fun. I would also add that spoilers to some horror books and movies abound here, so read with caution.
Thanks to Repeater Books and NetGalley for a digital advanced readers copy. Sick Houses will be available February 11, 2025.
There are some very interesting sections of this book (I'm grateful to Taylor for pointing me in the direction of The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Deaths, which I had never heard of and which are creepy and delightful), and I always love to hear other horror lovers share their enthusiasm for my favorite works in the genre. But there are a couple of big issues that I had with the book that made it not entirely work for me. For one thing, for a relatively short work, the scope here is huge. Taylor discusses a little bit of everything, from historical houses like the Johnathan Corwin "Witch House" in Salem and the Winchester Mystery House, to the abodes of serial killers like the Kansas homestead of the "Bloody Benders", Ed Gein's farmhouse, and the Unabomber's cabin in Montana, to houses and apartment complexes made famous in books and film. This large range of various topics that touch on architecture gave the book a lack of cohesion. It's also written like a series of blog posts, so you get a lot of the author's opinion and personal politics thrown in as well, which was at odds with what is often a rather dry and scholarly approach to the material.
Ultimately, this book was like one of those tv series where people who work in the horror industry chat about their favorite horror tropes/moments/movies, etc. But a lot less fun. I would also add that spoilers to some horror books and movies abound here, so read with caution.
Thanks to Repeater Books and NetGalley for a digital advanced readers copy. Sick Houses will be available February 11, 2025.
December 30, 2025
It was a pleasant enough read but I was hoping for a deeper cut and this was more along the lines of a collection of short essays on various locales.
November 19, 2025
I loved this book and the way the author, Leila Taylor talks about haunted houses in movies, books, and real life. What type of events can effect a house and the people who have lived and died there. I was born gifted as a psychic, medium so I have always been able to see, hear and sense things that are off when I go into a house. So that's the beauty of the book having her describing it all for reader's to understand.
describing
describing
January 1, 2025
Special thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for a free, electronic ARC of this novel received in exchange for an honest review.
Expected publication date: Feb. 11, 2025
Leila Taylor’s “Sick Houses: Haunted Homes and the Architecture of Dread” is a unique compilation of structures, throughout human history, that have been labeled as disturbing, off or haunted in some way. From serial killer Ed Gein’s house and the Unabomber’s shack in the woods, to real life horror stories like the house in the Amityville Horror, houses portraying other houses on screen (such as in Hitchcock’s “Psycho”)or even just those houses we identify as belonging to the neighbourhood “witch” or “crone”. Each of these structures are bricks, wood and concrete, and, at one point, was someone’s American Dream. Taylor investigates the desire for home ownership while exploring some of America’s deepest, darkest homes.
Taylor’s book is absolutely creative and new. With the number of stories, I’ve read on hauntings, possessions and all things paranormal, I never thought to look at these stories from the outside and analyze the house where the happenings occurred. Some of Taylor’s tales I am familiar with, such as “The Amityville Horror” house, but there are other, lesser known, architectural horror stories that were just as captivating, if not more so.
Taylor breaks down the book into sections and groups, making “Homes” digestible for the reader. She talks about the architectural style of the house, but does not go overboard, somehow providing the exact right amount of information on the house’s design.
Underneath all of the scary brick and mortar, Taylor delves into some deeper issues, such as the lure of the American dream and the desire for home ownership as well as society’s idea of an unmarried, childless woman being identified as a “witch” or “hag”. As mentioned, there is also some interesting architectural tidbits on the homes’ designs or specific designers (such as Frank Lloyd Wright or Sara Winchester) that kept me engaged.
“Homes” is like a true crime novel or a paranormal story but told from an entirely new perspective. Not only did Taylor provide me with more horror movies (new and old) I’ll have to keep an eye out for, but she presented me with a new way to look at what we call “haunted houses”, and the characters who reside within them.
Expected publication date: Feb. 11, 2025
Leila Taylor’s “Sick Houses: Haunted Homes and the Architecture of Dread” is a unique compilation of structures, throughout human history, that have been labeled as disturbing, off or haunted in some way. From serial killer Ed Gein’s house and the Unabomber’s shack in the woods, to real life horror stories like the house in the Amityville Horror, houses portraying other houses on screen (such as in Hitchcock’s “Psycho”)or even just those houses we identify as belonging to the neighbourhood “witch” or “crone”. Each of these structures are bricks, wood and concrete, and, at one point, was someone’s American Dream. Taylor investigates the desire for home ownership while exploring some of America’s deepest, darkest homes.
Taylor’s book is absolutely creative and new. With the number of stories, I’ve read on hauntings, possessions and all things paranormal, I never thought to look at these stories from the outside and analyze the house where the happenings occurred. Some of Taylor’s tales I am familiar with, such as “The Amityville Horror” house, but there are other, lesser known, architectural horror stories that were just as captivating, if not more so.
Taylor breaks down the book into sections and groups, making “Homes” digestible for the reader. She talks about the architectural style of the house, but does not go overboard, somehow providing the exact right amount of information on the house’s design.
Underneath all of the scary brick and mortar, Taylor delves into some deeper issues, such as the lure of the American dream and the desire for home ownership as well as society’s idea of an unmarried, childless woman being identified as a “witch” or “hag”. As mentioned, there is also some interesting architectural tidbits on the homes’ designs or specific designers (such as Frank Lloyd Wright or Sara Winchester) that kept me engaged.
“Homes” is like a true crime novel or a paranormal story but told from an entirely new perspective. Not only did Taylor provide me with more horror movies (new and old) I’ll have to keep an eye out for, but she presented me with a new way to look at what we call “haunted houses”, and the characters who reside within them.
May 6, 2025
Thank you to Net Galley and Repeater Books for the copy of this title.
A quick read indeed is Sick Houses, which is more of an essay than a novel per se. I love the comparison and contrast that the author makes when she speaks about a house vs. home. Some of this is spot on. However, I don’t have an affinity for haunted houses other than in a book.
The author also keeps referring to the Amityville house (and movie) due to its significance in the haunted house genre. However, I will say that I don’t know why this kept repeating itself in different chapters, but I should note that there have been so many conflicting stories about the Lutzs that it’s hard to believe what’s true or not. It hasn't stopped me from watching (and enjoying) that movie.
The book breaks down houses into a few categories, and the Amityville house is at the forefront of the chapter on American houses. It also talks about “The Conjuring House,” the house featured in “A Haunting in Connecticut," "The House on Haunted Hill," and the house that was featured in "Rose Red."
This book also touches on the importance that we as people place on owning a home and what it means. “It’s one of the biggest events that signify financial stability, personal security, and a cohesive family unit. I wholeheartedly agree that people are taught early on to desire homeownership.
It’s more than a place to decorate. It’s where you experience most of your life, and it’s where memories are created (good and bad). There is also emphasis that houses hold memories, but I think it's the individual who holds the memory about the house.
What I found most interesting was the discussion about high rises in our society and what they signify. Renting was seen as a bad thing until the modern monstrosities came about in the 60s, with every amenity one would need. City living at its best. It’s also mentioned that materials used to build the houses would also have a role to play.
This book connects horror to some of the most infamous houses and structures around the world and hones in on our insecurities about a home and what we love and fear most, as well as how horror takes that notion and capitalizes on it. It's art imitating life.
I loved this title, and some photos accompanying the various homes are extremely interesting and eerie. - Kudos
A quick read indeed is Sick Houses, which is more of an essay than a novel per se. I love the comparison and contrast that the author makes when she speaks about a house vs. home. Some of this is spot on. However, I don’t have an affinity for haunted houses other than in a book.
The author also keeps referring to the Amityville house (and movie) due to its significance in the haunted house genre. However, I will say that I don’t know why this kept repeating itself in different chapters, but I should note that there have been so many conflicting stories about the Lutzs that it’s hard to believe what’s true or not. It hasn't stopped me from watching (and enjoying) that movie.
The book breaks down houses into a few categories, and the Amityville house is at the forefront of the chapter on American houses. It also talks about “The Conjuring House,” the house featured in “A Haunting in Connecticut," "The House on Haunted Hill," and the house that was featured in "Rose Red."
This book also touches on the importance that we as people place on owning a home and what it means. “It’s one of the biggest events that signify financial stability, personal security, and a cohesive family unit. I wholeheartedly agree that people are taught early on to desire homeownership.
It’s more than a place to decorate. It’s where you experience most of your life, and it’s where memories are created (good and bad). There is also emphasis that houses hold memories, but I think it's the individual who holds the memory about the house.
What I found most interesting was the discussion about high rises in our society and what they signify. Renting was seen as a bad thing until the modern monstrosities came about in the 60s, with every amenity one would need. City living at its best. It’s also mentioned that materials used to build the houses would also have a role to play.
This book connects horror to some of the most infamous houses and structures around the world and hones in on our insecurities about a home and what we love and fear most, as well as how horror takes that notion and capitalizes on it. It's art imitating life.
I loved this title, and some photos accompanying the various homes are extremely interesting and eerie. - Kudos
January 13, 2025
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for this ARC!
This is a fantastic concept, and I really found this kind of editorial essay approach to a fascinating non-fiction subject a good one for the topic. This book covers the idea of houses and homes and the in-between that gives us such a distinct sense of dread when dealing with the supernatural in them. I know this feeling well - we live in an incredibly old house, and have just as many cats as necessary to compensate for (presumably) all the ghosts that probably live here with us.
This book starts off with the concept of homes and then the concept of hauntings, and then further dives into interesting sub-genres of the haunted and bizarre in houses. There are segments dedicated to different forms of houses, often pulling on the strings of pop culture to bolster points and the concept of the weird. I found that there were some bits that were a bit too short, and drew on movies that I maybe would not have put into those precise contexts or segments, but they were still solid.
This is a really interesting read as a whole, and while I would have liked for it to be a bit longer, it is definitely a fascinating book, and well worth the time!
This is a fantastic concept, and I really found this kind of editorial essay approach to a fascinating non-fiction subject a good one for the topic. This book covers the idea of houses and homes and the in-between that gives us such a distinct sense of dread when dealing with the supernatural in them. I know this feeling well - we live in an incredibly old house, and have just as many cats as necessary to compensate for (presumably) all the ghosts that probably live here with us.
This book starts off with the concept of homes and then the concept of hauntings, and then further dives into interesting sub-genres of the haunted and bizarre in houses. There are segments dedicated to different forms of houses, often pulling on the strings of pop culture to bolster points and the concept of the weird. I found that there were some bits that were a bit too short, and drew on movies that I maybe would not have put into those precise contexts or segments, but they were still solid.
This is a really interesting read as a whole, and while I would have liked for it to be a bit longer, it is definitely a fascinating book, and well worth the time!
June 22, 2025
Oh mama, this did it for me lol! Architecture, horror and true crime?? A winning combo, beautifully threaded into essays by Leila Taylor. I'm off to get a copy of her other book, Darkly: Black History and America's Gothic Soul
January 17, 2025
Even though she defines “house” vs “home” in chapter 1 and opines that a home can’t be haunted, Taylor keeps coming back to talk about the concept of home which, for me, takes away from the interesting history and descriptions of the sick “houses”. Overall, as a fan of haunted and “sick” houses, it was an enjoyable reminder of the houses I’ve read about and seen in film and was fun to learn a little more about those and others I wasn’t aware of. It’s also an interesting combination of having all the appearances of an academic text but punctuated with strong, occasionally expletive-filled opinions about the houses or their inhabitants, especially the non-fictional ones.
While I appreciated the opportunity to read the ebook, I look forward to seeing the physical book as there were many photos of the houses she mentions that were not done justice in ebook form.
While I appreciated the opportunity to read the ebook, I look forward to seeing the physical book as there were many photos of the houses she mentions that were not done justice in ebook form.
May 26, 2025
While this book is incredibly well-written, thoroughly researched, and detailed, I found it a bit repetitive at times, which made it hard for me to stay fully engaged. I had to take breaks throughout, likely because non-fiction isn’t typically my go-to genre. That said, I can definitely see how the right reader—especially someone more drawn to this type of content—would really enjoy it. I’m giving it 4 stars for the quality and effort that clearly went into it.
March 21, 2025
I really enjoyed this one! It wasn’t what I was expecting at all and I was pleasantly surprised by it. There were a few typos here and there, but definitely did not take away my enjoyment. The research that went into this book is impressive. Definitely glad I read this one.
**Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC**
**Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC**
December 31, 2024
This book dives into what kinds of houses sends shivers down our spine, has us tip toeing down the halls, and peaking around corners, but it delves into the psychological “why” we do these things. Why does this type of house or the people who dwell within them give us the heebie jeebies? Is it because horror movies taught us to fear them, or because these houses drudge forth emotions, fears, hopes, and dreams that have been instilled Into us by our culture, economy, government, race, gender, religion and socioeconomic class .
Things that go bump in the night scare us because not only has it invaded a safe haven, our home, but we can’t see it and it can see us; a gross invasion of our privacy in our most sacred space. Are we really afraid of the old women in the ivy-covered Victorian houses, or do we fear the women who invoke a power they have been taught to repress. Of a woman that defies societal norms and does not keep a house for her husband and children, only herself. Since she does not want to bear children she must want to eat them, right?
This author does a great job at pitting these many issues against plots of horror movies to prove their point. It is not a subject I typically would’ve read about without the horror innuendos, but I ended up really enjoying in the long run. Thank you to NetGalley, Leila Taylor, and Repeater Books for an advanced reading copy in exchange for my honest review.
Things that go bump in the night scare us because not only has it invaded a safe haven, our home, but we can’t see it and it can see us; a gross invasion of our privacy in our most sacred space. Are we really afraid of the old women in the ivy-covered Victorian houses, or do we fear the women who invoke a power they have been taught to repress. Of a woman that defies societal norms and does not keep a house for her husband and children, only herself. Since she does not want to bear children she must want to eat them, right?
This author does a great job at pitting these many issues against plots of horror movies to prove their point. It is not a subject I typically would’ve read about without the horror innuendos, but I ended up really enjoying in the long run. Thank you to NetGalley, Leila Taylor, and Repeater Books for an advanced reading copy in exchange for my honest review.
January 10, 2025
I never expected a book about houses—haunted or otherwise—to be so interesting. Leila Taylor avoids the morbid details of true crime in favor of exploring real and fictional horrors, and does so with the precision of a professional and the charm of a close friend.
Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for the ARC!
Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for the ARC!
June 1, 2025
So glad to have stumbled upon this book!
Both fascinating and even funny at times, this collection of pieces which divides types of “Sick Houses” into categories such as Witch Houses and Forever Houses (bunker homes) was a delightful tickling of the brain.
Well researched examples in film and literature, coupled with her eloquent writing, transformed how I’d previously perceived the idea of Home.
Taylor’s analysis’ held back zero punches and even clarified the plot of a particular novel I had trouble understanding before.
Highly recommend picking this title up! An unexpectedly top 5 of the year so far!
Both fascinating and even funny at times, this collection of pieces which divides types of “Sick Houses” into categories such as Witch Houses and Forever Houses (bunker homes) was a delightful tickling of the brain.
Well researched examples in film and literature, coupled with her eloquent writing, transformed how I’d previously perceived the idea of Home.
Taylor’s analysis’ held back zero punches and even clarified the plot of a particular novel I had trouble understanding before.
Highly recommend picking this title up! An unexpectedly top 5 of the year so far!
April 20, 2025
Read courtesy of NetGalley.
A very readable, eloquent story about houses: haunted, scary, evil, doll, bomb shelters. The author's voice is very enjoyable, and the bibliography impressive, but I did think it could have delved a little deeper - the descriptions of plots and historical details could have been shortened and interpretations expanded. But it still read very well, and I particularly enjoyed the historical and architectural detail (the horror movies I mostly knew or knew of).
A very readable, eloquent story about houses: haunted, scary, evil, doll, bomb shelters. The author's voice is very enjoyable, and the bibliography impressive, but I did think it could have delved a little deeper - the descriptions of plots and historical details could have been shortened and interpretations expanded. But it still read very well, and I particularly enjoyed the historical and architectural detail (the horror movies I mostly knew or knew of).
July 9, 2025
i had a pretty good time but tbh this book is mostly summaries of movies. which i do find interesting to read! it mostly felt like reading a bunch of interesting wikipedia articles. i did love the chapter on witch houses, but overall i wish there was more substance to the analysis.
Read
November 20, 2025such an insightful read! haunted houses always fascinate me and this book provides invaluable commentary on the phenomenon of haunted houses with an acute focus on the role psychology and architecture play. i found the writing very readable and the way taylor utilised films and media to discuss houses helped make the theoretical information a breezy read. found so many more film recs for me to watch! the various demarcations taylor made to understand houses helped in mentally categorising houses and helping me map my understanding of this trope.
funnily enough, i found the first full chapter - 'american houses' a dense read (no clue why) and i was almost convinced this wasn't the book for me, but i pushed through and no idea why i became fully immersed by the second chapter.
of course this isn't a definitive understanding of houses but a very valuable read.
funnily enough, i found the first full chapter - 'american houses' a dense read (no clue why) and i was almost convinced this wasn't the book for me, but i pushed through and no idea why i became fully immersed by the second chapter.
of course this isn't a definitive understanding of houses but a very valuable read.
did-not-finish
August 30, 2025I was hoping for something more along the lines of this. Unfortunately, this is a very silly book about fictional haunted houses (and houses/buildings with notorious reputations that are not necessarily about being haunted).
August 7, 2025
This quite an interesting non-fiction book about sick/haunted houses. No-Fiction
March 10, 2025
Sick Houses
4.5
A fascinating examination of the "haunted house" and the important role they've played, just as much characters themselves, in horror movies.
Whether "based on a true story" or being used as a metaphor, Sick Houses thoroughly showcases some of the most important yet unnamed characters in horror cinema.
4.5 / 5
4.5
A fascinating examination of the "haunted house" and the important role they've played, just as much characters themselves, in horror movies.
Whether "based on a true story" or being used as a metaphor, Sick Houses thoroughly showcases some of the most important yet unnamed characters in horror cinema.
4.5 / 5
March 11, 2025
"I have zero desire to survive an apocalypse. When the aliens invade, when the poles shift, I'll be the first bitten, drowned, or plunged into a crevice in the earth. [...] But mostly, I don't want to "survive". [...] It looks miserable."
finally someone said it
finally someone said it
June 2, 2025
Major thanks to Repeater Books and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Leila Tayor’s new book Sick Houses: Haunted Homes & the Architecture of Dread. I previously read and loved Taylor’s other book Darkly: Black History and America’s Gothic Soul. I was so glad to find this book, especially looking at the well designed cover and captivating title. As Taylor states in her introduction, she’s “drawn to houses that feel wrong for whatever reason.” While this book examines some of the more popular haunted house stories and films, it also examines some interesting and sick houses that have captivated Taylor for various reasons. Furthermore, Taylor also examines how these kinds of haunted house stories make us feel, likening the feeling of a kind of invasion or unwelcoming to other stories like possession and exorcism stories, where our most sacred and personal spaces are often invaded or overtaken by some unwelcome guests. The book is broken up into different types of houses where Taylor goes on to examine representations of these kinds of haunted houses in history, folklore and legends, books, films and television shows. I read some reviews that were disappointed that Taylor’s book examined popular representations of these kinds of houses, but for those criticisms, I think they missed the point and many of her observations of real houses and some of the true stories behind popular representations of haunted houses (like the Psycho house and how it compares with the house of Ed Gein, whose story influenced the book Psycho, and the Hardesty House from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, which was influenced by Psycho). Furthermore, much of Taylor’s analysis is rooted in history and social movements that influence the styles of homes and the social push for home ownership in mostly American culture. In particular, Taylor closely analyzes class distinctions in housing, and how homes and their designs as well as their interiors are often representations of class. I found her analysis and careful observations of these differences and themes in haunted house stories, myths and representations to be both distinctive and well-researched, leading to a fascinating read that challenged my thinking about the space of a home, as well as the physical features and the meaning of a home (as opposed to a house).
The first chapter, “American Houses”, explores the idea of home ownership as part of the American Dream, and examines some horror stories and films in which that dream is destroyed by a haunted house. It’s interesting to see how popular this idea is in films especially from the 70s and 80s, and how this coincided with increased home ownership in suburban areas. As Taylor notes, many of these families are white, middle class families that are often moving due to new situations like jobs or the need for more space. Starting with The Amityville Horror, where the family was the first to own a home in generations, their desire to own property and a part of the American dream also comes at a price when they buy a home discounted due to the gruesome murders that occurred there. Other films like Poltergeist also posit the idea that the ground upon which the home is built is cursed due to moving bodies. These two films in particular are some of my earliest horror memories, since I feel like they were always on TV when I was younger. Poltergeist was always such a fascinating and scary movie since the family seemed a lot like mine, yet the experiences in the home were so graphic and terrifying. I always was scared that I might go to the sink and start peeling my face. Taylor also notes that not all families experience positive changes, finding a few films in which the families are experiencing a kind of downward mobility, like The Conjuring and Sinister, two movies I’ve been a little afraid of watching since I’ve become a home owner. I also appreciated her inclusion of Us, a film I absolutely loved that challenged my ideas about accessibility and difference for people in America. Taylor identifies Us as one of the few films about a Black family of home owners (and a vacation home) that experience this kind of invasion, although it is from their underground or shadow selves. Nevertheless, Taylor explores how these films often follow a common storyline that exploits our desire for their American dream of a place to care and raise a family, or a place where someone can identify with and call their own. One of the other points about this chapter that resonated with me was how Taylor identifies that the American dream wasn’t always attainable for all, and pre-planned suburban developments, like Levittown, often excluded Black families and discouraged Black home ownership, despite the idea of home ownership or landownership being a part of freedom, agency and self-determination. As Taylor explains, this kind of exclusion not only included Black families, but women as well. I wondered how much of this horror from the 70s and 80s was about white flight and featuring white families invaded by the other. It is a fascinating idea to consider for these films that continue to maintain popularity and resonance with audiences.
One of the reasons why I started this book now was because I was traveling around Southern California, and took a tour of The Whaley House, which apparently is America’s most haunted house. It was creepy, mainly due to a possibly haunted doll in the home, but I didn’t experience some of the hauntings the tour suggested. There’s a kind of lived in presence I felt, and have experienced in other historical sites, where artifacts and residue of the living remain. However, reading the chapter “Brutal Houses” also made me realize how much cool and unique architecture is in Southern California. Taylor explores some of the unique settings in films and in real life, sharing a surprising story about a Frank Lloyd Wright house in LA that has a connection with the Black Dahlia murders (I also need to check out the limited series I Am the Night thanks to Taylor’s recommendation. Some of the other modernist homes that Taylor analyzes are in the films High-Rise and Shivers, both of which feature a kind of self-contained world in these large apartment buildings, and how this desire to almost wall oneself off from the world can breed both severe class distinctions and, in the case of Shivers, a sickness that easily spreads. Taylor then links these kinds of homes to housing projects from the 60s and 70s that eventually deteriorated. I was thinking about the Cabrini Green projects from Candyman, but the horrors experienced by the Pruitt-Igoe residents and the dilapidation that occurred are just as bad. Taylor also cites the project form Clockwork Orange, and how this setting helped to signify the types of bleak future these planned communities offered residents of lower socio-economic status, serving as a kind of nightmare in itself.
One of my favorite chapters focused on “Witch Houses”, which Taylor explains can be represented in different ways and have different meanings. I loved that she referenced Haxan and Brand New Cherry Flavor in the same chapter (among some other great films and stories). This chapter was one of the most fascinating in the book because, as Taylor explains, “the witch house eschews domesticity as the central purpose of the home and the matriarch as a caretaker. Instead, it frames the house as a locus of power.” Although women labeled as witches were often on the margins of society, many of the accusations were also due to their unique positions as women landowners, and the accusations came from a place of envy or greed, not of superstitious beliefs. As Boro in Brand New Cherry Flavor shows to Lisa, a witch is not necessarily evil, but more like a guide or mediator who can provide knowledge or insight. I liked that the witch is framed as someone whose power extends from knowledge, much like medicine people. I was also so excited to see that this chapter also included an analysis of Nobuhiko Obayashi’s Hausu, one of my all-time favorite movies. I never thought about the Auntie as a witch, but Taylor provides a unique read on the film that explains how the Auntie is like a witch in reverse, one who gets stronger from feeding off of the girls who come to visit. She then relates this to other witch stories like Hansel and Gretel (also providing me with additional films to view—I haven’t seen the Oz Perkins version of this story yet, but will need to check it out). Other films include some of Argento’s films that relate to witch covens (Suspiria and Inferno) that have some kind of connection among The Three Mothers. Framing this chapter, though, is Taylor’s explanation that she wishes to live in a witch house that appears decayed on the outside, but would challenge perceptions about its inhabitants by showing kindness to any kids who are dared to knock on the door. It’s a reminder about the kinds of ironies that often arise in these witch stories and their houses, where the inhabitants tend to offer more that their homes suggest.
The last three chapters were also interesting in that they dealt with different types of imagined houses. “Mad Houses” focuses houses where crimes are committed, typically those of people deemed insane. Taylor starts by analyzing Ted Kaczynski’s shack, which I didn’t realize was actually transported to storage and then put on display, where Taylor was able to visit in its exhibit. She describes the oddly placed windows and small door that lacks a knob, explaining that it demonstrates that this was more of a house, a structure used to house someone, not really designed for living. She then moves to explore Norman Bates’ home from Psycho, and how this kind of Victorian design initially represented wealth and privilege, but frequently fell into disrepair as the economic tides turned around the turn of the century. She also describes Norman’s and his mother’s rooms as being in a kind of stasis, where nothing really changes and things are preserved in a juvenile, undeveloped state. She compares this to Ed Gein’s home, who was the original inspiration for Bates. This chapter was graphic in describing some of the evidence found in Gein’s home. She links this site to another murderous family from the Midwest, The Benders, who devised a strange way to cover up their murders of boarders looking for respite from travel. The chapter also examines the Hardesty House from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, which includes much death and decay, at least in the film. The theme seemed to be a kind of insanity, but it also looks at the decay that arises from a kind of stasis, where things fail to grow. “Little Houses” focuses on doll houses and other small representations. This chapter examined the use of the miniature home that Annie develops to manage her depression and anguish in Hereditary. I was glad to find this analysis, since I’ve wondered about its meaning since watching that film. I haven’t been bold enough to re-watch this film, but Annie’s desire to control and manage her life through the miniature representation seemed meaningful, especially as her own family and life seemed to spin out of her control. There are some other great references to films and televisions shows that I need to check out that feature creepy dollhouses. “Forever Houses” looks at bunkers and other prepper homes that are in films and history. I’m not too familiar with these stories, especially those kinds of dystopian future survival stories. Part of the reason that Night of the Living Dead scared me so much was the claustrophobic feeling. Nevertheless, 10 Cloverfield Lane sounds like a fascinating film that I will also need to check out. I loved how Taylor reframes this idea of prepping as more of a wish that a fear, as she quotes Mark O’Connell. That is, preppers seem to have a feeling of losing control, and their idea of preparing to hole away for an indeterminate time provides them with a sense of control. This seemed apparent in It Comes at Night, a truly terrifying film more for the behaviors of the survivors than what has actually destroyed society. It’s the kind of power and control that the father seeks that brings on further violence. There is also a horrible true event that Taylor shares about another father who sought to control his own family. It’s a shocking and sad story, but it also speaks to some of the horrors that plain, nondescript homes may hide inside, and how the idea of home ownership can also be a means of control for some fathers.
I absolutely loved this book and couldn’t put it down. It was easy to read, but also a thought-provoking book that challenged my ideas about homes and society. The themes and examples are excellent, and Taylor is a thoughtful and inventive critic and analyst, creatively making connections between historical and popular examples. I feel like my viewing list has expanded significantly after reading this book, and I’m also looking more closely at homes and architecture. Although I loved this book, I felt like there were a number of other examples that could have been included in the book. When reading about The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, I kept thinking about Ti West’s Maxxxine triology, especially XXX and Pearl, where the home is the site of some horrible acts. Rather than a refuge that it seems, it’s a space of murder and derangement. It made me think of other Ti West films like House of the Devil, where the home is the site of subterfuge and a dark arts ritual. I wondered if there could be a chapter on Satanic or devilsh houses. The Norman Bates home also made me think about Red Dragon, and Dollarhyde’s first home with his grandmother. I don’t think it’s shown as much in the film, but it left a deep impression on me from the book, providing some insight into how he became the Tooth Fairy. I know there are others that I’m missing (the American version of House, about the traumas of war), but I loved that this book had me thinking more about the role of homes in horror and the deeper meaning it has for our own desire for a place to call our own. I highly recommend this book and really appreciate the images that are included throughout the book.
The first chapter, “American Houses”, explores the idea of home ownership as part of the American Dream, and examines some horror stories and films in which that dream is destroyed by a haunted house. It’s interesting to see how popular this idea is in films especially from the 70s and 80s, and how this coincided with increased home ownership in suburban areas. As Taylor notes, many of these families are white, middle class families that are often moving due to new situations like jobs or the need for more space. Starting with The Amityville Horror, where the family was the first to own a home in generations, their desire to own property and a part of the American dream also comes at a price when they buy a home discounted due to the gruesome murders that occurred there. Other films like Poltergeist also posit the idea that the ground upon which the home is built is cursed due to moving bodies. These two films in particular are some of my earliest horror memories, since I feel like they were always on TV when I was younger. Poltergeist was always such a fascinating and scary movie since the family seemed a lot like mine, yet the experiences in the home were so graphic and terrifying. I always was scared that I might go to the sink and start peeling my face. Taylor also notes that not all families experience positive changes, finding a few films in which the families are experiencing a kind of downward mobility, like The Conjuring and Sinister, two movies I’ve been a little afraid of watching since I’ve become a home owner. I also appreciated her inclusion of Us, a film I absolutely loved that challenged my ideas about accessibility and difference for people in America. Taylor identifies Us as one of the few films about a Black family of home owners (and a vacation home) that experience this kind of invasion, although it is from their underground or shadow selves. Nevertheless, Taylor explores how these films often follow a common storyline that exploits our desire for their American dream of a place to care and raise a family, or a place where someone can identify with and call their own. One of the other points about this chapter that resonated with me was how Taylor identifies that the American dream wasn’t always attainable for all, and pre-planned suburban developments, like Levittown, often excluded Black families and discouraged Black home ownership, despite the idea of home ownership or landownership being a part of freedom, agency and self-determination. As Taylor explains, this kind of exclusion not only included Black families, but women as well. I wondered how much of this horror from the 70s and 80s was about white flight and featuring white families invaded by the other. It is a fascinating idea to consider for these films that continue to maintain popularity and resonance with audiences.
One of the reasons why I started this book now was because I was traveling around Southern California, and took a tour of The Whaley House, which apparently is America’s most haunted house. It was creepy, mainly due to a possibly haunted doll in the home, but I didn’t experience some of the hauntings the tour suggested. There’s a kind of lived in presence I felt, and have experienced in other historical sites, where artifacts and residue of the living remain. However, reading the chapter “Brutal Houses” also made me realize how much cool and unique architecture is in Southern California. Taylor explores some of the unique settings in films and in real life, sharing a surprising story about a Frank Lloyd Wright house in LA that has a connection with the Black Dahlia murders (I also need to check out the limited series I Am the Night thanks to Taylor’s recommendation. Some of the other modernist homes that Taylor analyzes are in the films High-Rise and Shivers, both of which feature a kind of self-contained world in these large apartment buildings, and how this desire to almost wall oneself off from the world can breed both severe class distinctions and, in the case of Shivers, a sickness that easily spreads. Taylor then links these kinds of homes to housing projects from the 60s and 70s that eventually deteriorated. I was thinking about the Cabrini Green projects from Candyman, but the horrors experienced by the Pruitt-Igoe residents and the dilapidation that occurred are just as bad. Taylor also cites the project form Clockwork Orange, and how this setting helped to signify the types of bleak future these planned communities offered residents of lower socio-economic status, serving as a kind of nightmare in itself.
One of my favorite chapters focused on “Witch Houses”, which Taylor explains can be represented in different ways and have different meanings. I loved that she referenced Haxan and Brand New Cherry Flavor in the same chapter (among some other great films and stories). This chapter was one of the most fascinating in the book because, as Taylor explains, “the witch house eschews domesticity as the central purpose of the home and the matriarch as a caretaker. Instead, it frames the house as a locus of power.” Although women labeled as witches were often on the margins of society, many of the accusations were also due to their unique positions as women landowners, and the accusations came from a place of envy or greed, not of superstitious beliefs. As Boro in Brand New Cherry Flavor shows to Lisa, a witch is not necessarily evil, but more like a guide or mediator who can provide knowledge or insight. I liked that the witch is framed as someone whose power extends from knowledge, much like medicine people. I was also so excited to see that this chapter also included an analysis of Nobuhiko Obayashi’s Hausu, one of my all-time favorite movies. I never thought about the Auntie as a witch, but Taylor provides a unique read on the film that explains how the Auntie is like a witch in reverse, one who gets stronger from feeding off of the girls who come to visit. She then relates this to other witch stories like Hansel and Gretel (also providing me with additional films to view—I haven’t seen the Oz Perkins version of this story yet, but will need to check it out). Other films include some of Argento’s films that relate to witch covens (Suspiria and Inferno) that have some kind of connection among The Three Mothers. Framing this chapter, though, is Taylor’s explanation that she wishes to live in a witch house that appears decayed on the outside, but would challenge perceptions about its inhabitants by showing kindness to any kids who are dared to knock on the door. It’s a reminder about the kinds of ironies that often arise in these witch stories and their houses, where the inhabitants tend to offer more that their homes suggest.
The last three chapters were also interesting in that they dealt with different types of imagined houses. “Mad Houses” focuses houses where crimes are committed, typically those of people deemed insane. Taylor starts by analyzing Ted Kaczynski’s shack, which I didn’t realize was actually transported to storage and then put on display, where Taylor was able to visit in its exhibit. She describes the oddly placed windows and small door that lacks a knob, explaining that it demonstrates that this was more of a house, a structure used to house someone, not really designed for living. She then moves to explore Norman Bates’ home from Psycho, and how this kind of Victorian design initially represented wealth and privilege, but frequently fell into disrepair as the economic tides turned around the turn of the century. She also describes Norman’s and his mother’s rooms as being in a kind of stasis, where nothing really changes and things are preserved in a juvenile, undeveloped state. She compares this to Ed Gein’s home, who was the original inspiration for Bates. This chapter was graphic in describing some of the evidence found in Gein’s home. She links this site to another murderous family from the Midwest, The Benders, who devised a strange way to cover up their murders of boarders looking for respite from travel. The chapter also examines the Hardesty House from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, which includes much death and decay, at least in the film. The theme seemed to be a kind of insanity, but it also looks at the decay that arises from a kind of stasis, where things fail to grow. “Little Houses” focuses on doll houses and other small representations. This chapter examined the use of the miniature home that Annie develops to manage her depression and anguish in Hereditary. I was glad to find this analysis, since I’ve wondered about its meaning since watching that film. I haven’t been bold enough to re-watch this film, but Annie’s desire to control and manage her life through the miniature representation seemed meaningful, especially as her own family and life seemed to spin out of her control. There are some other great references to films and televisions shows that I need to check out that feature creepy dollhouses. “Forever Houses” looks at bunkers and other prepper homes that are in films and history. I’m not too familiar with these stories, especially those kinds of dystopian future survival stories. Part of the reason that Night of the Living Dead scared me so much was the claustrophobic feeling. Nevertheless, 10 Cloverfield Lane sounds like a fascinating film that I will also need to check out. I loved how Taylor reframes this idea of prepping as more of a wish that a fear, as she quotes Mark O’Connell. That is, preppers seem to have a feeling of losing control, and their idea of preparing to hole away for an indeterminate time provides them with a sense of control. This seemed apparent in It Comes at Night, a truly terrifying film more for the behaviors of the survivors than what has actually destroyed society. It’s the kind of power and control that the father seeks that brings on further violence. There is also a horrible true event that Taylor shares about another father who sought to control his own family. It’s a shocking and sad story, but it also speaks to some of the horrors that plain, nondescript homes may hide inside, and how the idea of home ownership can also be a means of control for some fathers.
I absolutely loved this book and couldn’t put it down. It was easy to read, but also a thought-provoking book that challenged my ideas about homes and society. The themes and examples are excellent, and Taylor is a thoughtful and inventive critic and analyst, creatively making connections between historical and popular examples. I feel like my viewing list has expanded significantly after reading this book, and I’m also looking more closely at homes and architecture. Although I loved this book, I felt like there were a number of other examples that could have been included in the book. When reading about The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, I kept thinking about Ti West’s Maxxxine triology, especially XXX and Pearl, where the home is the site of some horrible acts. Rather than a refuge that it seems, it’s a space of murder and derangement. It made me think of other Ti West films like House of the Devil, where the home is the site of subterfuge and a dark arts ritual. I wondered if there could be a chapter on Satanic or devilsh houses. The Norman Bates home also made me think about Red Dragon, and Dollarhyde’s first home with his grandmother. I don’t think it’s shown as much in the film, but it left a deep impression on me from the book, providing some insight into how he became the Tooth Fairy. I know there are others that I’m missing (the American version of House, about the traumas of war), but I loved that this book had me thinking more about the role of homes in horror and the deeper meaning it has for our own desire for a place to call our own. I highly recommend this book and really appreciate the images that are included throughout the book.
February 4, 2025
The greatest detriment to this book is including "Haunted Homes" in the tagline. While Sick Houses does feature haunted houses, those expecting a thorough analysis of the haunted home to be the primary focus will be disappointed. "The Architecture of Dread," however, perfectly encapsulates Taylor's scope, and this is particularly evident in the chapter on Brutal Houses.
Brutal Houses, while not typically considered haunted, especially due to the lack of history normally entrenched in them, can certainly evoke dread. Conceptually, this was a masterful chapter. However, it is also illustrates one of my biggest issues with Sick Houses: spending too much time covering tangentially related real history and not enough on analysis.
When Taylor engages with film and literary analysis, it's compelling. She's skilled at drawing concise conclusions and making obvious the symbolism behind every motif. Her style as a writer, when she gets to really go in on it, is one that I love. But there are points in this that lost me. At times, I felt more like I was reading a list of real-life examples related to the current category of sick house than literary analysis. I certainly did not need the level of detail into a person's history and family that I received to discuss their house, and in these scenarios often found myself struggling to keep the "characters" straight or remember what kind of sick house they had, or how it would connect to the larger plot of the work. Some of the chapters are less connected to the larger idea of Sick Houses and the architecture of dread than I would like them to be, and there was a lot of room for critical analysis to tie them back in. It was still interesting, but at points my reaction was much more "okay, cool story?" than how I typically react to well-written literary criticism.
If you want a critical framework for haunted house stories and what makes them compelling, Taylor does exemplary work on this in her introduction. The introduction alone is worth a read for her ideas about why the haunted house trope is one that is endured since the origin of horror, and her likening of haunted houses to the demon-possessed body. "American Houses," too, is an excellent unravelling of this idea, particularly as it relates to the modern haunted house. "Little Houses" is one I think haunted house enjoyers and horror movie fans will also really enjoy, and was one of my favourite criticism sections. "Mad Houses" is another that readers drawn by the tagline should appreciate. "Forever Houses" I enjoyed a lot more than I expected to based on the title, and "My House" was an excellent way to end this novel. However, "Witch Houses" and "Brutal Houses" could benefit from focused editing to get to the meat of the matter.
3.5 stars, rounded up.
Brutal Houses, while not typically considered haunted, especially due to the lack of history normally entrenched in them, can certainly evoke dread. Conceptually, this was a masterful chapter. However, it is also illustrates one of my biggest issues with Sick Houses: spending too much time covering tangentially related real history and not enough on analysis.
When Taylor engages with film and literary analysis, it's compelling. She's skilled at drawing concise conclusions and making obvious the symbolism behind every motif. Her style as a writer, when she gets to really go in on it, is one that I love. But there are points in this that lost me. At times, I felt more like I was reading a list of real-life examples related to the current category of sick house than literary analysis. I certainly did not need the level of detail into a person's history and family that I received to discuss their house, and in these scenarios often found myself struggling to keep the "characters" straight or remember what kind of sick house they had, or how it would connect to the larger plot of the work. Some of the chapters are less connected to the larger idea of Sick Houses and the architecture of dread than I would like them to be, and there was a lot of room for critical analysis to tie them back in. It was still interesting, but at points my reaction was much more "okay, cool story?" than how I typically react to well-written literary criticism.
If you want a critical framework for haunted house stories and what makes them compelling, Taylor does exemplary work on this in her introduction. The introduction alone is worth a read for her ideas about why the haunted house trope is one that is endured since the origin of horror, and her likening of haunted houses to the demon-possessed body. "American Houses," too, is an excellent unravelling of this idea, particularly as it relates to the modern haunted house. "Little Houses" is one I think haunted house enjoyers and horror movie fans will also really enjoy, and was one of my favourite criticism sections. "Mad Houses" is another that readers drawn by the tagline should appreciate. "Forever Houses" I enjoyed a lot more than I expected to based on the title, and "My House" was an excellent way to end this novel. However, "Witch Houses" and "Brutal Houses" could benefit from focused editing to get to the meat of the matter.
3.5 stars, rounded up.
January 17, 2025
Leila Taylor's Sick Houses: Haunted Homes and the Architecture of Dread is an excellent overview of the different aspects of homes through a horror lens, what makes them that way, and what that means for the people inhabiting them. By providing examples of both fictional and non-fictional houses, Taylor turned her literary criticism into a cabinet of curiosities. Each chapter leads us to a new sub-section of the topic, pulling examples from pop culture, history, and true crime; Taylor's strength as a descriptive author made it unnecessary to Google every house she mentions and continue to read on (though the added photographs of certain houses were tasteful and well placed). The tone is conversational yet professional, with her insights and wrap-up adding strength to her analysis.
As a slight critique, a heads-up for spoilers about some movies and books would have been nice. I quickly caught on that any time Taylor mentioned a film or book, the entire plot would be revealed, but I imagine it would be offputting to some readers. Additionally, There was no way she could feasibly address every example for each chapter, either; but I believe she could have gone more in-depth at some points or made the connections between her examples stronger.
The final chapter of Sick Houses, "My House," feels like an extended metaphor for this text. She brings us a pile of information, debris of terrifying instances both real and fictional, and wants us to make something of it. She never draws our conclusions but makes her thesis for each chapter clear. If the reader is here for the actual gritty details of architecture itself, they may be disappointed, but Sick Houses is perfect for anyone interested in the subject of pop culture horror and how it intersects with our lives.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for this advanced reader's copy.
As a slight critique, a heads-up for spoilers about some movies and books would have been nice. I quickly caught on that any time Taylor mentioned a film or book, the entire plot would be revealed, but I imagine it would be offputting to some readers. Additionally, There was no way she could feasibly address every example for each chapter, either; but I believe she could have gone more in-depth at some points or made the connections between her examples stronger.
The final chapter of Sick Houses, "My House," feels like an extended metaphor for this text. She brings us a pile of information, debris of terrifying instances both real and fictional, and wants us to make something of it. She never draws our conclusions but makes her thesis for each chapter clear. If the reader is here for the actual gritty details of architecture itself, they may be disappointed, but Sick Houses is perfect for anyone interested in the subject of pop culture horror and how it intersects with our lives.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for this advanced reader's copy.
May 27, 2025
I wanted this book to be something it wasn't. The title suggests it'll get into detail about how architecture and design make us feel. It did some of that, but large sections were summarizing movies. Halfway through the book, the author starts interjecting personal anecdotes and opinions, which would be fine if it was done throughout the book, and not randomly. A few of them weren't even on topic. Also, two pettier things: number one, saying Sarah Winchester was "perfectly sane" doesn't match with her behavior. She experienced great losses close together - no one comes out of that unscathed. You can make a point that she wasn't as "kooky" as the media makes her out to be without denying mental health issues. No one well off creates stairs that go nowhere or doors with no landings. Number two: actually, living in a house with mold and structural damage is not liberation or cool, especially if one has pets. It's the failure of society to help and protect those who live in it. Okay, I'm done being on my soap box, but those who disagree can fight me outside.
February 13, 2025
“Who does the house belong to, the family that just moved in or the dead who never left?”
Em pouco mais de 230 páginas, Leila Taylor leva-nos numa viagem entre livros e filmes de terror, com algo em comum: a casa, seja sob que forma for, como um elemento constante.
O que é a casa, a nossa casa? É suposto ser o sítio onde nos sentimos mais seguros no mundo, onde somos mais vulneráveis, e ter esse sentimento arrancado de nós é traumatizante e aterrador; a partir deste conceito, a autora explora como a casa em si tem modelado o terror, desde os tempos mais antigos até à modernidade.
Desde a arquitetura à história, somos levados numa viagem bastante interessante, onde mitos e lendas são desconstruídos num tom que me fez rir ocasionalmente. Adorei ler sobre Sarah Winchester e a verdadeira história da sua casa (não assombrada).
"Ancient Egyptians couldn't possibly have built the Pyramids of Giza. Must have been aliens. A woman couldn't have conceived of a house like this on her own. She must have been insane."
Apesar dos spoilers constantes acerca de vários filmes de terror, gostei bastante da forma como Leila Taylor abordou o assunto, das suas reflexões, e de como algo tão simples desde casas em miniatura a bunkers têm um impacto tão profundo no terror, tornando-se em personagens de seu próprio direito.
Uma leitura excelente para fãs de não ficção, onde cinema, terror e arquitetura se entrelaçam no meio de boas risadas.
"When the aliens invade, when the poles shift, I'll be the first bitten, drowned, or plunged into a crevice in the earth, Ever since zombies started moving fast, that marked the end for me."
Em pouco mais de 230 páginas, Leila Taylor leva-nos numa viagem entre livros e filmes de terror, com algo em comum: a casa, seja sob que forma for, como um elemento constante.
O que é a casa, a nossa casa? É suposto ser o sítio onde nos sentimos mais seguros no mundo, onde somos mais vulneráveis, e ter esse sentimento arrancado de nós é traumatizante e aterrador; a partir deste conceito, a autora explora como a casa em si tem modelado o terror, desde os tempos mais antigos até à modernidade.
Desde a arquitetura à história, somos levados numa viagem bastante interessante, onde mitos e lendas são desconstruídos num tom que me fez rir ocasionalmente. Adorei ler sobre Sarah Winchester e a verdadeira história da sua casa (não assombrada).
"Ancient Egyptians couldn't possibly have built the Pyramids of Giza. Must have been aliens. A woman couldn't have conceived of a house like this on her own. She must have been insane."
Apesar dos spoilers constantes acerca de vários filmes de terror, gostei bastante da forma como Leila Taylor abordou o assunto, das suas reflexões, e de como algo tão simples desde casas em miniatura a bunkers têm um impacto tão profundo no terror, tornando-se em personagens de seu próprio direito.
Uma leitura excelente para fãs de não ficção, onde cinema, terror e arquitetura se entrelaçam no meio de boas risadas.
"When the aliens invade, when the poles shift, I'll be the first bitten, drowned, or plunged into a crevice in the earth, Ever since zombies started moving fast, that marked the end for me."
January 6, 2025
thank you NetGalley and Repeater Books for the ARC💕
Sick Houses is a good read that dives into how horror twists the idea of home into something terrifying. One of my favorite parts was the photos and the interesting facts—not just about haunted or creepy houses, but also about what makes a house feel like a home. It made me think about how personal and vulnerable our connection to home really is.
I loved the detailed analysis of famous houses from movies—it was so cool to see those spaces broken down in a new way. That said, there were moments when the book got a bit too detailed, and it pulled me out of the spooky mood I was expecting.
Overall, I think this book is perfect for someone who’s really passionate about the horror genre and wants to dig deeper into the themes and symbolism behind it. It’s more about exploration than scares, but if that’s what you’re looking for, it’s definitely worth reading.
Sick Houses is a good read that dives into how horror twists the idea of home into something terrifying. One of my favorite parts was the photos and the interesting facts—not just about haunted or creepy houses, but also about what makes a house feel like a home. It made me think about how personal and vulnerable our connection to home really is.
I loved the detailed analysis of famous houses from movies—it was so cool to see those spaces broken down in a new way. That said, there were moments when the book got a bit too detailed, and it pulled me out of the spooky mood I was expecting.
Overall, I think this book is perfect for someone who’s really passionate about the horror genre and wants to dig deeper into the themes and symbolism behind it. It’s more about exploration than scares, but if that’s what you’re looking for, it’s definitely worth reading.
February 2, 2025
This book had a really intriguing concept that caught my eye at first, but I found that it didn't quite resonate with me as I had hoped. As someone who loves horror novels and haunted houses, I thought it would be right up my alley. Unfortunately, it seemed to lean more towards the architectural side of the homes and the idea of “what makes a house a home,” which wasn’t what I expected.
The content felt a bit like an extended listicle about famous haunted places, and a lot of it summarized plot points from other horror films and literature—definitely a few spoilers for those who haven’t seen them yet! Overall, it seemed like the author might have needed a deeper dive into the subject matter. A more thorough research approach and analysis, rather than just summarizing, could have really elevated the quality of the book.
The content felt a bit like an extended listicle about famous haunted places, and a lot of it summarized plot points from other horror films and literature—definitely a few spoilers for those who haven’t seen them yet! Overall, it seemed like the author might have needed a deeper dive into the subject matter. A more thorough research approach and analysis, rather than just summarizing, could have really elevated the quality of the book.
January 31, 2025
Sick Houses, an analysis of the architecture behind the haunted house, is a fantastic nonfiction read for any horror movie buff, architecture nerd, or haunted house enthusiast! Taylor's thoughtful, in-depth examination deftly walks the line between an academic thesis and a pleasure read, managing to be both scholarly and entertaining. From film to fiction, Taylor clearly knows her horror, and Sick Houses' analyses run the gamut from the classic Victorian haunted house to less stereotypical forms like modern architecture, bunkers, miniatures, and more. I'd definitely recommend this to any horror fan, or, for those who aren't horror fans, this would make a great gift for any spook-loving person in your life! Thanks to Repeater Books and NetGalley for the digital advanced review copy!
January 30, 2025
While Sick Houses was a fun premise and I'm sure people will love it I didn't. I found myself ready for it to be over before I was even half way through. I feel like this would have done better as a shorter section in a book about the history of horror and crime or something. I do think people who are into architecture and haunted or creepy houses will love this though.
Thank you to NetGalley and Repeater Books for the ARC!
Thank you to NetGalley and Repeater Books for the ARC!
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