On “Hell House” and Descriptions

I recently finished Richard Matheson’s Hell House while searching for the scariest books to reference for my own writing. I wanted to study how other authors describe scenes and create frightening environments for readers.

Hell House appears on many “Scariest Books Ever Written” lists – and I genuinely hoped for a good scare. While it delivered some effective frights, it wasn’t the scariest book I’ve ever read. This may be because haunted house tales from this era feel somewhat dated now. (Other reviews mentioned issues with the violence, which didn’t bother me personally—though I could have done without the sexual content.)

The scariest moment was a scene where Barrett gets taunted by something in a steam room. We never learn what that something is, which may be why the scene continues to haunt me.

Another frightening element is the ambiguous ending. Did they actually resolve and eliminate the horror? Barrett sees a chair sitting still in a mirror’s reflection—the same chair that rocked on its own just days earlier (pg 263). What certainty do we have that it won’t rock again? Life is never that certain. Will the chair rock again? What was in the tarn? This great and inconceivable unknown has a Lovecraftian quality that I find compelling.

Descriptions have been a particular challenge for me as a writer. I’m curious whether it’s acceptable to write “Something watched in the darkness” or “Suddenly the creature rose from the mud” to create the appropriate reading experience. Matheson’s approach was much simpler but effective: “She stood with a mournful sigh and crossed the room. Entering the bathroom, she ran a glass of water” (pg 209). I would have gotten stuck describing her steps from bed to door, opening the door, entering the bathroom, going to the sink, turning on the faucet…

I have much to learn. We can always do more with less.

While Hell House wasn’t one of the scariest books ever, it has effective moments. I’d recommend it with reservations—take what works and skip what doesn’t.