House of Leaves

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I usually read dusty old crap that reaffirms my fist-shaking, old-man crankiness toward the world in general. The most recently published book I read this year was Mark Z. Danielewski's 2000 novel, House of Leaves. It scared the crap out of me... nearly as much as it irritated the hell out of me. It was as hugely claustrophobic as Arthur C. Clark's seemingly never-ending trek through the cylinder in Rendezvous With Rama, while jammed up against a constant Shining-like tension that makes you certain that those damn twins will probably show up wearing bloody pig masks and freak the pee outta you. The novel also had the slightly salacious undertone offered by some "M"-rated video games, which I like, because I don't need reading glasses to play video games. —Charlie Doan, bartender, artist and man in charge at Fuma Bella

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