The Haunting of Hill House (Penguin Classics)
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The classic supernatural thriller by an author who helped define the genre
First published in 1959, Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House has been hailed as a perfect work of unnerving terror. It is the story of four seekers who arrive at a notoriously unfriendly pile called Hill House: Dr. Montague, an occult scholar looking for solid evidence of a "haunting"; Theodora, his lighthearted assistant; Eleanor, a friendless, fragile young woman well acquainted with poltergeists; and Luke, the future heir of Hill House. At first, their stay seems destined to be merely a spooky encounter with inexplicable phenomena. But Hill House is gathering its powers—and soon it will choose one of them to make its own.
For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,700 titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators.
footsteps, almost dancing, up the steps and across the veranda, and then, shockingly, the crash of the great iron knocker coming down. Why, she thought, there are other people coming; I am not going to be here all alone. Almost laughing, she ran across the room and into the hall, to look down the staircase into the hallway below. “Thank heaven you're here,” she said, peering through the dimness, “thank heaven somebody's here.” She realized without surprise that she was speaking as though Mrs.
be more comfortable in here than in one of the other rooms. As a matter of fact, I think we ought to regard this room as our center of operations, a kind of common room; it may not be cheerful—” “Of course it's cheerful,” Theodora said stanchly. “There is nothing more exhilarating than maroon upholstery and oak paneling, and what is that in the corner there? A sedan chair?” “Tomorrow you will see the other rooms,” the doctor told her. “If we are going to have this for a rumpus room,” Luke
“What a pretty room this would be without it.” She turned, swinging. “A dancing room,” she said, “for ladies in full skirts, and room enough for a full country dance. Hugh Crain, will you take a turn with me?” and she curtsied to the statue. “I believe he's going to accept,” Eleanor said, taking an involuntary step backward. “Don't let him tread on your toes,” the doctor said, and laughed. “Remember what happened to Don Juan.” Theodora touched the statue timidly, putting her finger against the
sporting prints of the game room. The nursery, larger than the other bedrooms, had an indefinable air of neglect found nowhere else in Hill House, and it crossed Eleanor's mind that even Mrs. Dudley's diligent care might not bring her across that cold barrier any oftener than necessary. Luke had stepped back across the cold spot and was examining the hall carpet, then the walls, patting at the surfaces as though hoping to discover some cause for the odd cold. “It couldn't be a draft,” he said,
boy and girl, and they talked to one another softly and gently, and once the little girl turned and regarded Eleanor with frank curiosity and, after a minute, smiled. The lights from the stream below touched the ceiling and the polished tables and glanced along the little girl's curls, and the little girl's mother said, “She wants her cup of stars.” Eleanor looked up, surprised; the little girl was sliding back in her chair, sullenly refusing her milk, while her father frowned and her brother