A haunting exploration of trauma, grief, and history through the lens of haunted houses. Taylor blends psychological horror with deep introspection, creating a chilling and thought-provoking read

Leila Taylor's Sick Houses is a whirlwind scholarly journey through one of my favorite topics: haunted houses. Mixing horror films, horror literature, and real life examples, Taylor talks about houses that are metaphorically or literally haunted. Her real world examples include murder houses and other buildings with off-putting architecture, where the 'haunting' is our lingering knowledge of what happened there or just a bad feeling about the place. The book is a quick and wide-ranging read and Taylor wears her erudition lightly. Her prose is readable and lively, and I finished this book in just two sittings.

I think this book would be great for fans of other pop-scholarly books about the paranormal, including Colin Dickey's work. I definitely enjoyed it, though I felt that it was at times too wide-ranging. Rather than quickly jumping from example to example, I wanted her to dig a little more into the topic of each chapter. That said, I still enjoyed and recommend this book, and I definitely expanded my TBR and to-watch list while reading it.

Thanks to the publisher and to NetGalley for an early copy of this book.

n Sick Houses: Haunted Homes and the Architecture of Dread, author Leila Taylor delves into the unsettling intersection of domestic spaces and horror, examining how homes—symbols of safety and comfort—can transform into vessels of fear and dread. This comprehensive study traverses various architectural forms, from modest family dwellings to imposing brutalist structures, exploring their roles in both real-life and fictional narratives of hauntings and psychological unrest.

Taylor organizes her exploration thematically, with chapters such as "Brutal Houses," "Witch Houses," "Mad Houses," and "Forever Houses," each dissecting different facets of how architecture can embody and evoke terror. She seamlessly blends cultural analysis with personal reflection, offering insights into how societal issues of class, race, and gender influence our perceptions of haunted spaces. Her informal yet incisive prose makes complex concepts accessible, engaging readers in a dialogue about the deeper implications of what makes a house "sick."

One of the book's strengths lies in its multidisciplinary approach. Taylor draws from a rich tapestry of sources, including literature, film, television, and historical accounts, to illustrate how the concept of the haunted house permeates various aspects of culture. She examines iconic structures like the Amityville house and the Winchester Mystery House, as well as lesser-known edifices, to uncover the universal themes that make these stories resonate. Her analysis extends beyond the physical structures to consider the psychological and emotional landscapes that render these spaces haunting.

Overall, Sick Houses is a compelling addition to the discourse on horror and architecture. Leila Taylor's insightful examination challenges readers to reconsider their perceptions of domestic spaces and the latent fears they may harbor. This book is a must-read for enthusiasts of horror literature, cultural studies, and architectural theory, offering a fresh perspective on the places we call home and the unseen forces that may reside within them.

All in all, a thorough book covering a variety of different homes and occupants - spectral and otherwise. I appreciated that there were a good deal of modern films, and non English ones as well. I think this would be well enjoyed by fans of The Faculty Of Horror.

Sick Houses is an examination of the haunted house, but is not limited to the horror sub-genre. The haunted house is a reference point for the examination of the uncanny in lived space, or the representations of lived space, such as with a dollhouse.

As is usual with a book like this, the quality of the chapters varies, but I found it stronger than most. The strongest is on formal architecture and haunting as a part of the city, specifically the designed city. The weakest is the one on the concept of the Witch's house, which has interesting reference points but has trouble relating to the core concept. In general, the chapter weaknesses are in the forest, not the trees, with the individual concepts studied with care and profundity the spine not working to connect them.

The book has the right amount of personality. It includes authorial commentary and lived experience, which accelerates the already readable into the unique. In reading this, I started to wonder about this in comparison to the times I have read an author doing something similar, but where I disliked it. I think that there are two distinctions, the lesser being that the author writes with humor, or the right balance of humor to seriousness. The important one is that it fits the material. The special quality of the haunted house is the invasion of the interior world. It is about violation, even if Aristotle-style the violation is unintended. And that invasion is into the the most ordinary: the domestic versus the extraordinary. The author's comments, stories, and narrative fulfill a similar duty. A text about hauntings that is itself haunted.

The complaint here is spoilers. I would make this blink Geocities-style if I could, so let me be plain: THIS BOOK IS FULL OF SPOILERS. SERIOUSLY, THEY ARE EVERYWHERE. DO NOT READ IF YOU WANT AN INTRODUCTION TO THE HAUNTED HOUSE GENRE. Or at least be prepared to skip a few paragraphs now and again.

This ought to be obvious. You cannot do work like this without including the facts of narrative. I did not complain about this for books doing the same with Jane Eyre or Moby Dick. However, the media here often relies on the twist or other surprise. So you are warned.

I would also mention how much is not covered that could be. I could list works that I wish were included, because I want to see how the author would apply her theories to them, but the scope of the project is such that this is okay. And while the reason why is discussed in the introduction, the book is restricted in terms of its discussions about race. The explanation is persuasive, but I also suspect that it will be a point of criticism.

Ridley Scott referred to his movie Alien as a haunted house movie in space, which never made sense to me. If anything it is a workplace drama, premised on the confines of the ship like a house, sure, but its look is unfamiliar to us and the matter at hand is much more invasive in character. And if that is the sort of thing that you like to think about, you will love this book.

My thanks to the author, Leila Taylor, for writing the book and to the publisher, Repeater Books, for making the ARC available to me.

A pop-culture history of the haunted house as a concept, Taylor's book discusses novels, movies, and real-life spooky houses. If you like horror or other forms of spooky stuff, this book is a must-read to dive into all of the symbolism and the variety between types of spooky houses. I found this a very enjoyable read.

Unfortunately, this was a DNF at 10%. I liked the concept of this book, but I wasn’t drawn into the actual book itself, and found the writing to be dry.

*Sick Houses, Haunted Homes, and the Architecture of Dread* isn’t just about haunted houses—it’s about how homes themselves can embody dread, decay, and trauma. Taylor digs into the idea that a house doesn’t need ghosts to feel haunted; history, neglect, and societal pressures can turn any space toxic. The writing is sharp and thoughtful, blending personal reflections with cultural analysis. I loved how Taylor connected horror tropes to real-world issues like gentrification and displacement, making the book feel relevant and unsettling in a completely different way. It’s part memoir, part cultural critique, and part deep dive into the psychology of place, all wrapped up in moody, evocative prose.
If you enjoy horror, architecture, or social commentary, it’s definitely worth a read.

This book was very interesting and I loved the discussion regarding the uncanny and the home as an unsafe figure. I will be buying my own physical copy of this text for study and scholarship. Will be using it as a source in my own scholarship. Very comprehensive.

As a child, one of my deepest desires was to move into a house with a secret room. A secret staircase, a secret library. It hasn’t happened (YET) but the fantasy continues to play out throughout my dreams.
Reading Sick Houses reminded me of these dreams. Leila Taylor calls back to my nostalgic fear of the dark hallways of my childhood homes while also discussing fantastical homes that definitely have secret rooms. This book traces the origins of haunted houses from fiction to real life, from grotesquely oversized to miniature. Sick Houses is exquisitely well-researched while maintaining an fun, engaging tone that draws you ever deeper.
I enjoyed the author’s personal commentary throughout the book. For the record, we share the same opinion on surviving the apocalypse.
And one of my very favorite parts is that I finished this book feeling as though I had learned so much. I stopped every few pages to search for more information about the houses Taylor mentions.
I hope this book becomes a renowned work on haunted houses. It deserves it.

5/5 dollhouses

Thank you Netgalley for the opportunity to review this book!

4/5

This was a really fun and interesting look into various types of haunted houses. I liked the categorization of the homes, how we perceive what a haunted house is and all sorts of examples of each from books, movies, myths and other sources.

Some stories and homes I was familiar with, others not as much, and honestly the look into all of them was great. I also enjoyed the extra commentary by the author on how she herself perceives haunted homes and what makes a house.

Overall I enjoyed it a lot and will be using it as a great reference for various types of stories based on interesting homes.

Sick Houses by Leila Taylor is a nonfiction book that’s all about the spookiness of houses and how the horror genre often twists our idea of home. It starts by reminding us that every good horror story is rooted in a house, whether it's the infamous Amityville or the eerie Winchester.
Then it looks at different types of homes like old Victorian mansions, and cozy cottages and shows how they can be turned into scary settings in movies, TV shows, and books. It also highlights the idea of the "witch house" and the ‘fear’ surrounding older women living alone.

Overall, it takes a fresh and cool look at how horror uses the concept of the home against us. I thought it was a fun read, full of nostalgic tidbits about some of my favourite scary houses.

I'm not a big reader of non-fiction titles but one sure way to suck me in to give me a supernatural subject matter. When I saw this book pop up on Netgalley, I knew it was one I wanted to check out and I'm glad I did.

Sick Houses analyzes houses of all kinds. The chapters are broken down into specific categories and include American Houses, Dead Houses, Doll Houses, and Witch Houses to name a few. The author has definitely completed the necessary research and used examples and references from houses featured in horror movies, houses built by renowned (and sometimes odd) architects, houses lived in by famous killers and television shows such as The Twilight Zone. This was a definite plus for both a pop culture and true crime junkie like me. I learned a lot about what really makes a home evil and why haunted house intrigue so many of us. In fact, the author basically states that since our home is supposed to be our safe place and our second bodies, haunted house become the most intimate kind of horror.

My only complaint was at times this book read a little bit TOO much like a textbook. But even so, it was the best kind of textbook in my opinion (kind of the like the summer in college when I took Deviant Behavior and Abnormal Psychology back-to-back for four hours each morning and became good friends with the guy ranting about cutting his ex-girlfriend up into "itty bitty pieces." Don't worry, he was weird but harmless). Sick Houses contains photos and movie shots, and I added a few older movies I had never heard of but now want to see to my watchlist.

If topics like this interest you, then you definitely want to pick this book up. The author also has another book out Darkly: Black History and America's Gothic Soul that I also want to pick up eventually.

"Who does the house belong to—the family that just moved in, or the dead who never left?"

In just over 230 pages, Leila Taylor takes us on a journey through horror books and films, all connected by a common element: the house, in all its forms, as a constant presence.

What is a house—our house? It is supposed to be the place where we feel safest in the world, where we are at our most vulnerable, and having that sense of security ripped away is both traumatizing and terrifying. From this concept, the author explores how the house itself has shaped horror, from ancient times to modernity.

From architecture to history, we embark on a fascinating journey where myths and legends are deconstructed in a tone that occasionally made me laugh. I loved reading about Sarah Winchester and the true (non-haunted) history of her house.

"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."

Despite the constant spoilers about various horror films, I really enjoyed the way Leila Taylor approached the subject, her reflections, and how something as simple as miniature houses or bunkers can have such a profound impact on horror, becoming characters in their own right.

An excellent read for nonfiction fans, where cinema, horror, and architecture intertwine with plenty of good laughs along the way.

"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."

The synopsis for this book intrigued me from the start, can houses or buildings where murders or other evils take place be 'infected' by the acts that takes place within? The author looks at several different types of buildings including tower blocks, shacks, dolls houses, & even miniature dioramas of crime scenes, using the medium of popular culture (tv, film, & books). Are these places 'haunted' or is just our imagination that supplies the feeling of wrongness when we know the history?

I really enjoyed the section on the crime scene 'Nutshell' dioramas created by Frances Glessner Lee who became known as the 'Mother of Forensics'. That sent me down a rabbit hole on the internet! I was not entirely convinced by the author using so many fictional places from films though, I find that real-life places are always more eerie to read about. Analysis was also rather surface rather than detailed, & overall although it was an illuminating read, I didn't find it as interesting as I initially thought I would. 3.25 stars (rounded down)

My thanks to NetGalley & publishers, Repeater Books, for the opportunity to read an ARC.

Sick Houses: Haunted Homes and the Architecture of Dread by Leila Taylor was a fascinating look at infamous homes, both fictional and real. I absolutely loved this book! Her selection of architecturally interesting homes makes reading the book seem like time spent with a friend over drinks or brunch. She is informative without being stuffy. The photographs peppered throughout the text help contextualize the structures about which she is writing. The entire book kept me riveted and I especially enjoyed the final chapter about her own “sick house” experience. Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers for providing an ARC for this book in return for my honest review.

I really enjoyed this deep dive into different types of "unhomely" houses with chapters that explore everything from witch houses, to prepper bunkers, to serial killer's homes. This is well-researched and the author draws from a number of relevant classic and contemporary theoretical texts, especially in the setup chapter, to explore the meaning of "home" and how "home" is different from a house. At the same time, this does not read like a traditional academic text. The author uses a very conversational and accessible voice that is both entertaining and informative. I was familiar with most of the films and books referenced and it was nice to see some newer works like Piranesi and Hereditary covered. Surprisingly for me, my favourite sections were those that explored real world homes and art. The chapter exploring miniatures was especially interesting!

Thanks for the ARC!

Leila Taylor's Sick Houses is an engrossing dive into the way homes, usually symbols of safety, can turn into sources of unease and terror. She weaves together real-life examples-like the chilling history of the Unabomber's cabin-with classic haunted house narratives to explore how our domestic spaces can hold darker meanings. I especially appreciated her insight into the contradictions of the American Dream, showing how the ideal of homeownership can sometimes trap rather than free us. Taylor also touches on the societal perceptions of women living alone, which added an interesting layer to her argument. It's a smart, thought-provoking read for anyone fascinated by the darker corners of domestic life.

Leila Taylor’s Sick Houses is a thought-provoking exploration of the intersection between architecture, domestic spaces, and the horror genre. Equal parts cultural critique and haunted-house manifesto, this book dissects the unsettling ways in which homes—symbols of safety and comfort—become loci of fear, dread, and even evil.

Taylor’s thesis is simple yet striking: horror begins at home. Through an analysis of iconic locations like the Amityville Horror house, Gothic mansions, and even real-life spaces like the Unabomber’s cabin, Taylor reveals how architecture can reflect societal anxieties and personal traumas. The book blends academic rigor with an accessible narrative voice, making it as engaging as it is insightful.

What makes Sick Houses stand out is Taylor’s interdisciplinary approach. Drawing from film, television, literature, and even real-world events, she crafts a compelling narrative that examines how the very design and purpose of domestic spaces can be subverted to inspire terror. Whether it’s the suffocating corridors of a suburban home or the sprawling decay of a Gothic estate, Taylor unpacks why these spaces feel so deeply unsettling.

The book’s strength lies in its ability to connect the uncanny nature of haunted houses to broader themes of cultural history and psychology. Taylor delves into how societal expectations of the home as a “safe haven” are corrupted by horror narratives, forcing readers to confront the darker underbelly of domestic life. The analysis is as much about our collective fears as it is about the architecture itself, making the book resonate on multiple levels.

Taylor’s writing is sharp, evocative, and occasionally poetic, drawing readers into the eerie ambiance of the spaces she describes. The book is rich with examples from pop culture, such as The Haunting of Hill House and The Shining, making it a treasure trove for horror fans. However, Taylor also moves beyond fiction, addressing how real-life tragedies transform homes into symbols of horror, further blurring the line between reality and narrative.

Sick Houses is not just a book about haunted spaces—it’s a meditation on why we’re drawn to them, what they say about us, and how they force us to confront our deepest fears. For fans of horror, architecture, or cultural analysis, this is a must-read. Taylor has created a work that is as unsettling as it is illuminating, making us question whether the walls around us are truly as benign as they seem.

What is it about haunted houses that captures our imagination? Taylor examines this phenomenon through the lens of houses in popular media.

This was a really fascinating examination into what turns a home into a haunted house, from interior and exterior architecture, to landscape context, to the decay from lack of upkeep.

While it was really interesting reading descriptions of these houses, with photographs, I did find myself wishing that more time was spent on the real life examples that inspired stories rather than recounting the plot of the movie or tv show.

Basically, this is an excellent starting point for anyone getting interested in learning more about haunted houses.

Thanks to NetGalley and Repeater Books for this arc.