The House on the Borderland Quiz Questions and Answers

How do you think you would react if you were suddenly transported to the Plain of Silence, standing under the eerie glow of a ring-shaped red sun?

I’d probably panic, to be honest. That’s a lot to process!
I would try to find my bearings and make sense of the strange environment.
I would be filled with a sense of awe and wonder at the alien landscape.
I’d be terrified, but also a little thrilled at the sheer strangeness of it all.

What makes you most nervous about the swine-things described in the story?

Their grotesque appearance and animalistic savagery.
Their intelligence and cunning, which make them more than just mindless beasts.
The fact that their true nature and motives remain largely unknown.
Their connection to the house and the possibility that they represent a deeper, more ancient evil.

If you were in the narrator’s shoes, would you have stayed in the house despite the strange events, or would you have left immediately?

I would have packed my bags and gotten out of there as soon as things started to get weird.
I might have stayed for a little while out of curiosity, but I would have drawn the line at any physical threat.
I would have been too fascinated to leave, even if it meant facing danger.
Honestly, I probably would have stayed out of sheer stubbornness.

What is your absolute favorite unsettling anecdote from The House on the Borderland?

Pepper’s unexplained injury – it really set the stage for the terrifying events to come.
The tale of the man and the donkeys, hinting at a long history of strange occurrences at the house.
The account of the disappearing house, emphasizing the reality-bending nature of the borderland.
The narrator’s descent into madness as he witnesses the end of the world – it’s both fascinating and terrifying.

How do you think the narrator’s experience in The House on the Borderland changed his view on life?

It shattered his sense of reality and forced him to confront the existence of forces beyond human comprehension.
It deepened his appreciation for the fragility of life and the preciousness of human connection.
It led him to a place of greater understanding and acceptance of the universe’s mysteries.
It broke him completely, leaving him lost in a world of madness and despair.

What’s your idea of what truly lies at the bottom of the pit near the house?

A gateway to another dimension or a realm beyond human understanding.
The lair of an ancient and powerful evil that has haunted the house for centuries.
A source of primal energy that fuels the strange events in the area.
A physical manifestation of the narrator’s own internal fears and anxieties.

If you could ask the narrator of The House on the Borderland one question, what would it be?

What was the most terrifying moment of your entire experience?
Do you think there was any way to escape the creatures and the house’s influence?
Did your love for your wife provide any comfort during your ordeal?
What message do you hope to convey by sharing your story?

How comfortable are you with the idea that there might be forces beyond our understanding at work in the universe?

The thought terrifies me, and I’d rather not dwell on it.
It’s intriguing, but also a bit unsettling. I prefer to focus on what we can understand.
I’m fascinated by the idea! I believe there’s so much more to the universe than we realize.
It’s a certainty in my mind. Humans have barely scratched the surface of what’s truly out there.

Imagine yourself as a character in The House on the Borderland. What role do you think you would play in the unfolding events?

I’d probably be the first one to run away at the first sign of trouble.
I’d try to be the voice of reason, urging caution and a hasty retreat.
I’d be drawn into the mystery, eager to uncover the truth behind the strange occurrences.
I’d probably get caught up in the supernatural chaos and meet a rather unfortunate end.

What aspect of The House on the Borderland did you find the most unsettling or disturbing?

The graphic descriptions of the swine-things and their attacks.
The slow, creeping dread and atmosphere of impending doom.
The narrator’s descent into madness and his increasingly fragmented perception of reality.
The cosmic horror of the Earth’s destruction and the green star’s overwhelming power.

The narrator mentions an ancient, possibly evil presence in the house. What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you envision this entity?

A shadowy, amorphous figure lurking in the darkest corners of the house.
A malevolent intelligence that whispers tempting promises in the dead of night.
A source of primal fear that preys on the deepest anxieties of those who enter the house.
A being of pure chaos, intent on unraveling the fabric of reality itself.

What did you like about reading or discussing The House on the Borderland?

Sharing theories and interpretations with friends who have also read the book.
Discovering a particularly chilling passage that sent shivers down my spine.
Feeling a sense of awe at the vastness of the cosmos and the mysteries it holds.
Appreciating the book’s ability to tap into our primal fears and challenge our perceptions of reality.

If you could choose any location from The House on the Borderland to visit, which one would you choose and why?

The Plain of Silence, to witness its desolate beauty and the ring-shaped red sun firsthand.
The inside of the house, to uncover its secrets and perhaps catch a glimpse of the creatures.
The Sea of Sleep, hoping for a peaceful moment and a chance to reconnect with lost loved ones.
The edge of the pit, to peer into the abyss and try to comprehend its true nature.

You’re at a party, and someone brings up The House on the Borderland. What’s your go-to anecdote or talking point about the story?

I launch into a dramatic retelling of the swine-thing attack, complete with sound effects.
I try to impress everyone with my knowledge of cosmic horror and Lovecraftian themes.
I steer the conversation towards the book’s deeper meanings and philosophical implications.
I share my own personal interpretation of the ending, leaving everyone even more puzzled.

What causes, topics, interests, etc. are you most passionate about that relate to the themes of cosmic horror or weird fiction?

Exploring the unknown and confronting the limits of human understanding.
Examining the fragility of human existence in the face of vast, indifferent forces.
Delving into the darker aspects of human nature and the terrifying possibilities of the universe.
Seeking out stories that challenge my perceptions of reality and leave me with a lingering sense of unease.

The House on the Borderland touches on the fear of the unknown. What unknown aspect of the universe, in particular, do you find most intriguing or terrifying?

The possibility of encountering hostile alien lifeforms with intelligence far surpassing our own.
The vast emptiness of space and the realization that we are just a tiny speck in an uncaring cosmos.
The potential for the universe to end in a sudden, cataclysmic event that wipes out all life as we know it.
The existence of dimensions beyond our comprehension, where the laws of physics and reality as we understand them no longer apply.

If you could wave a magic wand, what would the perfect ending to The House on the Borderland be?

The narrator finds peace and reunites with his beloved Mary in the afterlife.
The house is destroyed, and the creatures are vanquished, freeing the world from their menace.
The narrator discovers a way to reverse the apocalyptic events and save humanity from destruction.
The ending remains ambiguous, leaving the reader to ponder the mysteries of the borderland.

How do you feel about the narrator’s decision to stay in the house, even after experiencing terrifying visions and encountering the creatures?

I think it was foolish and reckless, putting himself and potentially others in danger.
I understand his curiosity, but I believe he should have prioritized his safety and left.
I admire his bravery and determination to confront the unknown, even at great personal risk.
I sympathize with his desire to stay connected to the memory of his lost love, even in a place of danger.

What’s your favorite piece of imagery or symbolism from The House on the Borderland?

The ring-shaped red sun: Symbolizing the alien and unsettling nature of the borderland.
The pit: Representing the unknowable depths of the universe and the primal fears that dwell within us.
The swine-things: Embodying the bestial side of human nature and the ever-present threat of chaos.
The green star: Signifying the indifferent power of the cosmos and the inevitability of change and destruction.

Tell us a little about your personal interpretation of the ending of The House on the Borderland. What do you think it all means?

It’s a cautionary tale about the dangers of seeking forbidden knowledge and the price of confronting the unknown.
It’s a meditation on the nature of reality and the limitations of human perception, leaving the reader with more questions than answers.
It’s a testament to the enduring power of love and hope, even in the face of overwhelming darkness and despair.
It’s a nihilistic vision of the universe, suggesting that humanity is ultimately insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

You have a choice of receiving a message from either the narrator or one of the swine-things. Which do you choose, and why?

The narrator, in the hopes that he can provide some insight into the nature of the borderland and how to survive it.
The swine-thing, driven by a morbid curiosity to understand its motives and its connection to the house.

What happened in the past when you first discovered the genre of cosmic horror?

I was immediately captivated by its ability to evoke a sense of dread and wonder in equal measure.
I initially found it disturbing but ultimately couldn’t resist its allure.
I was drawn to its exploration of the unknown and the unsettling truths it reveals about humanity’s place in the universe.
I dismissed it as too bizarre or unsettling, but eventually came to appreciate its unique brand of horror.

Someone asks you, “Have you ever read anything truly unsettling?” and you immediately think of The House on the Borderland. What’s the actual answer you give them?

Have I ever? Let me tell you about this book called The House on the Borderland…
Oh, absolutely. There’s this book…it’s called The House on the Borderland…that still haunts me.
You ever read cosmic horror? No? Well, there’s this book…
Yes, as a matter of fact. Ever heard of The House on the Borderland?

A specific situation arises where you find yourself in an old, abandoned house that reminds you of the one from the book. How do you react?

I get out of there as quickly as possible, thanking my lucky stars I didn’t venture any further.
I cautiously explore, but I’m ready to bolt at the slightest noise or strange occurrence.
I’m filled with a mixture of fear and excitement, eager to uncover any secrets the house might hold.
I start boarding up the windows and doors, determined to fortify the place and make my stand.

What keeps you up at night about the concepts and themes presented in The House on the Borderland?

The possibility that our understanding of reality is merely an illusion, easily shattered by forces beyond our control.
The knowledge that the universe is indifferent to our existence and that humanity’s time is ultimately finite.
The fear that there may be malevolent entities lurking in the shadows, waiting for the opportunity to wreak havoc.
The unsettling feeling that we are not alone in the universe and that something far more ancient and powerful might be watching us.

What is your strongest memory from The House on the Borderland?

The vivid descriptions of the Plain of Silence and its haunting beauty.
The palpable terror of the swine-thing attack and the narrator’s desperate fight for survival.
The bittersweet reunion with Mary in the Sea of Sleep, offering a fleeting moment of solace.
The awe-inspiring and terrifying vision of the Earth’s destruction and the green star’s overwhelming power.

What affects you the most when reading cosmic horror?

The realization of humanity’s insignificance in the grand scheme of the universe.
The fear of the unknown and the unsettling possibilities that exist beyond our understanding.
The exploration of the darker aspects of human nature and the fragility of our sanity.
The haunting imagery and atmosphere that stay with me long after I’ve finished reading.

What is your absolute favorite aspect of cosmic horror?

Its ability to evoke a sense of awe and wonder, even in the face of terror.
Its exploration of the unknown and the unsettling truths it reveals about our place in the universe.
Its rejection of traditional horror tropes in favor of something far stranger and more existentially terrifying.
Its ability to make me question my own sanity and the nature of reality itself.

How would your friends and family describe your taste in books, especially given your appreciation for The House on the Borderland?

They love anything creepy and unsettling. The weirder, the better.
They have a taste for the macabre and a fascination with the darker side of literature.
They’re drawn to stories that challenge their perceptions and leave them thinking long after they’ve finished reading.
They have a strong stomach for horror, that’s for sure.

If you could choose any creature from myth or fiction to add to The House on the Borderland, which one would you choose and why?

A shoggoth from Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos, adding another layer of cosmic horror.
A wendigo from Algonquian folklore, embodying the isolation and primal fear of the wilderness.
A siren from Greek mythology, luring unsuspecting victims to their doom with their enchanting voices.
A mimic from Dungeons & Dragons, adding an element of paranoia and distrust to every interaction.

How well do you think you could maintain your sanity if you were to experience the events of The House on the Borderland firsthand?

Not well at all, I’d probably lose it pretty quickly.
I’d like to think I could hold it together, but there’s no way to know for sure.
I’m fairly resilient, so I think I would be able to cope, even if it took a toll.
I’m pretty sure I could handle it. I’ve always been able to detach myself from unsettling situations.

What happens if, while exploring a remote house similar to the one in the book, you discover a hidden passage leading down into the earth?

Turn back immediately, no question about it. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say.
I might shine a light down there, but I wouldn’t dare go any closer.
I’d cautiously proceed, armed and alert for any signs of danger.
I’d dive headfirst into the unknown, eager to uncover the secrets hidden below.

How prepared do you think you are, mentally and emotionally, to handle a sudden shift in your perception of reality, like the one experienced by the narrator?

I honestly don’t think I could handle it. My worldview is pretty set.
I’d be shaken, but I’d try to adapt and make sense of the new reality.
I’m surprisingly open-minded, so I think I would be able to adjust relatively well.
I’m always up for a challenge, and a shift in reality sounds terrifyingly intriguing.

How often do you seek out books, movies, or other forms of media that explore themes of cosmic horror or existential dread?

Not very often, I prefer more lighthearted fare.
Occasionally, when I’m in the mood for something dark and thought-provoking.
Fairly often, I’m drawn to the unsettling nature of cosmic horror.
All the time. I’m a huge fan of the genre.

How confident are you in your ability to distinguish between reality and delusion if you were to find yourself in a situation similar to the narrator’s?

Not very confident, I’m easily influenced by my surroundings and imagination.
I’d like to think I could stay grounded, but I know how easily fear can distort perception.
I’m generally good at staying objective, so I think I’d be able to differentiate between what’s real and what’s not.
I’m very confident in my ability to discern reality from illusion. I have a strong sense of self and a firm grasp on reality.

How do you handle the fear and anxiety that can arise from confronting the unknown or contemplating the vastness of the cosmos?

I try to avoid thinking about it altogether, as it tends to overwhelm me.
I acknowledge my fear, but I also find ways to ground myself in the present moment.
I embrace the fear as a natural response to the unknown and use it as fuel for creativity.
I don’t really experience fear or anxiety in those situations. I find it exhilarating to ponder the mysteries of the universe.

How well do you think you could stick to your convictions and maintain a sense of self if faced with the kinds of cosmic horrors depicted in The House on the Borderland?

I’m not sure I would be able to hold onto my beliefs if confronted with such overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
I’d try to stay true to myself, but I know that such experiences can be profoundly disorienting.
I have a strong sense of self, so I believe I would be able to weather the storm and emerge relatively unscathed.
I’m constantly evolving and questioning my beliefs, so I welcome any experience that challenges my worldview.

Which of the following is most accurate when it comes to your ability to compartmentalize and move on from disturbing experiences, particularly those involving elements of the supernatural?

I tend to dwell on things and have a hard time letting go of unsettling thoughts or images.
It takes me a while, but I can usually rationalize things and move on eventually.
I’m quite good at compartmentalizing. I can acknowledge something as disturbing but not let it consume me.
I thrive on those kinds of experiences. They fuel my creativity and inspire me to explore the darker side of life.

To what degree do you experience existential dread or a sense of insignificance when contemplating the vastness and indifference of the cosmos as depicted in The House on the Borderland?

Quite often, It’s a recurring thought that I struggle with.
Sometimes, especially when I’m feeling overwhelmed by life’s challenges.
Rarely, I prefer to focus on the beauty and wonder of the universe.
Never, I find the concept liberating and empowering.

Which of these best describes your current relationship with fear, especially as it relates to the themes of cosmic horror and the unknown?

I try to avoid it at all costs, as it tends to paralyze me.
I acknowledge it as a natural human emotion but try not to let it control me.
I embrace it as a source of inspiration and a reminder of the vastness and mystery of existence.
I don’t really experience fear in that context. I find the unknown more intriguing than frightening.

What is your current biggest challenge when it comes to expanding your understanding of cosmic horror as a genre?

Finding the time to delve deeper into the genre and explore its many facets.
Overcoming my initial fear and resistance to confronting the unsettling themes it explores.
Developing a more nuanced understanding of its history, key authors, and literary techniques.
Connecting with other fans and finding a community where I can discuss and dissect these stories.

What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you encounter a work of fiction that blurs the lines between reality and delusion, like The House on the Borderland?

How much of what I’m reading is real, and how much is a product of the narrator’s imagination?
What are the deeper meanings and themes the author is trying to convey through this disorienting narrative?
How would I react if I were thrust into a similar situation, where the lines between sanity and madness become blurred?
Bring on the weirdness! I’m here for the mind-bending ride.

How do you handle the emotional and psychological after-effects of reading a particularly disturbing or thought-provoking book like The House on the Borderland?

I often need time to process what I’ve read and decompress before moving on to something lighter.
I usually discuss my thoughts and feelings with a friend or fellow reader to gain a different perspective.
I use it as an opportunity for introspection and self-reflection, considering how the story has challenged my worldview.
I move on to the next unsettling book on my list, eager for another dose of existential dread.

How would you describe your relationship to the idea of there being forces beyond our comprehension, as suggested in The House on the Borderland?

I find it terrifying and try not to think about it too much.
I acknowledge its possibility but prefer to focus on what we can understand.
I’m fascinated by the idea and enjoy exploring it through fiction and speculation.
I’m certain that such forces exist. Humanity’s understanding of the universe is far too limited to assume otherwise.

Are you stuck in a pattern of only reading one specific type of horror, or do you venture out and explore other genres and authors?

I tend to stick with what I know, but I’m open to recommendations.
I enjoy branching out and trying new things, but I always come back to my favorites.
I actively seek out new and challenging reads, constantly pushing the boundaries of my comfort zone.
I’m a firm believer in exploring the full spectrum of horror, from the classic to the bizarre.

What would you say are your top struggles right now when it comes to fully embracing cosmic horror as a genre?

Overcoming my fear of the unknown and the unsettling themes it explores.
Finding a balance between enjoying the entertainment value and grappling with the deeper philosophical implications.
Distinguishing between genuinely effective cosmic horror and stories that rely too heavily on clichés or shock value.
Avoiding the temptation to compare everything I read to Lovecraft’s work and appreciating each author’s unique voice.

What is your cosmic horror goal?

To expand my knowledge of the genre and explore its many facets.
To confront my fears and develop a greater appreciation for the unsettling beauty of cosmic horror.
To find a community of like-minded individuals who share my passion for the genre.
To write my own cosmic horror stories that evoke a sense of dread and wonder in readers.

What do you think is missing in your quest to become a more experienced reader of cosmic horror?

A deeper understanding of the historical and cultural context in which the genre emerged.
A more critical eye for analyzing the themes, symbolism, and literary techniques employed by cosmic horror writers.
A greater appreciation for the psychological and philosophical underpinnings of the genre.
A willingness to embrace the unknown and confront the unsettling truths that cosmic horror reveals.

A scenario arises where a friend is interested in getting into cosmic horror, and they ask for a recommendation. How do you respond?

I cautiously recommend The House on the Borderland, but warn them about its disturbing content.
I enthusiastically launch into a detailed explanation of the book’s plot, characters, and themes, eager to share my passion.
I provide them with a curated list of cosmic horror classics and modern masterpieces, tailored to their specific tastes.
I invite them to join me for a cosmic horror movie marathon or book club meeting, eager to share my love for the genre.

What descriptive word do you experience most when reading cosmic horror?

Dread
Awe
Curiosity
Exhilaration

Which of the following do you notice yourself worrying about on a day-to-day basis after finishing The House on the Borderland?

The fragility of reality and the possibility that our perception of the world is an illusion.
The existence of malevolent entities beyond our comprehension, lurking just beyond the veil of our reality.
The insignificance of humanity in the face of the vast, indifferent cosmos.
The inevitability of change and the fact that even stars and planets have a lifespan.

How intrigued and terrified do you feel in your approach to the cosmic horror genre?

Very intrigued, slightly terrified
Moderately intrigued, moderately terrified
Extremely intrigued, not at all terrified
Slightly intrigued, very terrified

How well do you balance your enjoyment of horror with your everyday life and responsibilities?

I sometimes struggle to separate fiction from reality, and disturbing stories can linger in my mind.
I generally maintain a healthy balance, indulging in horror as a form of entertainment without letting it consume me.
I seamlessly integrate my love of horror into my everyday life, finding inspiration and creative fuel in the darkest corners of fiction.
Horror is more than just entertainment for me, it’s a lens through which I view the world and grapple with life’s big questions.

Which of the following is most likely to frustrate you when reading a work of cosmic horror?

A story that relies too heavily on clichés or jump scares instead of genuine cosmic dread.
A narrative that fails to provide any sense of closure or resolution, leaving too many unanswered questions.
Characters that make illogical decisions or behave in ways that undermine the story’s tension.
An author who shies away from exploring the truly unsettling implications of their own creations.

What is the trickiest part about understanding the appeal of cosmic horror?

Reconciling the enjoyment of fear and discomfort with the desire for entertainment.
Grasping the complex philosophical and psychological themes often embedded within the genre.
Distinguishing between effective cosmic horror that evokes genuine dread and stories that are merely weird or gross.
Finding a balance between appreciating the genre’s roots in Lovecraft’s work while also embracing more modern interpretations.

Do you find yourself more drawn to the existential dread of cosmic horror or the visceral scares of more traditional horror stories?

Existential dread, all the way.
A healthy mix of both.
I prefer my horror with a side of cosmic dread.
Give me all the gore and jump scares!

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