House of Leaves had a neat story.
Unfortunately, it also had a dreadfully pretenious whiny loser of a narrator in the footnotes who took over the whole damn thing, and whom I devoutedly wanted to shut up, and perhaps be eaten by naked mole rats.
It was like trying to read a decent story--something vaguely Lovecraftian, say, only without the eldritch bits*--that was buried in the liner notes of a bad emo album. You had to dig the interesting story out from under this pathetic and completely unengaging loser.
I have no doubt that this was a brilliant commentary on post-modernism or modern disillusion or descents into madness or something, and that I just wasn't smart enough to get it, but ugh. I just wanted to know what happened with the house! That was actually interesting! The other bit wasn't even good enough to qualify as a trainwreck--I could look away, very easily, and did.
The font thing, the reversed pages, the fact that the word "house" was always blue--these were small potatoes next to the fact that half the book was unbelievably annoying.
If there's a moral, it's that you can get away with weird fonts and formatting if you have a really good reason, but you can't get away with crappy characters.
*Plenty of non-Euclidean bits, though.