Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier (novel #187)

Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. ~ opening line

 

Rebecca is an early 20^thCentury Gothic novel set mostly in Cornwall England. The title character never appears in the novel, yet she is the central character; morbid, malign, and mysterious. 

 

The unnamed narrator is a 20-something lady’s companion, when she meets a wealthy English widower on holiday in Monte Carlo. After a whirlwind courtship she becomes Mrs. Maxim de Winter, the second Mrs. Maxim de Winter, and the Lady of Manderley.

 

It is the promise of gracious living, a promise quickly broken.

 

The young bride feels out of place and insecure in her new station. She feels like a pet to her worldly husband, simple and foolish to the dignified staff, and miserably intimidated by the overbearing housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers.

 

But more than this, the new Mrs. de Winter learns that Manderley, its staff, and her husband are “haunted” by the late Rebecca de Winter.

 

I was just a bit disappointed in this novel, but I believe it is due more to unfairly high expectations rather than any fault in the story. For one thing I thought it was a ghost story. My mistake, but still a letdown. But more importantly, I’ve read a number of bloggers who love this book, and it just set my expectations very high. If I set aside my preconceptions, I profess the writing is quite beautiful. I felt the story was fascinating, but a bit weak on one, and only one point. I found it unrealistic how quickly and completely the narrator came to terms with her husband’s shocking revelation, and if I believe it, I am rather dismayed by her acceptance of it. 

 

Still, it was a compelling story, marvelously told. This was my first read of du Maurier; And the author’s name is fun to say.

 

My rating 3 1/2 of 5 stars

 

I read this for R.I.P. XVI, and although it wasn’t the ghost story I was expecting, it is a Gothic novel, also sort of a mystery, so it still satisfies the requirements of the challenge. 

 

Excerpts – all by the narrator:

 

I believe there is a theory that men and women emerge finer and stronger after suffering, and that to advance in this or any world we must endure ordeal by fire. 

 

I suppose sooner or later in the life of everyone comes a moment of trial. We all of us have our particular devil who rides us and torments us, and we must give battle in the end.

 

Happiness is not a possession to be prized, it is a quality of thought, a state of mind.

 

…boredom is a pleasing antidote to fear.

 

“If only there could be an invention,” I said impulsively, “that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.”

 

Rebecca, always Rebecca. I should never be rid of Rebecca.

 

I could fight the living, but I could not fight the dead.

 

I was not afraid. I would fight for Maxim. I would lie and perjure and swear, I would blaspheme and pray. Rebecca had not won. Rebecca had lost.

 

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