Book Review #31 - Rebecca

"Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderley again."

Considered one of the most famous lines in literature, I confess I had never heard of it before. While I understand the emotion contained in the line, I think a more accurate first line would have been, "Last night, I dreamt of Rebecca again." This is, after all, a story about the people who obsess about Rebecca: Mrs. Danvers, Max de Winter and the narrator.

A woman narrator, who never acknowledges her own name (symbolically), withdraws into the shadow of her husband's first dynamic wife, the great Rebecca, who tragically drowned. Throughout the book, the second Mrs. de Winter interprets her husband's occasional melancholy and detachedness as somehow her fault - causing her to revert back into her own natural timidity and awkwardness in an environment where such qualities are regarded with disdain and impatience - particularly by Manderley's housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers.

I felt impatient with this second Mrs. de Winter too. What was her problem? "Just be yourself!" I wanted to shout while shaking her by the shoulders. After all, it was her own personality that shined when she met Max de Winters, the man she claimed to love, although I have to admit that I never personally felt their connection. To me, he was kind of a creepy, mysterious old guy.

He turned even more creepy and mysterious when he brought his young bride to his beloved Manderley. From day one, he left her out of his intimate world and somehow expected her to handle the dramatic change from being a hired companion to a wealthy woman to being mistress of a wealthy English estate all on her own. The unnamed character is thus left alone and uninformed to solve the clues left for her: What was Rebecca like? How did she die? Why did her husband marry her if she was clearly nothing like this great woman?

A-ha! A revelation I did not see coming makes sense of it all and then it turned into a book I didn't enjoy quite as much. I had liked the young woman's confusion and insecurity, even though I would find such behavior in real life irriating. I was enjoying du Maurier's depiction of the power of influence and the dangers of comparison.

Rebecca was the best developed character even though she was dead throughout the entire book. I knew what she looked like, how she acted, what her motivations were and her flaws and talents. I even knew what dresses were included in her wardrobe and the kinds of menus she planned. Max de Winter's character was poorly developed. The reason for his initial infatuation and subsequent behavior is rashly explained. As a result, when the novel needed the readers to care about protecting him and ultimately grieving over his great loss, I found myself unmoved. It seems to me that du Maurier counted on the drama being sensational enough so that we readers wouldn't notice the discrepancy between his cool and detached personality and his confusing and erratic behavior. Mrs Danvers, on the other hand, was satisfyingly scary.

An entertaining enough read, but the plot's collapse keeps it out of my own "great books" category.