Dolors's Reviews > Rebecca
Rebecca
by
by
Sign into ŷ to see if any of your friends have read
Rebecca.
Sign In »
Quotes Dolors Liked
Reading Progress
Started Reading
March 14, 2003
–
Finished Reading
March 19, 2013
– Shelved
Comments Showing 1-28 of 28 (28 new)
date
newest »

message 1:
by
Lynne
(new)
-
rated it 5 stars
Jun 02, 2013 09:07AM

reply
|
flag

I have always related the way Du Maurier treated the nameless narrator and Rebecca's omnipresence to her own biased personality. It's like deep inside Du Maurier was attracted to Rebecca's style of life while she was caged away in the monotony of real life. And as if leaving the poor mundane narrator nameless she stated where the real appeal was. Debauchery, madness and lust?
Maybe reading too much into it, might be the effects of your sensuous last Ducornet's review! :)



But then again, after reading your brilliant reviews since then, are you going to change that statement in this review? That's the challenge!

HA!! I won't Kevin, I was spurred in the heat of the moment when I wrote that unworthy note on Du Maurier's masterpiece! :))


Just read your review, thanks for making me relive the story. I should probably re-read it myself!

I looked at this book on my shelves through the years, never wanted to part with it, always had the intention of going back to it. It was a very good decision, indeed.

Do write a longer review Dolors! You would shine with a review.
Hi Dolors. I have been reading "The Makioka Sisters" and noticed how many widowers Yukiko rejected, in part, because they had endured the death of a wife. These men are considered damaged goods because they had been previously married yet, through no fault of their own, were now alone. That got me thinking about this famous book about the heavy presence of the dead first wife, and how the heroine herself seems fixated on her. (I had seen the famous Hitchcock film many years ago but I have never read the book. Thus my general awareness of the issues.) I see that you were highly enthused about the book, and you seem to speak for about 50 of our GR friends who have shown near-unanimity in raving about this book, so I decided to order this tonight. (Doubtless, it will sit on my shelf for a while, but I will eventually dream of Manderlay and wonder what effect it might have on me.)

I feel that the book was superior to the film as the acting was rather stiff but then that was the style in those days, with the clipped accents.
Also the film did not follow the exact vein of the book regarding the previous wife Rebecca.

Steve, as per usual, you bring up common aspects of truly disparate reads and connect them aptly. I'd just add that, contrarily to the dead wives in the MS, Rebecca is a hauting presence for the nameless narrator and a source of disturbing attraction in the story, maybe even a unpremeditated metaphor for Du Maurier's own struggles in her tempestuous love life (my own unscholarly opinion) I am ecstatic to hear you bought this Gothic tale and I hope you don't find it disappointing after having raved about it so openly and shamelessly around the page! Whatever the case, thanks for sharing your perceptive thoughts here, my friend.

Steve, as per usual, you bring up common aspects of truly disparate reads and connect them aptly. I'd just add that, contrarily to the dead wives in the MS, Rebecca is a hauting presence for the nameless narrator and a source of disturbing attraction in the story, maybe even a unpremeditated metaphor for Du Maurier's own struggles in her tempestuous love life (my own unscholarly opinion) I am ecstatic to hear you bought this Gothic tale and I hope you don't find it disappointing after having raved about it so openly and shamelessly around the page! Whatever the case, thanks for sharing your perceptive thoughts here, my friend.




*The joke concerns twin boys of five or six. Worried that the boys had developed extreme personalities -- one was a total pessimist, the other a total optimist -- their parents took them to a psychiatrist.
First the psychiatrist treated the pessimist. Trying to brighten his outlook, the psychiatrist took him to a room piled to the ceiling with brand-new toys. But instead of yelping with delight, the little boy burst into tears. "What's the matter?" the psychiatrist asked, baffled. "Don't you want to play with any of the toys?" "Yes," the little boy bawled, "but if I did I'd only break them."
Next the psychiatrist treated the optimist. Trying to dampen his out look, the psychiatrist took him to a room piled to the ceiling with horse manure. But instead of wrinkling his nose in disgust, the optimist emitted just the yelp of delight the psychiatrist had been hoping to hear from his brother, the pessimist. Then he clambered to the top of the pile, dropped to his knees, and began gleefully digging out scoop after scoop with his bare hands. "What do you think you're doing?" the psychiatrist asked, just as baffled by the optimist as he had been by the pessimist. "With all this manure," the little boy replied, beaming, "there must be a pony in here somewhere!"
"Reagan told the joke so often," Ed Meese said, chuckling, "that it got to be kind of a joke with the rest of us. Whenever something would go wrong, somebody on the staff would be sure to say, 'There must be a pony in here somewhere.'"
.

Heh mark, great story you shared here, thanks for elaborating a bit about the origin of the expression, you had me smiling from the first sentence and reminded me of some popular jokes we used to crack among my peers quite a few years ago, when I was barely a teenager.
Even so...I am afraid that if you haven't found the pony 66% into the novel there is not much chance that you'll be riding with Du Maurier's Gothic story. It's a classic thriller, subdued, mysterious and "quiet" in the sense that much of what goes on happens in the mind of the nameless narrator (and of the reader, of course), who remains a shadow of the true protagonist, the ever-present Rebecca. Somehow, it reminded me of Henry Jame's novella The Turn of the Screw, where the setting and the pace of the storytelling are more important than the action that actually takes place.
It might not work for all the readers, I can only say that it caused a deep impression in my younger self when I read it. I wonder what I'd make of it today as I have matured and evolved as a reader. I do think though that I'd still feel its allure, same happened with Jane Eyre when I re-read it recently, I think certain works stand the test of time and these might be a couple of those titles for me.
I'll check to see you finally make of it...

That seems th common experience: fondness and deep impression at a young age.
I’m no longer young, but I am here for th � Debauchery, madness and lust� you promised Lynne above! 🥳 Thanks for such a thoughtfilled reply Dolors!
I’m on th backstretch of th book now. Mee and my saddle� m

uuuhhh...you might end up racing a bit after all, mark! ;P