Rebecca (1938)

"Ontem à noite, sonhei que voltava a Manderley. O caminho até a casa estava tomado por uma selva sombria e tortuosa. A natureza havia dominado, mas a casa ainda estava lá. Manderley. Reservada e silenciosa, como sempre foi. Ressurgida das cinzas." Assim começa "Rebecca", em cujo enredo uma jovem casada com um viúvo milionário se sente perseguida pelas memórias da falecida esposa dele, Rebecca. Mas a origem da história é questionada desde a primeira edição do livro, em 1938. Há diversos elementos em comum com uma obra brasileira, lançada quatro anos antes: "A sucessora", de Carolina Nabuco, filha de Joaquim Nabuco, que se aventurou na ficção ao ter a ideia do conto "O Retrato da primeira esposa", que evoluiu até virar "A sucessora". Conta a história de Marina, uma jovem que vive numa fazenda no interior do Rio de Janeiro. Ela conhece e se apaixona pelo viúvo Roberto, um empresário rico com quem se casa. Ao se mudar para a mansão dele na capital, passa a sentir a pressão das expectativas da sociedade cosmopolita carioca, principalmente por ser constantemente comparada à falecida esposa de Roberto, Alice, cuja memória a parece perseguir. A obra foi elogiada, mas só ficou conhecida 4 anos depois, com o lançamento de "Rebecca". As semelhanças não param nas premissas dos dois livros. A ingenuidade e a origem das protagonistas, as relações que desenvolvem com seus esposos e os ambientes têm muito em comum. No jornal Correio da Manhã, à época, o jornalista Álvaro Lins deu nomes aos bois: para ele, Daphne du Maurier plagiara Carolina Nabuco, a qual concordou com Lins. Em sua autobiografia, a escritora diz acreditar que Daphne du Maurier escreveu "Rebecca" após ler um manuscrito de "A sucessora" em inglês: "Eu havia traduzido o livro com esperança de vê-lo editado nos EUA. Esta tradução foi oferecida — sem êxito — a várias editoras por uma agência literária em Nova York, a quem confiei o manuscrito para esse fim, mediante contrato. Eu havia pedido a esse agente literário que tentasse também encontrar-me um editor na Inglaterra". Depois de ler "Rebecca", a brasileira entrou em contato com o agente literário, perguntando-lhe se tinha enviado o manuscrito para algum editor em Londres. Inicialmente ele respondeu que não. Mas, após as acusações de plágio reverberarem na imprensa internacional, voltou atrás e disse que sim. ( )

Almost 4 stars, 'cept the narrator was really annoying at the first. ( )

After seeing the Hitchcock film of this book years ago, I was interested to read the book...despite a few misgivings about the front-cover tag declaring it "romantic suspense." I really enjoyed the book...though it's one of the least romantic things I've ever read.

In terms of romance, Maxim and the narrator's relationship reminded me a bit of Twilight: creepy, obsessive, infantalizing, and rather conveniently ratcheted up only when Maxim needs his wife to keep his secret. In other words, not romantic at all. With the clarity of feminism, I was able to appreciate how psychologically messed up the whole situation was and watch this magnificent train wreck...and it was, indeed magnificent. The narrator's alternating enjoyment of and discomfort with her new life, and her desperation to make her husband love her, felt so real that I sympathized rather than being impatient (a very tricky feat indeed, though I'm sure I was more forgiving given that the book was written in the 1930s).

The descriptions of the house were beautifully done, if occasionally repetitive (the image of the tree branches forming a chapel-like ceiling was used twice), and I have a very vivid image of Manderly, especially Rebecca's beautiful but distant morning room. I'd like to watch the film again later this week, but I want to give time for the house to sink in--hopefully the movie won't overwrite my imagination.

This particular edition also had a note from the author about how she came to write the book, a short story about a neglected old house, and the original epilogue (a variant of which became the first two chapters). I particularly enjoyed the last, since it gave a view of the writing process...and made me appreciate the rather abrupt end of the book. "Henry's" disability smacked a bit too much of Mr. Rochester for a book that already had overtones of Jane Eyre and the main character's development was too overtly given away.

I'll close on one of the points that interested me most about the book: the narrator's name is never revealed, though Maxim does comment that it is "a lovely and unusual name" (24). Similarly, very little of her extended back story is given beyond the fact that she is an orphan. But it doesn't feel forced or awkward, perhaps because she is so reflective and responsive.

And imaginative. All right, I can't actually close without praising her little flights of fancy. I can appreciate all too well the ups and downs that come with an ability to visualize scenes of what might happen--whether that's the good things that might come to be or a terrible accident. Maybe I felt a bit closer to the narrator for that reason. Not exactly objective, but then, when is reading ever objective?

Quote Roundup

After going overboard on The Night Circus and Fahrenheit 451, I tried to be good and limit myself.

154) If Maxim had been there I should not be lying as I was now, chewing a piece of grass, my eyes shut. I should have been watching him, watching his eyes, his expression. Wondering if he liked it, if he was bored. Wondering what he was thinking. Now I could relax, none of those things mattered. Maxim was in London. How lovely it was to be alone again. No, I did not mean that. It was disloyal, wicket. It was not what I meant. Maxim was my life and my world.
If you're not at least a little bit disturbed by this kind of thinking, these signs of emotional abuse, we probably don't get along very well.

276) The jig-saw pieces came together piece by piece, and the real Rebecca took shape and form before me, stepping from her shadow world like a living figure from a picture frame. Rebecca slashing at her horse; Rebecca seizing life with her two hands; Rebecca, triumphant, leaning down from the minstrels' gallery with a smile on her lips.
The only reason I backed down from being convinced that Maxim was completely making up Rebecca's villainy was the hints of it along the way: cruelty to the horse, to Ben. I'm still not entirely swayed. Whipping a horse into shape wasn't unheard of, and it's possible that Favell was the one who told Ben he'd be put in an asylum. Some reading of criticism is in order, I think. Wonder if Norton has a Critical Edition?

388, Author’s Note) I continue to receive letters from all over the world asking me … why did I never give the heroine a Christian name? The answer…is simple: I could not think of one, and it became a challenge to technique, the easier because I was writing in the first person.
I remember the days when I would have accepted this as the end of the story. Ah, the death of the author… Interpretation will not be hemmed in!

396, “The House of Secrets”) Here was a block of stone, even as the desert Sphinx, made by man for his own purpose—yet she had a personality that was hers alone, without the touch of human hand. One family only had lived within her walls. One family who had given her life. They had been born there, they had loved, they had quarreled, they had suffered, they had died. And out of those emotions she had woven a personality for herself, she had become what their thoughts and their desires had made her. ( )

...wait for it...wait for it...wait for it...wait for it...wait for it...wait for it...and there we go...

This was my reaction while reading Rebecca. Honestly, I think this novel was painfully slow to get into. I wanted to give up and read something else. It was boring mostly until the spoiler happens. Than everything picks up from there and thing start to happen. While this book was well written, it wasn't engaging enough for me till the last 100 pages. I really had to force myself to wait till the end to see why Hitchcock made a movie of this and why so many people love this novel. I was wondering if the book was told by someone else or if it was in third person I would have liked it a little better. I have a feeling I like the movie better when I watch that this week. ( )

This is a romantic suspense thriller; not a style I usually read. The book started out slowly and I was mildly irritated by the main character's mousey-ness. However the plot picks up about halfway through the book and the writing style is excellent. Daphne du Maurier has created a story that slowly envelopes the reader quietly, without them noticing. It was engaging, but not in a binge-worthy page turning way. Instead this book, while easy to put down, continued to drift at the edge of my thoughts throughout the day. I was pleasantly surprised by this pace as well as the turns the story took.

I would recommend the book because of the beautiful and eloquent writing as well as for the subtle way it immerses the reader. ( )