Book Review: Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

I might be finally adding a book to my favorite books of all time. I was absolutely enthralled with Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier. I didn’t want to put the book down.

First of all, the writing was near perfection. It was a magnificent blend of descriptive and subtle. Immediately on the first page, you get to read sentences like, “Nature had come into her own again and, little by little, in her stealthy, insidious way had encroached upon the drive with long tenacious fingers.” There were so many poetic metaphors and phrases, like bluebells challenging the sky, a hound of heaven at someone’s heels, or this oxymoronic phrase: “[I] keep the things that hurt to myself alone. They can be my secret indulgence.”

Daphne du Maurier weaved her mystery web stealthily, drawing connections, building tension, and intimating relevance like a pro. She never told us anything; she always showed us and guided us to our conclusions. The atmosphere was palpable. Some scenes in the beginning chapters kept reminding me of an Alfred Hitchcock film, and I wasn’t surprised when I remembered that Hitchcock adapted the novel as his first project. Oh, and Daphne kept me guessing. I tried to predict the twist, and thought of multiple scenarios, but I didn’t guess the ending. When I arrived at the twist, it wasn’t disappointing at all. 

Daphne was also so good at describing thought processes, like how a word you wish you could take back dances before you and magnifies into something heinous because of the precluding silence (39), or how you flinch like a whipping boy because someone you don’t even like is embarrassing themselves (12). This talent of Daphne’s helped me get to know the protagonist intimately. 

In fact, the second Mrs. de Winter is me. I related to her so much, and I saw so much of myself in her. She’s a bit too trusting (why in the world would she ever take Mrs. Danvers advice??), but other than that, she’s me in a book. I’m not sure I’ve ever connected to a character more. Her desire to alleviate everyone’s discomfort, her insecurity and low self-esteem, her pride, her sudden urges to cry at pathetic kindness or someone else’s embarrassments, her bearing pain in silence, her gravitating towards sincere and straightforward people—it’s all me. It’s a bit unfortunate I don’t know her Christian name, since du Maurier never gave her one. Now I have to endlessly refer to her as either “the protagonist of Rebecca” or “the second Mrs. de Winter,” but that’s obviously such a minor inconvenience. 

So the character depth and development in this book is obviously fantastic. And, as you might know, Rebecca is categorized as romantic suspense. So you might be wondering how I rate our protagonist’s romantic partner. I know he’s not perfect; you’ll know it too once you read the book, but I enjoyed his character immensely. Besides him giving the most bemusing marriage proposal of all literature, he was constantly amusing me (although sometimes at our protagonist’s expense). He was complex, and his character combined with the protagonist’s made for a wonderful, painful at times, yearning-filled romance. 

The only critique I have is that my edition had so many typos and so many grammar mistakes, namely comma splices, which isn’t Daphne’s fault. So I have no real critique of the book, just a lot of admiration.