Rebecca, by Daphne du Maurier

Well, Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca. A huge bitch or a (brazen) heroine? Manipulative, spiteful and insane? Or independant, clever and intriguing? Perhaps both? 

Rebecca tells the story of a young, naive girl whisked off her feet by a haughty middle aged man, Maximilian de Winter. This girl narrates the story throughout the book. Maxim, as he's usually called, marries her and installs her as mistress of his stately home, Manderley. From the moment she meets him, she is plagued with the fear that she will never measure up to his deceased first wife, Rebecca.

Quite understandable. We are told Rebecca was sophisticated, charming, 'well bred', and, time and time again, remarkably beautiful. She is described as having long black hair, a slim figure and the white skin so fashionable in those days (around the 1920s). By contrast, our narrator believes herself childish, plain and shy. She is convinced Maxim is still completely in love with his late wife, still longing for Rebecca, besotted with her.

So what a shock our narrator receives when her new husband reveals Rebecca was actually a rather despicable character, so much so that Maxim was unable to resist murdering her and dumping her body in the ocean.

Maxim tells his new bride of Rebecca's crimes; they'd started mere days after he and Rebecca were married. Maxim describes how Rebecca had agreed to run his house as long as she was allowed a free rein to do as she pleased. That is, lead a life completely separate to Maxim's, including having as many lovers as she desires (undertones of the book suggest male and female), taking a house in London for her own use during the week, while also having as much money as she requires courtesy of Maxim.

Maxim explains how Rebecca finally tips him over the edge a few years into their marriage, by telling him that she is pregnant with someone else's baby. Rebecca mocks that this baby will grow to inherit Manderley without there being anything Maxim can do to prevent it. Aside from shooting her in the heart of course, a course of action he duly takes. Our narrator understands and sympathises with what her new husband has been through, and she realises he's truly in love with her, not Rebecca. This realisation apparently completely overrules a murder confession, so naturally she vows to stand by him.

So far, so straightforward romance. Rebecca is the devil woman, Maxim the wronged husband and our narrator the romantic heroine; Rebecca's foil and Maxim's saviour.

And yet, it is Rebecca I am drawn to, whilst struggling to find any empathy towards the narrator. When Maxim asks the narrator to marry him, he does so by saying 'I'm asking you to marry me, you little fool'.

Not the most romantic of propositions, despite what our young narrator seems to think.

Then, once the newly married couple are back at Manderley, Maxim treats her like a small child, or a puppy. He disciplines her, patronisingly encourages her, and comments several times how pleased he is that she's not mature or sophisticated.

So, that leads me to wonder what Maxim may have been like with Rebecca. The same? If so, I can absolutely understand Rebecca being a bit put out. Maxim himself admits to marrying Rebecca because he was assured by other people she had the right combination of 'beauty, brains and breeding.' And it is evident she did indeed have all three of those things, but clearly not the kind Maxim wanted.

It seems he quite fancied a show wife, one who his society would approve of and who would competently be able to run Manderley for him. When Maxim realises Rebecca is not content with a life waiting on him, but instead is brazen enough to want to pursue her own life, he gets annoyed and feels rather cheated. Cheated enough to kill her.

Our narrator is, in Maxim's words, 'young... lost', desperate to please at all costs the husband she never dreamt she could attract. Indeed she barely blinks an eye upon hearing that her husband not only murdered his wife and her unborn child, but then launched a large scale cover up. She accepts Maxim’s story without question, never considering it may either be untrue, or, even if it is factual, that Rebecca perhaps did not deserve to be murdered for her ‘crimes’. When Rebecca was first published it was classified as a romance, with the narrator assuming the part of the romantic heroine.

But Rebecca is more my kind of heroine, and, I believe, the one du Maurier intended to be thought of as such. She is confident, beautiful, brazen and unwilling to sacrifice her own life for the sake of Maxim's. Her story is exciting and intriguing, I wanted to know more about Rebecca’s history and why she was the way she was. I think I considered the narrator’s equally mysterious background only once until I began writing this. Even Rebecca’s own murder was one of her successes - she baits Maxim into shooting her in order to escape the long drawn out death from the terminal illness she has discovered she has.

The unnamed narrator is cut from the same cloth as Twilight's Bella; Rebecca has a cloth all of her own. Rebecca does not actually ever appear in the book at all, she is spoken of only through other characters, yet she haunts every page and is the one that stays in the mind long after the narrator is forgotten. For a character to do this must surely secure Rebecca's position as the rightful heroine of this gothic, mysterious and excellent novel.

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Happily, author Sally Beauman has written a book authorised by the du Maurier estate, Rebecca’s Tale. Hopefully it will provide a closer look at Rebecca’s background. I’ll be ordering it soon, and it will be featuring on here in the coming weeks. Stay tuned!

Next Up...

Why Rebeccca is the true heroine in Daphne du Maurier's 'Rebecca'. A more brazen woman would be hard to find! (Though womenbetweenthepages will do its best to find her.) Stay tuned.

The Mitfords: Letters Between Six Sisters, edited by Charlotte Moseley

Right, well, I'll kick off with the book that's finally inspired me to create this blog. Letters Between Six Sisters details the exploits of the infamous Mitford sisters; Nancy, Pamela, Diana, Unity, Jessica and Deborah. Barely a week went by the in 1930s when at least one of this aristocratic line up was not headline news.

It is easy to understand why: Nancy, the eldest, went on to be a hugely successful novelist, though less lucky in her rather one sided romance with a French politician Gaston Palewski. Pamela married a millionaire scientist, attracted the love of John Betjeman and raised suspicion regarding the platonic nature of her later relationship with a female companion. Diana Mitford went on to become Lady Moseley, had a stint in gaol and supported fascism after most had denounced it. Unity, obsessed with Hitler, tried to take her own life when England declared war on Germany. Jessica fled with her second cousin to pursue a life supporting communism, while youngest sister, Deborah, ended up Duchess of Devonshire.

Their lives played out against the backdrop of the politically turbulent 20th century, and the sisters thoroughly immersed themselves into it. From Unity's love affair with Hitler (whether physical or not is still disputed), to Diana's marriage to Oswald Mosely (and subsequent stint in Holloway), through to Jessica's staunch devotion to communism, the sisters cover the whole political spectrum. Yet this is not a biography of their lives: Charlotte Moseley, Diana's daughter in law, has comprised a collection of letters penned by the sisters to each other. It is a fascinating insight into relationships that last a lifetime.

When I purchased the book, it was the events of the 1930s and 40s which drew me to it. I was interested in discovering their own thoughts about Hitler, the war etc., without that joyful benefit of hindsight. And yet, enthralling though those parts undoubtedly are (Unity signs off a lot of letters with 'Heil Hitler'. Each time I saw it felt as strange as the first.), it is the personal relationships that held me captivated throughout all 804 pages.

Why did communist Jessica sever ties with fascist Diana, due to irreconcilable political differences, whilst maintaining a relationship with the no less repugnant Nazi loving Unity? Why did Nancy write reams of letters declaring how much she longed to see Diana during Diana's imprisonment, when it was Nancy herself who advised British authorities that Diana was a dangerous person? 

With personalities such as Hitler, John F Kennedy and Queen Elizabeth II featuring effortlessly between the page, it would be easy for the sisters' personal relationships to be quite overshadowed. But it is actually the exchanges of letters such as the ones from Nancy to Deborah, bemoaning Jessica's sniping words about Nancy's financial tightness, or Diana and Deborah whinging that Nancy is unable 'to keep her trap shut' that makes the book so compelling.

It is rather like being given the green light to eavesdrop, to actually be the fly on the wall you so often wish to be. That said, it is a family member who has edited the book, and the letters will no doubt have been carefully chosen from the vaults so as to not betray any further embarrassment or secrets. On many occasions I wished the immediate response to one letter or another had been published.

I am struggling to know where to begin to select the most brazen woman in this particular book. Pamela is perhaps the only one who can be immediately discounted. She features significantly less in the book than the others, and is perhaps the only one to escape controversy (the rumoured lesbian fling not withstanding.)

Deborah, whilst hugely significant to the flow of letters, and often described as the heart of the family once the sisters' mother passes away, could also not be considered most brazen. Perhaps having seen where it led her elder siblings, Deborah turned her back on politics despite her husband being a Tory MP as well as the Duke of Devonshire, and led a relatively scandal free life at Chatsworth, the Cavandish's family seat. That JFK suddenly felt the need to visit the grave of his sister, buried near Chatsworth, once his 'darling Debo' moved in, is apparently all purely coincidental...

Nancy's letters are perhaps the ones who portray the most of their writer's personality. The barbed wit and black humour, peppered with spite and salted with disloyalty, only serve to make me drawn towards her. I do not think I would like her, and certainly would hate to have her as a sister, but brazenly defiant and convention bucking? Absolutely.

And yet, still we have her wilder, more rebellious, more extreme younger sisters, Diana, Unity and Jessica. The former two are truly despicable women. Unity crosses to Germany to do nothing short of stalk Hitler, and Diana remained one of his defendants until the day she died. A shiver literally ran through me when Jessica, who ended up marry and having children with a Jewish man, comments that she'd love to take her son to meet Auntie Diana, but was afraid Auntie Diana might wish to make him into a bar of soap.

 It is moments such as this that the hard realisation hits you that despite their undoubtedly exciting lives, travelling the world alongside the great and good, bad and ugly, their politics were truly abhorrent and inexcusable. For all their vitality and, in Diana's case especially, beauty, they are not admirable or inspirational on any level. Which I rather like my 'heroines' to be. Brazen though? Very much.

And that leaves us with Jessica. Coming from an aristocratic family, with a father who was described as one of 'nature's fascists', it would have sent a highly charged shockwave when she eloped with her communist cousin, Esmond Romilly, fleeing to Spain. Tragedy upon tragedy follows, death of two children and a husband before she finally winds up in the USA as a card carrying communist, fully submerged into the 1960s civil rights movement. Defiant, resilient and successful, Jessica emerges by a long run as my favourite Mitford. Hell, J K Rowling even named her daughter after her!

A highly recommended read. I've never read anything with quite the same concept before. I've ordered Jessica's own autobiography, Hons and Rebels, and am looking around for the best biography of them. Any recommendations would be highly appreciated!