Rebecca is a novel that slowly builds suspense around a love affair that is haunted by the past from the very start. The narrator begins a whirlwind romance with widower Maximilian de Winter during their stay in Monte Carlo. It is quickly darkened when they return to de Winter's home, Manderley. The newly married Mrs. de Winter attempts to become the lady of the house, but the task becomes too daunting when she constantly remains in the shadow of Rebecca, Mr. de Winter's former wife.
Rebecca is such a looming part of the story that we read her name so many times, yet never learn the first or maiden name of the narrator. Rebecca overwhelms the majority of the book that we also get a much clearer picture of her than we do for the character whose head we are in. We learn about Rebecca's food preferences, her loved ones, her daily routine, her hobbies, her style choices, her beauty, her talents, and her childhood. In comparison, the reader learns very little about any other character. It comes to the point that every other person in the novel can be summed up in one word. Mrs. de Winter = insecure, Mr. de Winter = distant, Mrs. Danvers = obsessive, so on and so forth.
Even if it weren't for this deep-rooted darkness concerning Rebecca, the relationship between the main characters would still give me large misgivings. The narrator is creepily dependent on her new husband and bases her entire happiness on his current mood. Mr. de Winter also seems to view her more as a dog or a plaything than a wife. Their marriage is so fraught with poor communication and lack of trust, that it makes me wonder if this piece of literature should even be classified as a romance.
The novel has a gothic tone with a slow build up of tension and mystery. On my part, I loved that, as I viewed the book more about psychological haunting than a romance or even a mystery. The book explores a mind exposed to the vulnerabilities and fears of the psyche. The mental conflict brings up paranoia, suspicion, self-doubt, and distrust. While reading the book, I felt myself starting to question everything the narrator observed and thought. I was not sure of who to trust or what to believe anymore. I cringed along with her whenever her small inventory of happiness or security was bashed. Half of me wanted to wipe away her tears with a vintage handkerchief and the other half of me wanted to grab her and yell at her to get the hell out of there and find a healthier situation.
The prose itself is beautiful. It was the kind of writing that would make me stop and close my eyes after reading a sentence just so I could savor it a little longer before moving on. The novel has a somber, mysterious edge that left me filled with discomfort and intrigue after each reading session. Even when not a lot of action was happening, it kept me wanting to continue to see what was around the next dark corner and neglect all of my adult responsibilities. It is definitely a book that will stay in my mind for a long time.
much love,
hedgie
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