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plantbirdwoman's review against another edition
3.0
"Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again" is the sentence with which Daphne du Maurier began her iconic novel Rebecca. For me, that is one of the three most memorable beginnings of all the books I have ever read. The other two?
"Call me Ishmael." (Moby Dick)
And, of course, "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit." (The Hobbit)
But those two are very different kinds of novels, and the beginning of Rebecca, I think, is the most memorable for me.
When I was a teenager, I was under the spell of du Maurier and her books. I read them over and over again, but none more often than Rebecca. Somewhere in there I also saw Alfred Hitchcock's movie which was a wonderfully faithful realization of the much-loved book. When I heard a review on NPR's "Fresh Air" a few days ago of Rachel Pastan's new book Alena and the reviewer mentioned that the book was an homage to Rebecca, of course I had to read it.
Pastan begins her book with a very conscious tip of the hat to du Maurier. "Last night I dreamed of Nauquasset again," she writes. With that beginning, she reimagines du Maurier's novel in all of its essential details.
Instead of the innocent young ingenue rescued from a boring life as a traveling companion to a rich, older woman by the dashing Maxim de Winter, we get an innocent young curatorial assistant from the Midwest arriving for the first time at the Venice Biennale with her boss, a demanding middle-aged woman curator who seems determined not to allow her assistant to see any of the art in Venice. Enter wealthy museum director and art-world gadfly Bernard Augustin who has a small contemporary museum on Cape Cod. Our young narrator, who remains nameless just like the narrator in Rebecca, catches Augustin's eye and when her boss insists on leaving the Biennale early, cutting short her assistant's chance to experience the art of Europe, he offers the young woman a job as a curator at his museum and invites her to stay in Europe and travel with him.
Of course, she accepts. Otherwise, we wouldn't have a story.
In a twist on the original novel, there is no romantic relationship between the young woman and Augustin. He is, in fact, gay, but theirs is a relationship founded firmly on their love of art.
On returning to Cape Cod and the museum called the Nauk, we learn that the museum has been closed for two years ever since its former curator, Alena, disappeared. It is believed that she went swimming in the surf one night, as she was wont to do, and that she drowned. She never returned and has never been heard from again. Her body was never found, but her spirit - her ghost - haunts the Nauk and all the people associated with it.
Soon it haunts the new curator as well, as she is constantly compared (unfavorably) to Alena. Alena was knowledgable, sophisticated, and daring in her choices for the museum. How can a novice possibly live up to that?
The malevolent Mrs. Danvers role is taken here by the museum's business manager, Agnes, a childhood friend of Alena's who was completely devoted to her and who doesn't think much of the new curator. All the other members of the cast that we remember from Rebecca are represented in different guises as well. They are mostly snobbish and unpleasant people except for the dishy local police chief who soon discovers a mutual attraction for our young narrator.
All in all, this is a patient and fairly faithful rendering of the old story that I knew so well, and much of the writing was really good, I thought. Sometimes though it wanders off into the esoteric, self-referential language of the art world. Maybe this was meant as a deliberate skewering of a group of people who perhaps take themselves far too seriously, but at times it became just a little too campy for my taste.
Still, it was a fun read, and if it does not quite rise to the level of du Maurier, it is a worthy effort, even if I won't necessarily be adding "Last night I dreamed of Nauquasset again" to my list of most memorable beginnings to novels.
"Call me Ishmael." (Moby Dick)
And, of course, "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit." (The Hobbit)
But those two are very different kinds of novels, and the beginning of Rebecca, I think, is the most memorable for me.
When I was a teenager, I was under the spell of du Maurier and her books. I read them over and over again, but none more often than Rebecca. Somewhere in there I also saw Alfred Hitchcock's movie which was a wonderfully faithful realization of the much-loved book. When I heard a review on NPR's "Fresh Air" a few days ago of Rachel Pastan's new book Alena and the reviewer mentioned that the book was an homage to Rebecca, of course I had to read it.
Pastan begins her book with a very conscious tip of the hat to du Maurier. "Last night I dreamed of Nauquasset again," she writes. With that beginning, she reimagines du Maurier's novel in all of its essential details.
Instead of the innocent young ingenue rescued from a boring life as a traveling companion to a rich, older woman by the dashing Maxim de Winter, we get an innocent young curatorial assistant from the Midwest arriving for the first time at the Venice Biennale with her boss, a demanding middle-aged woman curator who seems determined not to allow her assistant to see any of the art in Venice. Enter wealthy museum director and art-world gadfly Bernard Augustin who has a small contemporary museum on Cape Cod. Our young narrator, who remains nameless just like the narrator in Rebecca, catches Augustin's eye and when her boss insists on leaving the Biennale early, cutting short her assistant's chance to experience the art of Europe, he offers the young woman a job as a curator at his museum and invites her to stay in Europe and travel with him.
Of course, she accepts. Otherwise, we wouldn't have a story.
In a twist on the original novel, there is no romantic relationship between the young woman and Augustin. He is, in fact, gay, but theirs is a relationship founded firmly on their love of art.
On returning to Cape Cod and the museum called the Nauk, we learn that the museum has been closed for two years ever since its former curator, Alena, disappeared. It is believed that she went swimming in the surf one night, as she was wont to do, and that she drowned. She never returned and has never been heard from again. Her body was never found, but her spirit - her ghost - haunts the Nauk and all the people associated with it.
Soon it haunts the new curator as well, as she is constantly compared (unfavorably) to Alena. Alena was knowledgable, sophisticated, and daring in her choices for the museum. How can a novice possibly live up to that?
The malevolent Mrs. Danvers role is taken here by the museum's business manager, Agnes, a childhood friend of Alena's who was completely devoted to her and who doesn't think much of the new curator. All the other members of the cast that we remember from Rebecca are represented in different guises as well. They are mostly snobbish and unpleasant people except for the dishy local police chief who soon discovers a mutual attraction for our young narrator.
All in all, this is a patient and fairly faithful rendering of the old story that I knew so well, and much of the writing was really good, I thought. Sometimes though it wanders off into the esoteric, self-referential language of the art world. Maybe this was meant as a deliberate skewering of a group of people who perhaps take themselves far too seriously, but at times it became just a little too campy for my taste.
Still, it was a fun read, and if it does not quite rise to the level of du Maurier, it is a worthy effort, even if I won't necessarily be adding "Last night I dreamed of Nauquasset again" to my list of most memorable beginnings to novels.
nikkigee81's review
slow-paced
3.0
This is an homage to du Maurier's Rebecca, which is a classic. This, however, fell a little flat for me. It's obvious that Pastan has talent, but I think if you take the Rebecca element away, it's a book filled with obnoxious characters and snooty art.
This was the third and final selection from the Read or Reject program at the library. I would pick up something else by this author, though, so points for that, I guess!
This was the third and final selection from the Read or Reject program at the library. I would pick up something else by this author, though, so points for that, I guess!
raniahanna's review against another edition
2.0
This barely drudges up the suspense and primality of Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca.
Described as an adaptation of du Maurier's novel, Alena doesn't come close to the depth and beauty of that marked Rebecca as a classic.
Alena tries to be mysterious, as a nameless young curator is given a job by the enigmatic and broodingBernard, the owner of the Nauk, a small art museum on Cape Cod.
Alena is the equivalent of Rebecca, a beautiful, alluring woman who has most everyone wrapped around her dead finger, including the main male character.
The curator has a hard time living up to everyone's expectations of her - because they're always comparing her to the near-perfect Alena.
Rebecca is one of my favorite novels, and I was excited to the delve into this homage to it, but the book failed so much, from the characters, to the plot, to even the writing style. I couldn't sink deep enough to feel myself cloaked by the story, as I did with Rebecca.
To be fair, du Maurier is a craftswoman, and very few could compare to her writing, and even trying to take on an adaptation of one of her best-known novels is bold and I applaud that effort. But the book has a diluted feel to it - like it only takes on the grays and whites of Rebecca and forgets to mix in the other colors that brought that book to life.
But in Alena, there is none of the menace that was in Rebecca, though Alena's friends do try to fill that role towards the curator. Still, I never felt she was in true danger, even by Bernard's hands. And I didn't get the dark feel within the Nauk, or the town Nauquasset like you do with Manderly. It's not the same opulence and dark beauty that Manderly draws you in with.
I didn't get a good grasp on any of the characters, including the curtaor, and don't understand what happens to her in the end. It seems like she's writing about the past, and that she's still in contact with Bernard, but I never truly learned or understood what happened to her. Even Alena's death, once Bernard reveals it, falls flat and is lackluster - not at all the gruesome death I imagined.
Described as an adaptation of du Maurier's novel, Alena doesn't come close to the depth and beauty of that marked Rebecca as a classic.
Alena tries to be mysterious, as a nameless young curator is given a job by the enigmatic and broodingBernard, the owner of the Nauk, a small art museum on Cape Cod.
Alena is the equivalent of Rebecca, a beautiful, alluring woman who has most everyone wrapped around her dead finger, including the main male character.
The curator has a hard time living up to everyone's expectations of her - because they're always comparing her to the near-perfect Alena.
Rebecca is one of my favorite novels, and I was excited to the delve into this homage to it, but the book failed so much, from the characters, to the plot, to even the writing style. I couldn't sink deep enough to feel myself cloaked by the story, as I did with Rebecca.
To be fair, du Maurier is a craftswoman, and very few could compare to her writing, and even trying to take on an adaptation of one of her best-known novels is bold and I applaud that effort. But the book has a diluted feel to it - like it only takes on the grays and whites of Rebecca and forgets to mix in the other colors that brought that book to life.
But in Alena, there is none of the menace that was in Rebecca, though Alena's friends do try to fill that role towards the curator. Still, I never felt she was in true danger, even by Bernard's hands. And I didn't get the dark feel within the Nauk, or the town Nauquasset like you do with Manderly. It's not the same opulence and dark beauty that Manderly draws you in with.
I didn't get a good grasp on any of the characters, including the curtaor, and don't understand what happens to her in the end. It seems like she's writing about the past, and that she's still in contact with Bernard, but I never truly learned or understood what happened to her. Even Alena's death, once Bernard reveals it, falls flat and is lackluster - not at all the gruesome death I imagined.
robinhigdon's review against another edition
2.0
at the very beginning of this book I realized it was a plot re-do of Rebecca, novel by Daphne de Maurier only the details of setting and characters were changed. very disappointing as the writing is very well done and the characters were interesting.
angelakay's review against another edition
2.0
The premise of this book sounded interesting--[author:Daphne du Maurier|2001717]'s [book:Rebecca|17899948] reimagined in the context of the present day modern art world. Instead of a young, naive girl who is suddenly wooed and married by a sophisticated rich man & swept away to his fancy estate, the narrator in Alena is a young, inexperienced, would-be museum curator who suddenly finds herself hired by a rich, sophisticated museum owner and swept away to be the new curator. And instead of finding herself living in the shadow of a legendery, much-beloved, dead-under-myserious-circumstances wife, she finds herself living in the shadow of the legendery, much-beloved, dead-under-myserious-circumstances previous curator.
Unfortunately this came across as more of a gimmick than an interesting plot structure. For one, it meant you pretty much always knew what was about to happen and essentially how it would end. (The beginning also pretty much spoils the ending--there is never any question about what will happen to the two main characters since you learn that in the first pages.) The characters seemed really two-dimensional and cliche, and the narrator was such a whiny self-centered brat it was hard to take her seriously. The discussion of modern art and artists also came across to me as sort of overdone and cliche. And the writing was a bit too purple and over-indulgent for my tastes.
So, yeah. I probably would have given up on it except that it was so short & I was curious to see if there was any kind of twist in terms of the resolution. Sadly, nope.
Unfortunately this came across as more of a gimmick than an interesting plot structure. For one, it meant you pretty much always knew what was about to happen and essentially how it would end. (The beginning also pretty much spoils the ending--there is never any question about what will happen to the two main characters since you learn that in the first pages.) The characters seemed really two-dimensional and cliche, and the narrator was such a whiny self-centered brat it was hard to take her seriously. The discussion of modern art and artists also came across to me as sort of overdone and cliche. And the writing was a bit too purple and over-indulgent for my tastes.
So, yeah. I probably would have given up on it except that it was so short & I was curious to see if there was any kind of twist in terms of the resolution. Sadly, nope.
sdbecque's review against another edition
4.0
Because I love the novel "Rebecca" it's not surprising to also love this re-staging of the story on Cape Cod set in the world of contemporary art. I should say that opening line aside, this is not a strict retelling, plot point by plot point of Rebecca, fairly early on it's revealed that Bernard (The Maxim de Winter character) is gay, but rather a re-working of the story. The tent pole plot points are there for sure. I would encourage you to read "Rebecca" if you haven't, but this is also a lot of fun and beautifully written.
lizakessler's review against another edition
3.0
A retelling of Rebecca? Yes, please!
This was actually a very good remaining, but in many places the creepiness was lost in just derisive condescension from the supporting characters.
This was actually a very good remaining, but in many places the creepiness was lost in just derisive condescension from the supporting characters.
fionamo's review against another edition
2.0
This book gave me the slightly perplexed reaction of hearing a cover of a really great song. Sure, it's technically accomplished, but why was it made? Is it simply homage? Or is it intended to be an improvement on the original?