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A review by justinkhchen
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier
4.0
4.5 stars
Hauntingly atmospheric, Rebecca fully captures the lingering presence of the deceased, and the suffocating dread experienced by the living.
For a novel written in the 1930s, it remains surprisingly genre-bending and unpredictable, mixing Gothic mystery with a dose of police procedural drama. As someone who had studied architecture in the past, I greatly appreciate the extensive, vivid passages on Manderley, which are paramount in setting up mood, as well as manifesting the invisible threat—Rebecca is as much about Manderley the place, as the actual going-ons within it.
Told rather uniquely as a lengthy flashback with an intentionally ambiguous protagonist, Rebecca comes across like a drug-induced dream in slow motion—which could be a turn-off for plot-craving readers—as proven by my reading buddy, who was bored to tears and DNF'd 40 pages in; but I was happily savoring the lyrical writing, and the slow decent into madness triggered by seemingly inoffensive object: handkerchief has never being so menacing. I can nitpick on a couple character developlemt choices (the protagonist being so timid and naive for so long), but as a whole I really enjoyed its unrelenting tone and the morally ambiguous characters.
Additionally, I am now even more impressed by Hitchcock's 19040 film adaptation, which in my opinion perfectly captured the claustrophobic beauty of Daphne du Maurier's text, as well as improved upon a couple narrative splinters.
Overall, Rebecca is a deserved classic that remains completely enjoyable outside of academic analysis (at least for me). I probably wouldn't recommend go into this thinking it's a romance novel, but more of a psychological suspense with romance element—and one with potent lingering power.
Hauntingly atmospheric, Rebecca fully captures the lingering presence of the deceased, and the suffocating dread experienced by the living.
For a novel written in the 1930s, it remains surprisingly genre-bending and unpredictable, mixing Gothic mystery with a dose of police procedural drama. As someone who had studied architecture in the past, I greatly appreciate the extensive, vivid passages on Manderley, which are paramount in setting up mood, as well as manifesting the invisible threat—Rebecca is as much about Manderley the place, as the actual going-ons within it.
Told rather uniquely as a lengthy flashback with an intentionally ambiguous protagonist, Rebecca comes across like a drug-induced dream in slow motion—which could be a turn-off for plot-craving readers—as proven by my reading buddy, who was bored to tears and DNF'd 40 pages in; but I was happily savoring the lyrical writing, and the slow decent into madness triggered by seemingly inoffensive object: handkerchief has never being so menacing. I can nitpick on a couple character developlemt choices (the protagonist being so timid and naive for so long), but as a whole I really enjoyed its unrelenting tone and the morally ambiguous characters.
Additionally, I am now even more impressed by Hitchcock's 19040 film adaptation, which in my opinion perfectly captured the claustrophobic beauty of Daphne du Maurier's text, as well as improved upon a couple narrative splinters.
Overall, Rebecca is a deserved classic that remains completely enjoyable outside of academic analysis (at least for me). I probably wouldn't recommend go into this thinking it's a romance novel, but more of a psychological suspense with romance element—and one with potent lingering power.