I loved this book. I loved the writing, I loved the imagery, I loved the suspense, I loved everything.
Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while I could not enter, for the way was barred to me.
This is such a wonderful opening paragraph. It sets up the suspense and the melancholy that seeps through the entire book. Du Mourier just has this lovely writing style that’s very straightforward and rich in detail, and it creates this very immersive reading experience. It’s like you’re watching a movie through the protagonists’s eyes. I wish I could write like this.
Our protagonist is a young woman employed as an American woman’s companion, and during her employer’s retreat at Monte Carlo, she meets Maxim de Winter, owner of Manderley, who lost his wife Rebecca around a year ago. She falls in love with Maxim, and he proposes to her and brings her back to Manderley.
It’s like Rebecca never left Manderley. Beautiful, charming, well-bred Rebecca, who ran the estate effortlessly, throwing parties and entertaining guests and being loved by everyone. Our shy protagonist with a humble upbringing sprials into jealousy and self-doubt, comparing herself to this perfect image of Rebecca she begins to conjure up in her mind. Meanwhile, upon returning to Manderley, Maxim has begun to grow cold and distant, and our protagonist fears that he does not love her. That he is still in love with Rebecca.
Personally, I really empathize with the protagonist. Du Mourier portrays insecurity so so well, the feeling that by not being good enough you’ve ruined your own happiness, the spiraling, the disappointment, the shame of being found out as an imposter, it’s so believable and it makes the protagonist feel so real.
After making a condemning mistake at a party, our protagonist finally confronts Maxim about all her insecurities, accusing him of still being in love with Rebecca. It is finally then that Maxim tells her the truth. The perfect, kind, lovely Rebecca our protagonist spent weeks comparing herself to did not exist. Rebecca was a selfish sociopath, and he killed her to protect Manderley when she told him she was pregnant with someone else’s child. Maxim tells our protagonist that he really does love her, but everything is too late now because Rebecca’s body has been found.
If you look up Rebecca you’ll see so many different interpretations of each character, and I think that’s another charm of this book. Our protagonist is very much an unreliable narrator—she spends the first three-quarters of the book grossly misunderstanding the situation (which isn’t her fault), and the last quarter devoted to helping Maxim get away with murder. She doesn’t give readers the full picture. It’s almost as if we’re watching the story through the cracks between Maxim’s fingers covering her eyes.
This is my take. I think Rebecca was a bad person. She’s not some oppressed wife who got murdered by an abusive husband who is now trying to manipulate a young, gullible girl into helping him get away with it. From Mrs. Danvers’s, who’s devoted to her to the point that it honestly feels a bit problematic, account of her character, it’s clear that Rebecca is callous at best and psychopathic at worst. And to be honest, although I’m not saying that murder was the correct solution, I understand why Maxim felt that he had to kill her, without even having to be an abusive husband. As for Maxim, is he emotionally abusive to the protagonist? Yes. He could’ve prepared our protagonist for what was going to happen when they arrive at Manderley. The time schedule kept at the house, arranging for a personal maid and nicer clothing, and above all giving her emotional support at Manderley so she wouldn’t spiral into thinking that she didn’t belong in a house that still belongs to Rebecca. It felt like he was deliberately belittling her at Manderley so she would grow even more desperate for his attention. And finally, our protagonist. Despite all her faults, I really do sympathize with her. I know some people find her shallow, but being so alone and isolated at Manderley from everything she’s ever known, it’s understandable that she’d want to make a place for herself, and the only way she knew how to do that was to win Maxim’s approval and love. Of course, the scene where Maxim confesses murder and all she thinks about is how he said he didn’t love Rebecca is kinda messed up. But all in all, I really don’t think she’s that bad of a person, and her slowly gaining more confidence is truly encouraging.
The ending was brilliant. I actually went back to read the first two chapters after the ending, and it made the ending even more beautiful in a devastating, haunting way. There’s a quote from Maxim where he talks about his love for Manderley that I find gorgeous
I put Manderley first, before anything else. And it does not prosper, that sort of love. They don’t preach about it in the churches. Christ said nothing about stones, and bricks, and walls, the love that a man can bear for his plot of Earth, his soil, his little kingdom. It does not come into the Christian creed.
and at the end when Manderley is burnt down, it might seem like Maxim and our protagonist are set free from Maxim’s love for Manderley and with that, Rebecca. Yet when you go back to the beginning, the book starts with our protagonist dreaming about driving back to Manderley in ruins. It feels like they’re forever trapped in the ghost of that house, forever in the aftermath, Rebecca’s ghost hovering above. It’s such an ingenius way to connect the end with the beginning.
Rebecca is an amazing book. It’s beautifully written, it’s gothic, and it opens up discussions about so many different topics. I can’t wait to read the book again knowing what I know now and see how my perception of all these characters change. Please read it.