So, yeah. I read Daphne du Maurier's "Rebecca." I'd seen the movie a gajillion years ago, but had never read the book. And so, on our recent vacation, I sat by the pool, enjoyed a few adult beverages, and became completely terrified of Mrs. Danvers.
At one point, My Guy looked up from his Kindle and asked how my book was.
"Ohmigod, honey, it's crazypants," I said. "See, there's this kind of lady's assistant girl, who works for this horrible rich old lady, right? And she falls in love with this rich older guy and they get married, but when he takes her back to his estate, it turns out the housekeeper is completely obsessed with the dead first wife! And she died in a boating accident, but not really! And the evil housekeeper tries to get the young new wife to jump out the window!"
My sweet husband interrupted me. "And this is a true story? What the hell?"
Oh. "No, it's a novel."
My Guy sighed. "Oh. OK, then. Carry on."
But really, if you try to describe the action in this novel, it sounds like something out of Jerry Springer, but somehow classier because the characters are rich and have British accents. I don't think you could have a British accent and appear on "Springer." It just wouldn't work.
At any rate, I loved this novel. If it's been a while since you've read it, I'd encourage you to pick it up. Also? Here's a really interesting interview with du Maurier's son.
On a scale of 1 to 5, I give "Rebecca" 5 haughty dachshunds.
I read it when I was a teenager, at the same time I read "Jane Eyre," and concluded that all broodingly handsome, rich Englishmen were in possession of a crazycakes first wife locked away somewhere deep in the old family mansion. And THAT, gentle reader, is why I never married a broodingly handsome, rich Englishman.
ReplyDeleteI have never read this! It does sound pretty racy, though.
ReplyDeleteoh gosh, read it and wuthering heights and listened to seasons in the sun and bobby mcgee and all that stuff, balanced out by john denver and age of aquarius in girl scout camp.
ReplyDeleteperfect for 13 to 15 year olds in the early 70's.
i have since re-read rebecca and find that it is still a good read, but seasons in the sun is too drippy.
Ditto what "Edit This" wrote! Well, except for the rich English husband. I met my guy, looked in his eyes, and fell for him. But Colin Firth is my secret boyfriend (er, not-so-secret... my dh knows all about him).
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