GREAT authors are deemed to be those giving profound and universal insights into the human condition. By that token, Daphne du Maurier falls short. However, for her grasp of atmosphere and sense of place, she is up there with the best. Rebecca has one of the most haunting introductions in English literature, starting with the killer, oft-quoted line: ‘Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.’ The description of the overgrown track to the house, with its malevolent ivy, monster shrubs and the rhododendrons 50ft high is overwrought, but it sets the tone for the entire story, in which the imagined and the real weave in and out of each other.
The gaucherie of the second Mrs de Winter reflected the introvert author’s own insecurities
When du Maurier sent the manuscript to her publisher Victor Gollancz in 1938, she confessed that it was ‘on the gloomy side’, with a beginning that is also its conclusion and an ending that was ‘a bit brief and a bit grim’. Although she’d already enjoyed success as a novelist with the period piece Jamaica Inn, she forecast that Rebecca wouldn’t sell, but she was wrong. A page turner if ever there was one, it flew off the shelves, undergoing 28 printings in its first four years in Britain. It has never been out of print since.
Critics of the time were underwhelmed by du Maurier’s middlebrow style and dismissed Rebecca as ‘a woman’s romantic novel’. Du Maurier herself said: ‘My novels are what is known as popular and sell very well, but I am not a critic’s favourite, indeed I am generally dismissed with a sneer as a bestseller and not reviewed at all.’
Denne historien er fra August 18, 2021-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra August 18, 2021-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Kitchen garden cook - Apples
'Sweet and crisp, apples are the epitome of autumn flavour'
The original Mr Rochester
Three classic houses in North Yorkshire have come to the market; the owner of one inspired Charlotte Brontë to write Jane Eyre
Get it write
Desks, once akin to instruments of torture for scribes, have become cherished repositories of memories and secrets. Matthew Dennison charts their evolution
'Sloes hath ben my food'
A possible paint for the Picts and a definite culprit in tea fraud, the cheek-suckingly sour sloe's spiritual home is indisputably in gin, says John Wright
Souvenirs of greatness
FOR many years, some large boxes have been stored and forgotten in the dark recesses of the garage. Unpacked last week, the contents turned out to be pots: some, perhaps, nearing a century old—dense terracotta, of interesting provenance.
Plants for plants' sake
The garden at Hergest Croft, Herefordshire The home of Edward Banks The Banks family is synonymous with an extraordinary collection of trees and shrubs, many of which are presents from distinguished friends, garnered over two centuries. Be prepared to be amazed, says Charles Quest-Ritson
Capturing the castle
Seventy years after Christian Dior’s last fashion show in Scotland, the brand returned under creative director Maria Grazia Chiuri for a celebratory event honouring local craftsmanship, the beauty of the land and the Auld Alliance, explains Kim Parker
Nature's own cathedral
Our tallest native tree 'most lovely of all', the stately beech creates a shaded environment that few plants can survive. John Lewis-Stempel ventures into the enchanted woods
All that money could buy
A new book explores the lost riches of London's grand houses. Its author, Steven Brindle, looks at the residences of plutocrats built by the nouveaux riches of the late-Victorian and Edwardian ages
In with the old
Diamonds are meant to sparkle in candlelight, but many now gather dust in jewellery boxes. To wear them today, we may need to reimagine them, as Hetty Lintell discovers with her grandmother's jewellery
