50 Books for 05 | #2
I haven't given up on The Time Traveler's Wife, I promise. But book #2 of the year is a classic that I've been meaning to read for a few years now: Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca. I thought my aunt's eyes would bulge out of her head when I picked up a copy in B&N yesterday-- that look that says, I read that ages and ages ago and can't imagine why anyone would pick it up on a pleasure reading jaunt. (Especially since I chose the newer paperback without the red velvet cover. ::shudder::)
But that's the thing: for all of its "classic" status, if one can even say that, it is a melodrama, pure and simple, and a curious psychological study which at this moment I can't tell is brilliant or brainless. I spent the entire time, of course, imagining Maxim as Olivier, which is a delicious image with which to curl up under the covers. I felt such empathy for the second Mrs. de Winter for so long, and then by the end, I wanted to slap her. For some reason, probably because of clips from Hitchcock over the years, I was certain that Danvers had done her mistress in, that even after the confession there was a tiny hope that maybe Maxim wasn't a murderer. And yet, he was (which was a nice touch) but instead of going down that dark storyline, Maurier comes up with the whole cancer/she-hated-all-men/slut subplot which was so utterly contrived that it spoiled it all. It was nice to see Wife #2 grow a spine, but really, what does it say about women when all they can think after their husband confesses the MURDER of his FIRST wife is "oh he loves me and he never loved her"? I can't say we've come that far since the thirties-- I think there's a CSI episode in this somewhere...
Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed myself through 4/5 of the book. That has to count for something, right?
But that's the thing: for all of its "classic" status, if one can even say that, it is a melodrama, pure and simple, and a curious psychological study which at this moment I can't tell is brilliant or brainless. I spent the entire time, of course, imagining Maxim as Olivier, which is a delicious image with which to curl up under the covers. I felt such empathy for the second Mrs. de Winter for so long, and then by the end, I wanted to slap her. For some reason, probably because of clips from Hitchcock over the years, I was certain that Danvers had done her mistress in, that even after the confession there was a tiny hope that maybe Maxim wasn't a murderer. And yet, he was (which was a nice touch) but instead of going down that dark storyline, Maurier comes up with the whole cancer/she-hated-all-men/slut subplot which was so utterly contrived that it spoiled it all. It was nice to see Wife #2 grow a spine, but really, what does it say about women when all they can think after their husband confesses the MURDER of his FIRST wife is "oh he loves me and he never loved her"? I can't say we've come that far since the thirties-- I think there's a CSI episode in this somewhere...
Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed myself through 4/5 of the book. That has to count for something, right?
1 Comments:
I did give up on The Time Traveler's Wife. I got about a third of the way into it and realized that it was what I call a "Teflon book." My brain kept trying to grab hold of something to find appealing and failing. This was really too bad, as the book seemed to have all the hallmarks of something I would like: an interesting premise, good description, and decent writing.
- Jill
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