Chapter 7: In which our narrator arrives at Manderley, is shown her new living area and informed that Rebecca's room was much bigger.
Even though I have my concerns about Mrs.deW2's (thanks, Gail!) reliability as a narrator, it's not like I think she's on the verge of taking a butter knife to Maxim or anything (Emma!). And I do feel for her:
And now I belonged here, this was my home, I would write letters to people saying, "We shall be down at Manderley all the summer, you must come and see us," and I would walk along this drive, strange and unfamiliar to me now, with perfect knowledge, conscious of every twist and turn...
This just hurt. She imagines the future again and again throughout this chapter -- just trying, I think, to get through the day. And, when she fantasizes about writing letters to people, who will they be to? Maxim's friends and acquaintances. Because... she doesn't have any friends or family (as far as I know). It made me feel for her much, much more than I have so far.
Her description of coming up the driveway struck me as very ominous, so I flipped back to her dream sequence to compare: On the very first page she says that the woods were, "always a menace even in the past".
Upon arriving:
As we drove up to the wide stone steps and stopped before the open door, I saw through one of the mullioned windows that the hall was full of people, and I heard Maxim swear under his breath. "Damn that woman," he said, "she knows perfectly well I did not want this sort of thing," and he put on the brakes with a jerk.
Soooo... is there a power struggle between Maxim and Mrs. Danvers? Later, he says that "she doesn't dare bully" him, but there are ways of getting your own way (and of controlling people) without bullying.
Our first look at Mrs. Danvers:
Someone advanced from the sea of faces, someone tall and gaunt, dressed in deep black, whose prominent cheek-bones and great, hollow eyes gave her a skull's face, parchment-white, set on a skeleton's frame.
Yeah, that can't be good.
The library at Manderley is the first place she's described that feels somewhat comfortable and safe. (Though it's the first of many times she's with Maxim, yet alone. You can be in the same room with someone, quiet, doing different things and still together, but not these two. There's no connection.) The creeping ivy didn't sound all that bad, though of course it made me think of the ivy in her dream.
"Run along". Ugh. Who says that to his wife? Oh, wait. The same guy who tells her to straighten her "funny little fur". He's got the protective tendencies down, too -- there was a moment after the Danvers-Mrs.deW2 Bedroom Conversation where I thought he was a little scary. But his protective moment felt more like he was protecting a pet than a wife.
Maxim and the narrator seem bounce around so much, personality and emotion-wise, that I feel like they're affecting me. I think this book might make me bipolar.
Chapter 8: In which our narrator experiences the daily routine at Manderley.
Rebecca is always there:
I put it back in the box again, and shut the drawer, feeling guilty suddenly, and deceitful, as though I were staying in somebody else's house and my hostess had said to me, "Yes, of course, write letters at my desk," and I had unforgivably, in a stealthy manner, peeped at her correspondence.
And then, when she answers the phone:
There was a strange buzzing at the end of the line, and then a voice came, low and rather harsh, whether that of a woman or a man I could not tell, and "Mrs. de Winter?" is said, "Mrs. de Winter?"
"I'm afraid you have made a mistake," I said, "Mrs. de Winter has been dead for over a year."
Oh, that was the WORST. I groaned (out loud) because it hurt so much. I can't believe how differently I feel about her now that she's come to Manderley. She's surrounded by people who know the routine and the house and each other and who aren't really going out of their way to help her be comfortable and fit in. (That isn't to say that I don't think she's being spineless. I do. Especially because those first few chapters made me think that there was more to her. But we'll see what happens.)
Who was it that commented on Rebecca as a YA read? I am seeing it in these chapters -- the fish-out-of-water feeling, the Catch-22 of refusing to ask questions due to fear of appearing ignorant, but then appearing ignorant anyway because of never getting the answers to the questions that weren't asked, imagining that everything anyone else says out of earshot is about you, etc. But I do think I have less sympathy for the narrator than I do for, say, Naylor's Alice McKinley, because A) she's older (or one would hope) and B) she's been on her own for some time now.
Oh, and more pain -- writing to Mrs. Van Hopper because she has no one else to write to -- this poor girl needs a hobby.
Chapter 9: In which our narrator runs away from her guests, gets caught by Mrs. Danvers in the west wing and irritates Maxim by not ending lunch soon enough.
So she does know:
I listened to them both, leaning against Maxim's arm, rubbing my chin on his sleeve. He stroked my hand absently, not thinking, talking to Beatrice.
"That's what I do to Jasper," I thought. "I'm being like Jasper now, leaning against him. He pats me now and again, when he remembers, and I'm pleased, I get closer to him for a moment. He likes me in the way I like Jasper."
Beatrice is fantastic -- the sort of woman Bertie Wooster would find terrifying, but comforting in this setting, probably because she seems to be the only one what actually voices her thoughts.
I do want to go back to the scene with Mrs. Danvers in the west wing, but I have to go in to work. Hopefully later today.
Past entries:
Chapters 4-6
Chapters 1-3
Full schedule
Other reader/bloggers:
The Leaky Dinghy
Reading with Becky
There's always time for a book
YES. The moment when she answers the phone, "Mrs DeWinter is dead," is when I really start feeling for her. She still drives me a little nuts, but she is just so out of her depth.
I think it's hard to sympathise with her deep feeling of inferiority when it's rooted in social class. But just think of the way that Peter Wimsey treats his social inferiors; if you were sensitive I think that kind of awareness would be brutal.
Posted by: cc | 16 November 2007 at 10:19 AM
I find your theory that Max is bipolar very interesting. My working theory is that he's a dick. But, seriously, it seems like he's already bored of her. It seems like he doesn't care about her at all (or at least not enough to inconvenience himself. Although, come to think of it, he's never inconvenienced himself for her. Not to propose. Not for the wedding--she hinted she'd like a big wedding. Not even to clothe her appropriately.) And, at this point, it seems like he might have married her and brought her back to Manderley just to annoy Mrs. Danvers. I think you nailed it when you wrote there are other ways of controlling people without bullying. I'm sensing a power struggle there--one with plenty of history.
I just got my chapters up: http://leakydinghy.blogspot.com/2007/11/great-read-chapters-7-9.html
Posted by: Elizabeth | 16 November 2007 at 12:21 PM
Oh, I don't think he's bipolar. I think the book is making me bipolar.
More later, when I'm not at work.
Posted by: Leila | 16 November 2007 at 12:26 PM
At this point in the book, I was beginning to find Mrs. deW2 a little trying. She was seeming a little repetitive to me. I so wish I could remember what I thought reading this as a teenager. Now, as I was reading these chapters I was wanting to say to her, For Heaven's sake, go tour your domain. Mark your territory.
The other thing I was thinking while I was reading this was how mind-numbingly boring life was there for the de Winters. Like being in the Twilight Zone boring. And shameful. To have absolutely nothing to do because so very many people are doing all your basic life maintenance work for you. To have two people cleaning your room for you when you haven't even lived in it for twenty-four hours.
All their personal care is done for them, and these people still can't think of anything purposeful to do with their lives. Look at Beatrice. She's a wonderful character but in either these chapters or the next three we see that the poor woman's whole life is, as I believe Leila said, a Bertie Wooster stereotype. (I think Bertie at least played the piano.)
I am probably reading too much into this, but I was wondering if du Maurier was making some kind of statement about people of that class. I tried looking Rebecca and du Maurier up on-line to see if I could find anything written on the subject. All I found was that while she did come from a very comfortable background, her family was more bohemian and arty than these people.
When you read a little further, I think you'll agree that the de Winters would despise arty.
I don't know. Maybe at the time this book was written the de Winter's lifestyle would be considered attractive and desirable.
One article I found (and will not link to because it was full of spoilers) says that Mrs. deW2 is 21, by the way.
Posted by: Gail | 16 November 2007 at 12:32 PM
"For Heaven's sake, go tour your domain. Mark your territory." I think, in a way, that's what both Maxim and Beatrice were getting at with Mrs.deW2 -- that if she'd boss Mrs. Danvers around (in the right way), show some backbone at least, then Mrs. Danvers would respect her. Maybe.
I do think she mentioned being 21 somewhere in chapters 4-6, but I could be wrong.
Specifically, Beatrice reminded me of Honoria Glossip, who Bertie almost had to marry, like, 87 times. (She was very sporty and tweedy, like Beatrice.)
Okay, still at work. Working.
Posted by: Leila | 16 November 2007 at 12:40 PM
http://readingwithbecky.blogspot.com/2007/11/reading-rebecca-pt-3.html
Posted by: Becky | 16 November 2007 at 12:55 PM
I also groaned aloud (and put the book aside) when Mrs deW2 said Mrs de Winter was dead. So embarrassing.
I didn't really pick up a disapproval vibe of the lifestyle but maybe that's because Max seems busy (running the estate?) and Rebecca did too, even if it was busy with letters and menus and recording what her visitors ate. But the situation Mrs deW2 found herself in wouldn't have arisen without the need to maintain this artificial kind of life. I can see that perhaps du Maurier was trying to say "these people live a pointless life where you can actually have nothing useful to do if you aren't socially connected and then your life consists of maintaining those connections!".
Elizabeth, I'm with you on the Max as a dick theory. I'm finding him a very unattractive character.
Some notes up at my blog.
Posted by: Emmaco | 16 November 2007 at 02:40 PM
I picked up on a disapproval vibe, but only once, when Mrs.deW2 was so taken aback by the breakfast spread. Do we know how old she was when her parents died? What her childhood was like? Not really, right? So it's possible that she's experienced some pretty serious want, maybe? I'm not really going anywhere with that, just wondering.
Okay, I just went around and read everyone's posts -- you guys are hysterical. First prize goes to Elizabeth, for : "But I was wrong. I still don't like Maxim. Not because he's old, though--I don't think of 42 as old anymore--but because he's a dick."
And I think I'm with emmaco re: Rebecca vs. Mrs.deW2 -- Rebecca's a more attractive character, and we haven't even met her. Impressive work on du Maurier's part. (Actually, I'm finding Mrs. Danvers more attractive, too. But I'm a sucker for Skull-Faced Housekeepers.)
Posted by: Leila | 16 November 2007 at 06:03 PM
Yeah, I didn't pick up a disapproval vibe, either, but I think I'll go back and have a second look. It's funny, having read all the postings and comments, how we all become preoccupied with different story elements. I think my dislike for Maxim may be distracting me from some of the more nuanced themes.
Posted by: Elizabeth | 16 November 2007 at 07:42 PM
I have to say that I'm not finding Maxim particularly attractive for any number of reasons, though I can't say I hate him, either. It occurred to me today that perhaps the reason middle aged men marry young women is that women their own age know better than to get involved with them. I think a mature woman would have seen red flags all over Maxim in Monte Carlo.
But, again, this may have something to do with the time in which the book was written. Women may have gone for controlling guys in a bigger way back in the 30s.
Posted by: Gail | 16 November 2007 at 08:53 PM
I'm up to the lunch scene, listening to it, so I don't have any specific lines marked but I'm definitely getting a controlling/emotionally abusive vibe from Maxim. I agree with Gail that women Maxim's age know well enough to stay away from him. Heck, I would know enough to stay away and I'm 26. As for Mrs.deW2, I go back and forth between pity and annoyance. I do sympathize with her sense of hesitation at Manderley - that she doesn't want to ask for help, but dammit, there comes a point when you have to assert yourself.
I wonder about Rebecca...I almost think Mrs.deW2 is blowing her out of proportion, making her this perfect wife in her imagination when in reality she was probably as much of an innocent as Mrs.deW2. Maybe she was higher class, and knew more about how to fit in with the lifestyle, but emotionally I would guess that she was the same type as her successor and that our narrator is just projecting all kinds of ideas about Rebecca.
Posted by: jessmonster | 19 November 2007 at 04:29 PM