“Here is a moving love story and an unforgettable gallery of characters, a romance so breathtaking, so haunting that it stands as a giant among modern novels.”
Spoiler Alert: If you haven’t read this book, keep going it was printed in 1938 for goodness sake so you should at least know a smidgen about it! Teasing…I will mention details that will spoil the tale…you’ve been warned!
After reading the back jacket I was eager to dig into this dark, haunting romance. Needless to say, I was in a Wuthering Heights state of mind. And that was really not the state of mind I should have been in. The only romance I found within its pages was Maxim’s love of his home Manderley. He certainly didn’t love his first wife, Rebecca. Who I might add didn’t really “haunt” the characters in the book, for me it was always the house that haunted, that twisted, and riled. And his second wife, she doesn’t even get a name. The tale told through her eyes, but never once is her name uttered.
It reminded me of Gone With The Wind, if Scarlett had had no passion, no zeal for life, and could be broken any old time. Frankly, I found Maxim de Winter dull and lifeless from beginning to end. It seems to me the late 30’s is an era filled with books about what a person will do to keep their beloved home; lie, cheat, steal, and kill if they must. No price is too great to pay for their abode.
I was almost glad Mrs. Danvers burned the house down, destroying Manderley. She seemed the only charcater that really loved anyone and knew she would deliver a fatal blow to Maxim by destroying his true love…his beloved estate.