The Read that Made Me Want to Write

It was November of 2019, I believe, when my bookish college roommate gifted me a tattered copy of Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca (1938) for my 20th birthday. It wasn't until the pandemic hit and we were all confined to the walls of our homes that I finally picked it up, but once I did—well, I've never been the same. It was one of those books, for me.

I read the whole of it in a matter of three days. Slamming the book shut, I unceremoniously dubbed it 5 stars on Goodreads and left the following review:

"This novel does an incredible job weaving a murder mystery-slash-ghost story underneath the facade of a romance. The whole story is masterfully done, right down to the title. I absolutely loved the depth and individuality of each character, the rhythmic pacing, the unique progression of the plot, and the ultimate plot twist which left me floored in a way no other book has. A literary masterpiece with the last page sending you right back to the first for a re-read."

But four years later in 2023, I am still moved and altered and all sorts of enraptured by the language of 1930s du Maurier through her character, the second Mrs. de Winter. Most particularly, I found her description of the setting enticing, including her repeated mention of the flowers on Manderley's grounds.

It's one thing to weave a story with an intriguing adventure, but it's a whole separate feat to craft a story almost entirely within the confines of a single setting. Expert relational development and character depth has been woven into it, which goes without saying. It reminds me very much of my first time experiencing Franklin J. Schaffner's Twelve Angry Men (1954, Studio One Season 7 Episode 1), being just blown away by the complexities of each character and the careful progression of the story arc.

Really, there isn't enough space for all the good things I could say about this read. I could quite literally write a book about it. But it was the language of this book that transported me to a time and place I've never been, enchanting me so completely that I'm sure I left a piece of me between the pages when I closed it.

Reading Rebecca was the moment that my childhood dream of writing a magical book was re-awakened. I'm not sure I'll ever pay it proper tribute, no matter how many words I put on the page.