Or flint and steel? 
vivico1 wrote:
Yeah you're right. But who had the dang matches??!!
dulcinea3 wrote:
I don't know about that. Based on my interpretation of the novel, it was Miss Scarlet with the rope in the conservatory. So we're back where we started - nothing is certain!
AHA! now we know! It was Mrs White, in the observatory with the STEEL pipe!! She used it to murder with and to set the fire! I never did trust her you know. Always busy around the mansion, always dusting!
Peppermill wrote:vivico1 wrote:Yeah you're right. But who had the dang matches??!!
dulcinea3 wrote:
I don't know about that. Based on my interpretation of the novel, it was Miss Scarlet with the rope in the conservatory. So we're back where we started - nothing is certain!
Article about Rebecca and Desdemona.
I am reading this article and finding parts of it very interesting. Though I'm not convinced by all the parallels with Othello , the writer offers good insights into Rebecca. As it is a very long article, I'm going to paste the paragraphs I like best.
Highlighting in the text is mine.
"Rebecca as Desdemona" by Kathleen Butterley Nigro.
The common assumption about Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca figures the first Mrs. de Winter as a secretly conniving manipulator who had convinced the world that she was as morally flawless as she was beautiful. According to the second Mrs. de Winter, the narrator of the novel, Maxim murdered Rebecca justifiably: only he knew the true, corrupt Rebecca. What if, however, Maxim is the one who is lying, and Rebecca was as good as reputation held her
About this first paragraph, I was struck by the fact that nobody ever makes any comment about Rebecca's goodness: only about her charm, her great beauty, her breeding, what a competent hostess she was...
Nobody says that she was a good friend, that she was involved in charity for example, that she did anything for anybody... She was perfect for the superficial world in which she lived, but even those who "loved" her, like Mrs Danvers, fail to give any reason that has to do with any personal qualities she might have had.
Joanna Russ writes that another characteristic of the "passive protagonists" is that they "can be unknowingly involved in some family/criminal secret" (1983, 49). The notion of secrecy pervades both the novel and the play 5 In the narrator's initial nightmare, Manderley is "secretive and silent"; Maxim never reveals his thoughts to her and keeps his "secret troubles" to himself. Allan Lloyd Smith writes of two aspects of the secrets in Rebecca: one is that the aristocracy, represented by Rebecca who possessed "breeding, brains, and beauty" was really corrupt underneath (1992, 305). "I put Manderley first, before anything else," Maxim tells the narrator, explaining his motivation for murdering his first wife (du Maurier 1971, 273-74). She responds in support of him, exonerating his guilt about the secret and still offering her love, the appropriate reaction for the "fully socialized adult female," according to Smith (1992, 305).
The other "hidden" element is the "murderous response of a fully socialized adult male to the sexual freedom of his wife" (Smith 1992, 305).6 This incident reflects the response to a threat to the "patriarchal heritage" of Manderley However, it is interesting that when Doctor Baker is finally located to reveal the medical condition of Rebecca, he reports that she had a malformation of the uterus and could not have produced children anyway7 Not only does this reinforce that aspect of female Gothics outlined by Juliann Fleenor concerning a negative feeling toward female reproduction, it also implies an unhealthiness in the social state: once the narrator believes that Rebecca was "evil and vicious and rotten" (du Maurier1971, 284), her personal feelings of inadequacy are erased.
(...)
The references to secrecy reinforced by the lock and key imagery in Othello and in Rebecca's now-unlocked cottage*support Juliann Fleenor's assertion that female Gothics explore attempts to enclose the heroine both literally and psychologically.
In addition to the locked room, according to Fleenor, the ruined castle is a typical Gothic setting in which the entrapment of the heroine takes place (1983,15). Manderley is not ruined, of course, until the final scene of the novel, but the idea of its being enchanted frames the narrator's memory. As a dreamer, she walks "enchanted" through the grounds of Manderley; the night of the ball Manderley is "an enchanted house . . . bewitched." During the novel's final days, the narrator feels as though it is invulnerable: "No one would ever hurt Manderley It would lie always in its hollow like an enchanted thing, guarded by the woods, safe, secure . . . ." (du Maurier 1971, 357)
(...)
* Maxim says that the cottage as no business being unlocked.
In both works, the men respond to a catalyst that feeds their jealousy. In Othello, that catalyst is Iago. He goads Othello with the persistent mention of the handkerchief, and the image of Desdemona and Cassio in bed together, "naked with her friend in bed / An hour or more" (perhaps a jab at the "honor" of Othello's virility) drives Othello to distraction: "It is hypocrisy against the Devil" (4.1.3-6). In Rebecca, the destructive catalyst is Mrs. Danvers, who subtly* induces the narrator to dress as Caroline de Winter in the same costume as Rebecca had worn at the last dress ball. She realizes that Mrs. Danvers had manipulated the entire scene: "I shall never forget the expression on her face, loathsome, triumphant. The face of an exulting devil" (du Maurier 1971, 214). The devil imagery that recurs in both works of course increases the atmosphere of mystery but, even more, it emphasizes the character doubling and the sense of terror that oppresses both the narrator and Desdemona.
In Othello, Desdemona feels that her husband is transformed with anger and it frightens her because he is no longer recognizable to her: "Upon my knees, what doth your speech import? / I understand a fury in your words, But not the words" (4.2.31-32). Desdemona places herself in a completely submissive position to Othello, just as the narrator does at the dress ball, after she has displeased Maxim with her costume. "His face was a mask, his smile was not his own," and he will not speak to her: "We were like two performers in a play, but we were divided, we were not acting with one another" (du Maurier 1971, 225). In both instances, a sense of terror motivates the women to humble themselves completely and drives any other thought from their minds.
* I have written in another post that I found that Mrs Danvers' hints were anything but subtle.
Great post again Ophelia - I think we have mentioned in passing a lot of what is opined here but the comparison to Desdemona/Othello is new.
I agree that 'that the aristocracy, represented by Rebecca who possessed "breeding, brains, and beauty" was really corrupt underneath' and as I have posted elsewhere, the affair between the Prince of Wales and Mrs Wallis Simpson exposed the underside of royalty at this time. There were quite a lot of reports in the press about the 'goings on' including drug taking, of members of the royal family and other aristocrats in the 30s. It was one of the reasons behind the rise of the Labour Party, who championed the rights of the working man and exposed the corruptions in 'society' life.There was also an undercurrent of corruption in Du Maurier's family life, especially in her relationship to her father.
opheliainfrance wrote:
Article about Rebecca and Desdemona.
I am reading this article and finding parts of it very interesting. Though I'm not convinced by all the parallels with Othello , the writer offers good insights into Rebecca. As it is a very long article, I'm going to paste the paragraphs I like best.
Highlighting in the text is mine.
"Rebecca as Desdemona" by Kathleen Butterley Nigro.
The common assumption about Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca figures the first Mrs. de Winter as a secretly conniving manipulator who had convinced the world that she was as morally flawless as she was beautiful. According to the second Mrs. de Winter, the narrator of the novel, Maxim murdered Rebecca justifiably: only he knew the true, corrupt Rebecca. What if, however, Maxim is the one who is lying, and Rebecca was as good as reputation held her
About this first paragraph, I was struck by the fact that nobody ever makes any comment about Rebecca's goodness: only about her charm, her great beauty, her breeding, what a competent hostess she was...
Nobody says that she was a good friend, that she was involved in charity for example, that she did anything for anybody... She was perfect for the superficial world in which she lived, but even those who "loved" her, like Mrs Danvers, fail to give any reason that has to do with any personal qualities she might have had.
Joanna Russ writes that another characteristic of the "passive protagonists" is that they "can be unknowingly involved in some family/criminal secret" (1983, 49). The notion of secrecy pervades both the novel and the play 5 In the narrator's initial nightmare, Manderley is "secretive and silent"; Maxim never reveals his thoughts to her and keeps his "secret troubles" to himself. Allan Lloyd Smith writes of two aspects of the secrets in Rebecca: one is that the aristocracy, represented by Rebecca who possessed "breeding, brains, and beauty" was really corrupt underneath (1992, 305). "I put Manderley first, before anything else," Maxim tells the narrator, explaining his motivation for murdering his first wife (du Maurier 1971, 273-74). She responds in support of him, exonerating his guilt about the secret and still offering her love, the appropriate reaction for the "fully socialized adult female," according to Smith (1992, 305).
(...)The other "hidden" element is the "murderous response of a fully socialized adult male to the sexual freedom of his wife" (Smith 1992, 305).6 This incident reflects the response to a threat to the "patriarchal heritage" of Manderley However, it is interesting that when Doctor Baker is finally located to reveal the medical condition of Rebecca, he reports that she had a malformation of the uterus and could not have produced children anyway7 Not only does this reinforce that aspect of female Gothics outlined by Juliann Fleenor concerning a negative feeling toward female reproduction, it also implies an unhealthiness in the social state: once the narrator believes that Rebecca was "evil and vicious and rotten" (du Maurier1971, 284), her personal feelings of inadequacy are erased.
(...)
The references to secrecy reinforced by the lock and key imagery in Othello and in Rebecca's now-unlocked cottage*support Juliann Fleenor's assertion that female Gothics explore attempts to enclose the heroine both literally and psychologically.
In addition to the locked room, according to Fleenor, the ruined castle is a typical Gothic setting in which the entrapment of the heroine takes place (1983,15). Manderley is not ruined, of course, until the final scene of the novel, but the idea of its being enchanted frames the narrator's memory. As a dreamer, she walks "enchanted" through the grounds of Manderley; the night of the ball Manderley is "an enchanted house . . . bewitched." During the novel's final days, the narrator feels as though it is invulnerable: "No one would ever hurt Manderley It would lie always in its hollow like an enchanted thing, guarded by the woods, safe, secure . . . ." (du Maurier 1971, 357)
(...)
* Maxim says that the cottage as no business being unlocked.
In both works, the men respond to a catalyst that feeds their jealousy. In Othello, that catalyst is Iago. He goads Othello with the persistent mention of the handkerchief, and the image of Desdemona and Cassio in bed together, "naked with her friend in bed / An hour or more" (perhaps a jab at the "honor" of Othello's virility) drives Othello to distraction: "It is hypocrisy against the Devil" (4.1.3-6). In Rebecca, the destructive catalyst is Mrs. Danvers, who subtly* induces the narrator to dress as Caroline de Winter in the same costume as Rebecca had worn at the last dress ball. She realizes that Mrs. Danvers had manipulated the entire scene: "I shall never forget the expression on her face, loathsome, triumphant. The face of an exulting devil" (du Maurier 1971, 214). The devil imagery that recurs in both works of course increases the atmosphere of mystery but, even more, it emphasizes the character doubling and the sense of terror that oppresses both the narrator and Desdemona.
In Othello, Desdemona feels that her husband is transformed with anger and it frightens her because he is no longer recognizable to her: "Upon my knees, what doth your speech import? / I understand a fury in your words, But not the words" (4.2.31-32). Desdemona places herself in a completely submissive position to Othello, just as the narrator does at the dress ball, after she has displeased Maxim with her costume. "His face was a mask, his smile was not his own," and he will not speak to her: "We were like two performers in a play, but we were divided, we were not acting with one another" (du Maurier 1971, 225). In both instances, a sense of terror motivates the women to humble themselves completely and drives any other thought from their minds.
* I have written in another post that I found that Mrs Danvers' hints were anything but subtle.
Very interest, Ophelia. Thanks for posting.
From your post and the little from the article I have skimmed, I am also skeptical. The problem, I think, is that by careful selection one could make such a comparison with many, many female characters from literature (and perhaps many from history). Of course, there aren't that many who were killed by their husbands, but you could, for example, cite Agamemnon's wife Clytemnestra, who made sure to kill him before he got the chance to kill her.
opheliainfrance wrote:Article about Rebecca and Desdemona.
I am reading this article and finding parts of it very interesting. Though I'm not convinced by all the parallels with Othello , the writer offers good insights into Rebecca. As it is a very long article, I'm going to paste the paragraphs I like best.
Highlighting in the text is mine.
"Rebecca as Desdemona" by Kathleen Butterley Nigro.
The common assumption about Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca figures the first Mrs. de Winter as a secretly conniving manipulator who had convinced the world that she was as morally flawless as she was beautiful. According to the second Mrs. de Winter, the narrator of the novel, Maxim murdered Rebecca justifiably: only he knew the true, corrupt Rebecca. What if, however, Maxim is the one who is lying, and Rebecca was as good as reputation held her
About this first paragraph, I was struck by the fact that nobody ever makes any comment about Rebecca's goodness: only about her charm, her great beauty, her breeding, what a competent hostess she was...
Nobody says that she was a good friend, that she was involved in charity for example, that she did anything for anybody... She was perfect for the superficial world in which she lived, but even those who "loved" her, like Mrs Danvers, fail to give any reason that has to do with any personal qualities she might have had.
Joanna Russ writes that another characteristic of the "passive protagonists" is that they "can be unknowingly involved in some family/criminal secret" (1983, 49). The notion of secrecy pervades both the novel and the play 5 In the narrator's initial nightmare, Manderley is "secretive and silent"; Maxim never reveals his thoughts to her and keeps his "secret troubles" to himself. Allan Lloyd Smith writes of two aspects of the secrets in Rebecca: one is that the aristocracy, represented by Rebecca who possessed "breeding, brains, and beauty" was really corrupt underneath (1992, 305). "I put Manderley first, before anything else," Maxim tells the narrator, explaining his motivation for murdering his first wife (du Maurier 1971, 273-74). She responds in support of him, exonerating his guilt about the secret and still offering her love, the appropriate reaction for the "fully socialized adult female," according to Smith (1992, 305).
(...)The other "hidden" element is the "murderous response of a fully socialized adult male to the sexual freedom of his wife" (Smith 1992, 305).6 This incident reflects the response to a threat to the "patriarchal heritage" of Manderley However, it is interesting that when Doctor Baker is finally located to reveal the medical condition of Rebecca, he reports that she had a malformation of the uterus and could not have produced children anyway7 Not only does this reinforce that aspect of female Gothics outlined by Juliann Fleenor concerning a negative feeling toward female reproduction, it also implies an unhealthiness in the social state: once the narrator believes that Rebecca was "evil and vicious and rotten" (du Maurier1971, 284), her personal feelings of inadequacy are erased.
(...)
The references to secrecy reinforced by the lock and key imagery in Othello and in Rebecca's now-unlocked cottage*support Juliann Fleenor's assertion that female Gothics explore attempts to enclose the heroine both literally and psychologically.
In addition to the locked room, according to Fleenor, the ruined castle is a typical Gothic setting in which the entrapment of the heroine takes place (1983,15). Manderley is not ruined, of course, until the final scene of the novel, but the idea of its being enchanted frames the narrator's memory. As a dreamer, she walks "enchanted" through the grounds of Manderley; the night of the ball Manderley is "an enchanted house . . . bewitched." During the novel's final days, the narrator feels as though it is invulnerable: "No one would ever hurt Manderley It would lie always in its hollow like an enchanted thing, guarded by the woods, safe, secure . . . ." (du Maurier 1971, 357)
(...)
* Maxim says that the cottage as no business being unlocked.
In both works, the men respond to a catalyst that feeds their jealousy. In Othello, that catalyst is Iago. He goads Othello with the persistent mention of the handkerchief, and the image of Desdemona and Cassio in bed together, "naked with her friend in bed / An hour or more" (perhaps a jab at the "honor" of Othello's virility) drives Othello to distraction: "It is hypocrisy against the Devil" (4.1.3-6). In Rebecca, the destructive catalyst is Mrs. Danvers, who subtly* induces the narrator to dress as Caroline de Winter in the same costume as Rebecca had worn at the last dress ball. She realizes that Mrs. Danvers had manipulated the entire scene: "I shall never forget the expression on her face, loathsome, triumphant. The face of an exulting devil" (du Maurier 1971, 214). The devil imagery that recurs in both works of course increases the atmosphere of mystery but, even more, it emphasizes the character doubling and the sense of terror that oppresses both the narrator and Desdemona.
In Othello, Desdemona feels that her husband is transformed with anger and it frightens her because he is no longer recognizable to her: "Upon my knees, what doth your speech import? / I understand a fury in your words, But not the words" (4.2.31-32). Desdemona places herself in a completely submissive position to Othello, just as the narrator does at the dress ball, after she has displeased Maxim with her costume. "His face was a mask, his smile was not his own," and he will not speak to her: "We were like two performers in a play, but we were divided, we were not acting with one another" (du Maurier 1971, 225). In both instances, a sense of terror motivates the women to humble themselves completely and drives any other thought from their minds.
* I have written in another post that I found that Mrs Danvers' hints were anything but subtle.
I just hope the Hound of Heaven caught them sometime after the end of the novel so they really can live happily ever after. 
Choisya wrote:But I don't think they do live happily ever after Laurel! They are leading a very miserable life in exile (see my post to Lizzie-Ann). That is another 'moral' way of ending the novel surely? Ophelia has also posted some literary analysis which suggests that the novel/DdM is trying to show the corrupt nature of the upper classes at this time. They did (do?) get away with a lot of things which we ordinary mortals would be punished for.
Laurel wrote:Lizzie, I feel the same way as you. We may be accused of being prissy moralizers, but that's okay. I do believe in certain standards of right and wrong, and the "I'll help you get away with it and we'll live happily ever after" ending spoils the book for me. That being said, it is a page-turner and, I think, very poetically written in places. And I have read it twice, the first time many years ago.
LizzieAnn wrote:Finally was able to push myself to finish Rebecca. I know I'm in the minority here, but I just wasn't that crazy about it. It bothers me that the author wants me to accept that Max is able to murder his first wife and get away with it legally. I understand that he's suffered in others ways - and the loss of Manderley & the nomadic life they must now lead can be considered punishment. Yet, to all intents and purposes - he got away with murder.
Yes, Rebecca is painted as an extremely evil & cruel person, but does that mean Max is justified in what he's done. After all, it was his pride as much as Rebecca's actions that put these events in motion. I find this as difficult to accept as it was to accept the fact that the narrator takes Max's confession as proof that he must be in love with her and not Rebecca.
Again, this is just my opinion, but I didn't find the novel as satisfactory as I had anticipated.
