Sorry I am a bit late to the party... but revisiting Rebecca did leave me with a couple of questions. The big one that I noticed this time was the question of class when we discuss gender. Mrs de Winter is always being criticized for her lack of gumption in comparison with Rebecca, this fabulous iconoclast, but I noticed that many of their actions seem dictated by class AND gender, and to miss out class when we read their gender is to miss some of the point.
Mrs de Winter comes from the middle class precariat, her father could lose everything. This is classic governess territory from the Brontes and Henry James; and a lot of her actions have to be read through that kind of lense. A good governess doesn't associate with the servants, but has no role over them. Good governesses and companions don't take charge, they put themselves last. Her self-effacement reminds me a lot of how older members of my family, who similarly did have to go into service, gave advice about life and entering the workplace; don't give out personal information freely, never aspire, never presume intimacy or friendship or to take someone else's 'place.' But, on the other hand, this was the secret to success in a career in those days. This book, by the way, was one of their absolute favourites, and I think it was because it showed a woman of their class and situation 'winning', at least in some ways, while retaining all of these values. They'd after all be the key demographic for a book like this. Interesting, though, over time, as these attitudes have been challenged, that we give Mrs de Winter a harder time. We end up asking, along with her, why she couldn't be more like Rebecca. The answer, though, is about class, not just gender; she feels inadequate because she hasn't been 'bred' for the role.
Rebecca, on the other hand, is successful as an aristocratic woman, which is exactly why Mrs Danvers rubs it in. The horse taming, the house parties, the lifelong servant, these are all conspicuous markers of upper class privilege. They remind you of those glamour spreads in society magazines; they are superficially desirable. Power is normal for someone born into power; what Rebecca gets wrong in her dealings with Maxim is to make it so obvious that she wants to be a sham. This is actually why she is still attractive, in a subversive way, I think; she knows her own worth and power. What is interesting, though, is the way that the lower class narrator subtly makes this seem 'unnatural'; inviting huge crowds you don't know to dress up, making a horse bleed as an example of your authority, or keeping a woman so subsumed in caring for you that you become a replacement daughter/ lover is creepy, even if it doesn't necessarily justify murder (but that's for another post). Rebecca should have been more vulnerable, she suggests, like her; it's a stand-off between her middle class morality and Rebecca's upper class manners. That means it's a clash of monogamy, duty, discretion as secrecy, and, well, misery - the opening chapters are a subtle warning not to take the ending too literally as a triumph - and upper class mores which famously were much more open to self-gratification and infidelity as long as appearances got kept up. In the end, neither of them really win as such; if Rebecca's murder remains hidden, the fire hurts Maxim right were he hurts most, at his aristocratic and patriarchal identity. The aristocracy and it's servants, Mrs Danvers, don't let the lower orders in, with their revolutionary notions of sentimentality and deference, but then Maxim won't let Rebecca in because in a way, she is actually a fake aristocrat, she's too aware of the act to be 'real' (which is another post again :) )
P.S. Sally Beauman brought this out a bit in 'Rebecca's Story' as well imo.
Mrs de Winter comes from the middle class precariat, her father could lose everything. This is classic governess territory from the Brontes and Henry James; and a lot of her actions have to be read through that kind of lense. A good governess doesn't associate with the servants, but has no role over them. Good governesses and companions don't take charge, they put themselves last. Her self-effacement reminds me a lot of how older members of my family, who similarly did have to go into service, gave advice about life and entering the workplace; don't give out personal information freely, never aspire, never presume intimacy or friendship or to take someone else's 'place.' But, on the other hand, this was the secret to success in a career in those days. This book, by the way, was one of their absolute favourites, and I think it was because it showed a woman of their class and situation 'winning', at least in some ways, while retaining all of these values. They'd after all be the key demographic for a book like this. Interesting, though, over time, as these attitudes have been challenged, that we give Mrs de Winter a harder time. We end up asking, along with her, why she couldn't be more like Rebecca. The answer, though, is about class, not just gender; she feels inadequate because she hasn't been 'bred' for the role.
Rebecca, on the other hand, is successful as an aristocratic woman, which is exactly why Mrs Danvers rubs it in. The horse taming, the house parties, the lifelong servant, these are all conspicuous markers of upper class privilege. They remind you of those glamour spreads in society magazines; they are superficially desirable. Power is normal for someone born into power; what Rebecca gets wrong in her dealings with Maxim is to make it so obvious that she wants to be a sham. This is actually why she is still attractive, in a subversive way, I think; she knows her own worth and power. What is interesting, though, is the way that the lower class narrator subtly makes this seem 'unnatural'; inviting huge crowds you don't know to dress up, making a horse bleed as an example of your authority, or keeping a woman so subsumed in caring for you that you become a replacement daughter/ lover is creepy, even if it doesn't necessarily justify murder (but that's for another post). Rebecca should have been more vulnerable, she suggests, like her; it's a stand-off between her middle class morality and Rebecca's upper class manners. That means it's a clash of monogamy, duty, discretion as secrecy, and, well, misery - the opening chapters are a subtle warning not to take the ending too literally as a triumph - and upper class mores which famously were much more open to self-gratification and infidelity as long as appearances got kept up. In the end, neither of them really win as such; if Rebecca's murder remains hidden, the fire hurts Maxim right were he hurts most, at his aristocratic and patriarchal identity. The aristocracy and it's servants, Mrs Danvers, don't let the lower orders in, with their revolutionary notions of sentimentality and deference, but then Maxim won't let Rebecca in because in a way, she is actually a fake aristocrat, she's too aware of the act to be 'real' (which is another post again :) )
P.S. Sally Beauman brought this out a bit in 'Rebecca's Story' as well imo.