Retro Review: Rebecca
/When I started this blog, I had been posting reviews on Goodreads for about 6 months. In the interest of having all of my book writing in one place, I will post one of these old reviews every Friday. They weren't written with a blog in mind, so please forgive the lack of summary and off-the-cuff tone.
5 stars. Yikes. Yikes. This book.
It's a masterpiece. A true masterpiece.
I feasted on this novel. Absolutely dined on it. I devoured it in two days and was shocked to come to its end. It's incredible.
The writing is masterful and the storytelling is atmospheric and layered. It touches on so many things: the power of a place and its many unrealized secrets; the stubborn naivete and innocence of youth; the wired, uneasy journey into adulthood; the constant inner battle for a certain sense of self; the pressures of society and the lousy insensitivity of human nature; the tragedy of being a woman.
It's very captivating, and very horrifying, and a true gift.
I will admit that halfway through the book I was disappointed. I felt so uncomfortable and awkward reading about a hypersensitive girl making her way through a tough world. This is either a testament to the powerful writing or my own personality, but I personally felt Rebecca's presence, constantly whispering in my ear, telling me I would never live up to her, would never escape her shadow. Anyone who suffers from insecurities or anxiety will relate to the narrator's extremely accurate voice. It wasn't creepy, it was too real.
But then the revelation! The other shoe dropped, and as it turns out, it was a perfect fit. And I truly didn't anticipate the twists and turns - which I really appreciate in a world of predictable storytelling.
To those who criticized the book due to the thoughts/actions of the narrator: just because an author writes from a character's perspective does not mean the author agrees with or supports or resembles the character in any way. This should be obvious. The narrator in this story is sensitive, timid, terrified, ignorant, innocent, naive, misguided, and annoying. This is not my interpretation of her, this is how she is portrayed. It's intentional! Her desire to be loved leads her to stay married to a murderer. That is not a "heroine" in any sense of the word.
It really doesn't matter. It just doesn't. I found myself totally immersed in this story, heartbroken for both Rebecca and the narrator. Am I, as a woman, not somehow both of them? Required to be pleasant yet obligated to be direct? Failing to be simultaneously submissive and independent, as is demanded of me? Caught between doing what's expected and doing what feels right? Navigating a world that wants me to be both the Jezebel and the Madonna?
This book is a nightmare. A perfect, Gothic nightmare.