"Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again."
Rebecca starts with the narration of a sweet, naive heroine. Maybe not so naive anymore after being exposed to the pains of life, but still shy and quiet, a regular and unremarkable woman you can find in any place.
This book is not about her.
Our heroine is the narrator. It's life from her eyes we're seeing. And yet, everything is Rebecca. Rebecca, that was perfect in every way. Rebecca, that was the most beautiful creature to ever walk earth. Rebecca, that died before the story even started, and yet still manages to be the protagonist. Manderley is still all hers, even months after her death. Little pieces of her perfection are spread all over the house, and her presence haunts our protagonist, that fears she can never be viewed as Rebecca once was. And she can't.
How can we win against someone that still manages to be the main point of many lives, even after death?
And the twist, oh the twist. As evidenced by my lovely fellow reviewers, I was pretty shook.
(Thanks everyone I'm still shook)
"I am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love. For it is a fever, and a burden, too, whatever the poets may say."
Even the scenery description was perfect. Sometimes I thought I was in Manderley. I could read about our heroine describing flowers for ours and not get bored. This was a stellar read and I'm glad it's still being praised so many years after being written.
We even get creepy Mrs. Danvers as a plus! I loved her!
Sentence: *vague, distant noises of happiness and pain.*