Mrs de Winter, book review. (Susan Hill)

Having just reread Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca (see 27/6/21 post), loving it just as much

as I did the first time, and being thoroughly in awe of the author once again - My Cousin Rachel and Frenchman's Creek having cemented my love for her books even more - I thought I would reread this, Susan Hill's sequel, straight after.

With Susan Hill also in my top ten authors, I had high hopes, and coming off of the back of Rebecca, with all that went on at Manderley fresh in my mind, it was the right thing to do.

So, over a decade has passed since our unnamed narrator and her husband (and murderer) Max de Winter fled to Europe. The authorities do not pursue them, for the death of his first wife Rebecca was deemed an accident, but the memories of her death, the burning of Manderley, the bribery attempt by Rebecca's cousin, Jack Favell and the cold icy fear that Mrs Danvers installed in the first book, still do, so they stay away, far, far away, until . . .
They are summonsed back to England for a funeral.
Max's sister has died.

They arrive back in the nick of time, planning to stay only a shot while - only long enough to settle some affairs, put the estate in order et cetera, but Frank Crawley, Max's right-hand man from Manderley is there, and he is well and enjoying life in the highlands of Scotland, so they must visit him before they depart - take flight! - surely?

As with Rebecca, the tension in this book is subtle at first: our narrator being concerned for Max's health if they return, what people might say and think; that everyone will remember the outcome of the inquest into Rebecca's death but possibly have had their heads turned in their absence, but when those fears do not materialise and they find an idyllic but somewhat neglected Manor House in the Cotswolds, all seems well with the world.
Then, Jack Favell! Rebecca's cousin and lover.
The chance encounter with Favell in London brings to the fore our narrator's fears, and the lies she tells as to why she's there, along with the demands for money that begin to arrive a few weeks later, create more tension, and her and Max's relationship becomes tense, and then . . .
Mrs Danvers, and the De Winter's relationship hardens further, the garden party that Mrs de Winter was so looking forward too ceases to hold interest - painful memories of the Manderley ball come flooding back - trust is lost and secrets are revealed and . . . and . . .

Susan Hill's writing is as always, exemplary, but I did find some elements of the story a little drawn out, not quite as punchy as they could have been and I wondered whether a shorter book might have been better, but with passages like, 'It was not the the flowers at which I started, in horror, not the printed words that chilled me, splintered the sky and fractured the song of the blackbird, darkened the sun. It was the single handwritten letter, black and strong, tall and sloping. R,' you can see why I hold the author in such high esteem.

Three and a half stars for Mrs de Winter then. A thoroughly good read.

Don't forget, search my blog for your favourite authors and books and if I haven't read them message me with your recommendations.

 

2021 - The year of the reread. Books I've loved so much I'm having to revisit.

Do you have a favourite book?
Is it long, short? Did you read it at a time that was poignant? Is it a book about love that you read after a breakup? A book about an apocalyptic virus that you read last year?!! Or is it a favourite from childhood that still has you turning the pages and laughing, screaming, crying, in all the same places? Well, whatever it is - and speaking to the readers and writers I know, it seems that most of us do have a favourite, or at least a top five that's forever fluid because we just can't decide in which order to place them - I've decided to reread some of my favourites (Harry Potter excluded).
I'll need a bit of filler though because there's some big old tomes here - that copy of, The Stand in the picture, is one thousand four hundred and twenty pages, so I won't be going for volume (I read forty-one books last year so I'll be lucky to make half that this) but needs must.
Clive Barker is an author from my childhood and his ability to create worlds that seem so fantastical but so real, is both startling and brilliant, so I intend to revisit his superb, Imajica - which, along with his Weaveworld and Two Books of the Art, The Great and Secret Show and Everville are amongst those that have influenced my own writing more than any.
Having supped on the delights of Frenchman's Creek and My Cousin Rachel in recent years it feels like an age since I read Rebecca and its sequel, Mrs de Winter (did you know it had a sequel?) as does my last visit to Hobbiton, to Frodo, Gandalf and Sam, in a book that needs no introduction, that I first read as a teenager and understood a lot more as an adult (but that was near on twenty years ago now) so again, the need to dip one's toes in the waters of the Brandywine river and share that epic adventure again has begun to outweigh the compulsion to read something new.
There's nothing wrong with something new of course. I have never completed Stieg Larssons's Millennium trilogy, so this will be part reread and part first read, as will reading Stephen King's Dark Tower for the first time, having reread the first six books over the last year or two, so I'm not completely mad, I have got some new (to me anyway) books lined up for the coming year.
There's the latest Rivers of London book, False Value to read, before the next one comes out, Malorie, the sequel to Bird Box - which you might know from the film of the same name - the final book in the unbelievably superb Cemetery of Forgotten Books series, The Labyrinth of the Spirits (which I'm probably looking forward to the most) and a whole host of others that I'm sure will steer me from my path, but you can rest assured I'll keep you all posted, whatever happens.
Happy reading folks and stay safe.

Don't forget to search my blog for your favourite authors and books and if I haven't read them yet why not message me with your recommendations.

Frenchman's Creek, book review. (Daphne du Maurier)

There's an old adage that I bet you've all used at least once in your lives: Never judge a book by its cover, and with this book - well, the edition I read anyway - that couldn't be further from the truth.

We're back in Cornwall (it is du Maurier after all) and we're at the country estate of Navron House, but hold on a minute, what's this? Our heroine, Lady Dona St. Columb has left her husband in London and demanded to be left in peace. Has told him that she requires space to think, a place to be herself, free from the confines of their life in the city, the endless dinner parties, polite smiles and acceptance of invitations from people she doesn't actually like or care for!

Oh, and it gets better.

There's a pirate on the lose, a Frenchman at that, and he's outwitting the local lords and landowners, pilfering their wares and interfering with their womenfolk, or so it is said, but on stumbling upon a ship in a creek by her land, Lady Dona is kidnapped, albeit temporarily - for the pirate is indeed a thief and a philanderer - but he's also much, much more.

He is not slovenly or cutthroat, his ship and his crew are honourable hard working thieves and furthermore, this dashing pirate (Aubery) knows more about her ladyship than he has any right too; but how?

Well, we soon find out and their love affair unfolds, and there is passion and nudity, sex and thievery - bear in mind here that this book was written in nineteen forty-one by a woman - and I love that she writes so passionately about a woman cutting her ties from her husband, freeing herself from the life that was expected or her, on entering into an adulterous affair with a pirate, and a Frenchman to boot (you should remember that the war was on and France had fallen when this book was first published).

Du Maurier's flagrant disregard for propriety is one thing but her depth of characters, her ability to have the reader rooting for the pirate and the adulterer as opposed the law abiding citizenry of Cornwall - whose possessions and women are being stolen and defiled remember - is simply brilliant, and talking of brilliance, Aubery's daring raid on Navron house and Lady Dona's dinner party, where he and his cohorts rob her guests of their jewels and their dignity, the theft of Phillip Rashleigh's merchant ship from the harbour in Fowey and the Frenchman's escape attempt at the end (no spoilers here) drip so delectably from the page you just drink them in and are, in my opinion, worth reading the book for alone.

This is only the third du Maurier book I've read and as with My Cousin Rachel, which I put off reading for fear I wouldn't like it as much as Rebecca, it has been sitting on my shelf for well over a year but as soon as I finished the first chapter I knew I'd made that same mistake, I'd left it too long. Du Maurier's writing is simply superb here, her grasp of the English language sublime and with it's period use of certain words, is a joy to read - Susan Hill I think, is her modern equivalent and is why she was given permission to scribe Rebecca's sequel, Mrs De Winter - but I don't think even she can equal du Maurier and you all know how much I love Susan Hill.

Frenchman's Creek is only a short book but it lacked nothing for it. Four and a half stars.

Don't forget to search my blog for your favourite authors and books. If I haven't read them yet why not message me with your recommendations.

Susan Hill. (Author focus).

Something new for the blog today: a focus on one of my favourite authors, Susan Hill.

It was after reading, Air & Angels and it subsequently becoming my book of the year 2017, (blog post 01/01/18), that I started thinking about what else this author had written; what other books in her extensive back catalogue I had read, and so, I thought maybe I'd start a new series of posts that focus on the author, not just individual books.

Since the delicate and poetic prose of, Air & Angels, I have read the very atmospheric, The Mist in the Mirror, which makes the hairs on your neck tingle and sends shivers down your spine, (even on a warm autumnal afternoon), and I've just finished, I'm the King of the Castle, a tale of childhood drama, set in the quiet gentile English countryside, where still, the author is able to get your heart racing with just a walk in the woods!

I'm the King of the Castle, did feel a bit dated, it was written in 1970 after all, whereas, Strange Meeting, which is set in France during WWI, gives a poignant reminder to the physical and mental suffering of soldiers at the time, and should be added to anyone's, TBR (to be read) list.

One of Susan Hill's boldest ventures was to write the follow up to one of literature's most famous books, Rebecca, with the sequel, Mrs de Winter, which is also rather good, but without doubt, her most famous book is the amazingly brilliant, Woman in Black, and if I had to recommend just one of the few books of hers that I have read, it would be this one.

Written in the early 80's, that's 1980's by the way, The Woman in Black, is a spooky, creepy, violent, scary, Gothic ghost story of epic proportions, which is not to say it is long, for it is not, but it is a book that stays with you, and since I first read it (thank brother) many years ago, I can't help but see its influence in almost every other ghost story I read.

Set in Victorian England, in a weather drenched Eel Marsh house, you feel the draft through the sashes, the creak of the house as it settles of an eve, and the cold finger of death reaching from the pages when she appears.

Just writing this makes me want to freak myself out again and reread it; brrrrrrh!

So, to conclude, buy a Susan Hill book, the Woman in Black if you like a good scare, but if not, Air & Angels for its poetic prose, Strange Meeting for its thought provoking subject, The Mist in the Mirror, if you like a chiller, but with so many others yet to read, I'm sure that whatever Susan Hill book you choose, you’ll go back for more.

Enjoy.

Mad Mike's writing blog, book of the year 2017

Welcome friends, book bloggers avid readers alike, to my annual book of the year post. This isn't about books written or published this year; this is about the books I have read this year, and with dozens to choose from, it's no easy task.

I won't bore you with a big long list of all my books from 2017, for that you can check out my historic posts or look at Amazon/Goodreads for my reviews, so without further ado:-

In at number five: George Orwell's, 1984. This book is to dystopia, what, The Lord of the Rings is to fantasy, and it's got a lot more to do with modern society than we might care to admit. There’s constant war, a clear divide between the poor, the middle class and the elite (in wealth terms), and technology tracks your every move. Sound scary? Sounds like reality to me, and all dreamt up nearly seventy years ago. (Full review coming soon)

My number four is Justin Cronin's, The Passage; a sublime post-apocalyptic vampire epic, set in the not too distant future, and an eye opener to the possibilities of what could happen if you mess around with mother-nature. A superb blood drenched beginning to an epic trilogy. (Blog post 30/11/17)

In bronze position: The Green Mile, by Stephen King. Wow, what a world we humans have created, what horrors we perpetuate, some - as narrated here - done in the name of justice, legally. Part four, The Bad Death of Eduard Delacroix, is where you'll find the true horror in this book and it's like a punch to the face; make it through that though, and the book as a whole is fabulous. (Blog post 25/12/17)

So, this year’s runner up: My Cousin Rachel by Daphne du Maurier. Tension and suspicion at almost every turn, exquisite characters, beautifully written and I said at the time 'I implore you all, fellow book bloggers, bibliophiles, bookaholics, all the lovely people around the world that might read this post, all who might have done as I have, and left this book to gather dust, read it now,' and over six months later, I still stand by that statement. An absolute gem of a book.
(Blog post 13/06/17)

And my winner, my favourite book of 2017: Air & Angels, by Susan Hill. (Blog post 08/12/17). Going by the dates of my posts you might be thinking that I've picked my top five from books I've read more recently, but you'd be wrong, for I read Air & Angels back in the summer, it's just that its eloquence, its subtle almost poetic prose has stuck with me for all that time and, as if any more evidence is necessary, it is the book that still languishes on my bedside table, the one I pick up from time to time, and read randomly.

'Five big fat gold stars', I said at the time.

An honorary mention must go to, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (and The Half Blood Prince). I've come to the conclusion that these two books together, are the end of this amazing seven book series, not just book seven, and together, they are just untouchable, but, because I read them so frequently that they would end up in the number one slot every year, (which could get a bit boring), I've given them this honorary mention instead.

Air and Angels, book review. (Susan Hill)

FIVE GREAT BIG MASSIVE GOLD STARS.

There, I've said it, there's my review.

Like most bibliophiles, I came across Susan Hill when I read, The Woman in Black, (which is in my top ten books of all time by the way), and then, I read, Mrs De Winter, Susan Hill's sequence to Daphne Du Maurier's, Rebecca, and it was good, not as good as, The Woman in Black, but good all the same. Then, out of nowhere - well, out of a bag of books my brother no longer wanted - I found this, Air and Angels.

WOW!

This book is about as close to poetry as any novel I have read. The words just run across the page like smooth flowing water, drip from the tongue like silk; simply put, I have never read a book so exquisite.

In Cambridge, (famous University city), we have the collage Dean, Thomas Cavendish, his sister, Georgiana, her friend, Florence, (who quite fancies the Dean), and in India, we have Kitty, Florence's cousin, her parents, Lewis and Eleanor, their friends, one of which travels back to England with Kitty in tow, and many more besides.

Simple descriptions provide the reader with all he or she needs to feel, hot in India, cold in Cambridge and isolated in the broads of Norfolk.

I felt so passionate about the brilliance of this book, that I started annotating certain passages, (for people who know me, this will be hard to grasp, for I treat the cheapest and least loved of my books with the greatest respect), and before long I was underlining on almost every page.

I've never done this on my blog before, but because I love this book so much, I'm going to share some of it with you:

In corners and cracks, spiders' webs, and the nests of tiny mice. And when she touched a curtain to draw it back, the faded fabric fell apart, soft as a cloud of powder in her hand.

And no one sees her, no one is aware, except perhaps one man, returning late, glimpses a figure, running before the wind, or a nursemaid, up to a restless child, and, glancing between the curtains, down into the night streets.

But the night drew on, and death lingered outside the door . . .

He felt unreal, bodiless. He felt wonder. Astonishment. Pure, vibrant joy. No dread, no fear, no bewilderment now, but acceptance, as of some miraculous gift. And, looking across at Kitty, love.

So there you have it; a little taster for you. I hope you like what I’ve chosen and that it inspires you to get a copy; you will not be disappointed.