Rebecca
Daphne du Maurier, 1938
Mystery, thriller & crime RomanceLiterary fictionContemporary fiction
A shy young bride arrives at a grand Cornish house still shadowed by her husband's first wife. Atmosphere, jealousy and suspense, and a famous opening dream.
Feels like dread. About memory, love and society.
A page from the book
The house you can never return to, waiting at the end of the road.
The road to Manderley lay ahead. There was no moon. The sky above our heads was inky black. But the sky on the horizon was not dark at all. It was shot with crimson, like a splash of blood. And the ashes blew towards us with the salt wind from the sea. Daphne du Maurier.Du Maurier came from a theatrical family: her father Gerald was a celebrated actor-manager and her grandfather George wrote Trilby, the novel that gave us Svengali.
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Questions readers ask
- What is Rebecca like?
- Feels like dread. About memory, love and society.
- What should I read after Rebecca?
- If you liked Rebecca, try The Only One Left (Riley Sager), The Remains of the Day (Kazuo Ishiguro) and The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (Stieg Larsson).
A taste of the feed
What someone says when they know you’ve already decided.
But that’s not what you’re most curious about, is it? You want to know if I’m as evil as everyone says I am. The answer is no. And yes.
The Only One Left · Riley Sager
What a wall of forty-three pressed flowers can tell you that the police never could.
After putting down the telephone the eighty-two-year-old birthday boy sat for a long time looking at the pretty but meaningless flower whose name he did not yet know. Then he looked up at the wall above his desk. There hung forty-three pressed flowers in their frames. Four rows of ten, and one at the bottom with four. In the top row one was missing from the ninth slot. Desert Snow would be number forty-four.
The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo · Stieg Larsson
A self-portrait in dislikes, lucky fingers, and one very flat sentence.
My name is Mary Katherine Blackwood. I am eighteen years old, and I live with my sister Constance. I have often thought that with any luck at all, I could have been born a werewolf, because the two middle fingers on both my hands are the same length, but I have had to be content with what I had. I dislike washing myself, and dogs, and noise. I like my sister Constance, and Richard Plantagenet, and Amanita phalloides, the death-cup mushroom. Everyone else in our family is dead.
We Have Always Lived in the Castle · Shirley Jackson
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