Let's Bust a Recap : Rebecca

"Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again..."

Can you even talk about Rebecca without quoting Daphne du Maurier's iconic opening line? I think not. 

Rebecca, originally published in 1938, started popping up all over my radar when I began looking at book lists on the internet. You know the ones. With titles like "BBC's Top 100 Books You Need to Read Before You Die" or "100 Great Novels by Dead Authors", you have to check them out and see if you're at least well read enough to recognize most of the titles that have won their elusive claim to greatness.

So one day last summer while I was browsing The Book Shelter, this old copy of Rebecca (from the library of the Polk Correctional Institution, by the way) caught my eye and the little librarian inside my brain informed me that the BBC is laughing at me for never having read this novel. Why I suddenly cared what the BBC thinks of my reading choices, I can't say, but Rebecca promptly came home with me (along with at least five other books) and took up residence on my shelf. I didn't think much more about it until that agonizing time of year came along where I try to narrow down the never-ending LIFE LIST OF BOOKS I WANT TO READ BEFORE I DIE to a mere 20 or 30 to focus on in 2019. 

By this point, I had joined Instagram—Heaven help us—and I realized that the BBC wasn't the only one castigating me for ignoring du Maurier all my life. While this fact did move Rebecca up a few slots on THE LIST, she still didn't make the cut for my 2019 Book List. She did, however, find her way into my little mystery jar, and has been the one (and quite possibly only) lucky draw so far this year. So in May, I found myself sneaking into the dark world of Manderley and the de Winters. 

And I couldn't get into it.

Every time I sat down to read, I would struggle to get through a chapter. I'd find myself snoozing or wondering when we would ever get to the point. Admittedly, I started this novel at the worst possible time. I was wanting something fast-paced and summery to bust me out of my reading slump, not a dark, atmospheric, autumnal read best suited to be partaken of under a cozy blanket with a steaming cup of tea at hand. What's wrong with me? I wondered. Will they kick me out of #bookstagram for not loving Rebecca? Can I even tell anyone that I DON'T LIKE IT?!

Don't burn me at the stake yet. This story has a happy ending.

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier is told by a naïve young woman relating her struggle to live up to the mysterious Rebecca de Winter after becoming the second Mrs. Maxim de Winter. As her older, affluent husband takes her back to his famous estate, she finds herself lost in all the dark secrets swirling around Manderley and fighting her own imagination as she assumes that everyone, including her husband, are comparing her to Rebecca.  

For 250 pages, I was frustrated with our young narrator. Daphne du Maurier said that Rebecca is an exploration of the relationship between a man who is powerful with a woman who is not. And I think she did an excellent job with that. I wanted nothing to do with Maxim de Winter, and I felt many times that I'd like to club young Mrs. de Winter over the head and tell her to grow a spine. 

But then came the turn.

And I couldn't put the book down. Literally. I got to Chapter 19 and did nothing else until I finished it. I ignored dishes and laundry and food. I stayed up past midnight rereading certain parts of the beginning. I immediately added Jamaica Inn to my amazon wishlist (handily linked here in case you should ever get the urge to send me a book or seven). 

I get it.

The hype is real.

You really should read this book before you die.

"We would not talk of Manderley, I would not tell my dream. For Manderley was ours no longer. Manderley was no more."

What other books by Daphne du Maurier should I add to my wishlist?

Let's Bust a Recap : The Last Founding Father

What? The blog lives? Yes, yes, I'm still reading over here. I've just been putting off this recap forever because this is the worst presidential biography I've read to date. Harlow Giles Unger makes Lynne Cheney look like a cool, unbiased historian. And considering that I described her book on Madison as "a gushing, teen girl's fan letter to her adored celebrity crush" that should really tell you something. I mean, when you make the claim that Adams, Jefferson, and Madison were "mere caretaker presidents" in the opening pages of your biography, do you really expect anybody to take you seriously?? I all but put confidence in anything Unger had to say. ("All but" was his favorite little catch phrase and you could find those two annoying words put together on almost every page of the book.)

But I digress. I'll try to share some pertinent details and keep this short. Otherwise we'll end up with an overlong ranty post about who should be allowed to write biographies interjected with bitter diatribes about money-grabbing publishers who put this nonsense out into the world. 

The Last Founding Father: James Monroe and A Nation's Call to Greatness by Harlow Giles Unger was published in 2009 by Da Capo Press. As far as a biography goes, it was emotional, overly dramatic, and poorly written. 

Monroe himself would be an interesting character to read about, and he deserves to have a well written, up-to-date biography written of his life, but unfortunately, as far as I can tell, the two best options to read a full account of his life are this one or Harry Ammon's stale 1971 offering. So here we are. 

Monroe was involved in every aspect of Revolutionary America, serving as soldier, congressman, senator, minister to France and Britain, governor of Virginia, secretary of state, and secretary of war before finally becoming America's fifth president. A pretty impressive resumé in and of itself. He was instrumental in the acquisition of the Louisiana Purchase, and his Monroe Doctrine is an enduring proclamation that still has relevant political implications today. Personally, he was hot tempered and a bit vain which made him unlikeable for me as a human being. He and Kitty seemed to have a good marriage and their younger daughter Maria was the first president's child to be married in the White House. 

However, as I have already stated, this particular biography of Monroe is laughably biased. He had not one bad thing to say about Monroe and spent all his energy defending the objectively less than stellar bits of Monroe's life. After asserting that Adams, Jefferson, and Madison were "caretaker presidents" until Monroe could step up and save the day, he later contradicts his own words by arguing for Monroe's sole authorship of the Monroe Doctrine (some historians have posited that John Quincy Adams actually authored it) by stating that "such assertions show little insight into the presidency itself and the type of man who aspires to and assumes that office; indeed, they denigrate the character, the intellect, the intensity, and the sense of power that drive American presidents." All this after trying to convince the reader that Madison was a completely impotent puppet of Monroe's for Madison's entire presidency. 

If you're looking for a good biography of Monroe, this certainly isn't it. However, it may be your best bet. I would love it if Noah Feldman or Joseph J. Ellis would undertake to write a biography on our nation's fifth president. Until then, I suggest reading this biography with a very big grain of salt. 

I am actually facing (with great trepidation) another of Unger's biographies on John Quincy Adams. It is on my list for this year (and I already own it), but I am considering switching it out for James Traub's 2016 biography of the sixth president of the United States. What do you think? Should I ditch Unger and go with Traub or stick with what I've got?