Sunday, 22 March 2015

rebecca in richmond

Oh, Rebecca. I've been meaning to read you for years. A glamorous woman is mysteriously murdered on a Cornish estate in the 1920s (or 30s or 40s - nobody actually knows). So me. So when my friend Tobi told me that he had tickets for a theatre adaptation of Daphne du Maurier's best-loved novel at the Richmond Theatre, I was there like a shot. The play was excellent - disturbing, funny, totally gripping. I particularly loved the set, which featured the wreck of Rebecca's sunken boat at its centre, a crystal chandelier swinging above. Director Emma Rice’s adaptation made excellent use of live music throughout the performance - violins and fiddles and gloomy sea shanties sung by fishermen in dark raincoats. Yes, I loved it. And now it's time to track down the paperback...

Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again... I came upon it suddenly; the approach masked by the unnatural growth of a vast shrub that spread in all directions... There was Manderley, our Manderley, secretive and silent as it had always been, the gray stone shining in the moonlight of my dream, the mullioned windows reflecting the green lawns and terrace. Time could not wreck the perfect symmetry of those walls, nor the site itself, a jewel in the hollow of a hand.

1 comment:

  1. One can believe the approach you outline here, could be promising, and as a lover of Hitchcock's film treatment of the story - for him, a study in extreme insecurity under widely diversified oppressions of the nameless heroine - I would love to experience the effects of the means discussed here, including "sea music" so identified with the British stage since "Peter Grimes." If the script is available, you make it a must-read. If there is a black English Cocker Spaniel (cf., "Jasper") you make it worth the voyage.