obsession

It always starts with "Rebecca." The book that is so good you don't want to share it with anyone. It never leaves you. It possesses you. It possesses me, and now so does its author. I'm not sure I could accurately explain how my obsession with Daphne du Maurier has come about, only that I'm basically in love with her. Or maybe I just wish I could have been her in another life. Alas, I can only hang onto the thought that I was born about eight years before she died -- so we shared some meaningless time on Earth together. Twenty years later, the dormant presence has come back to life.

The obsession began when I declared "Rebecca" my favorite book. But I wasn't convinced the author could interest me further until I learned of her association with Alfred Hitchcock. I let the thought marinate all through "Jamaica Inn," but the fever hadn't quite peaked. The day I bought the story collection "Don't Look Now," I knew I was in for something, and it took me to about page 3 to figure out that du Maurier would soon dominate me. With each page she owned me more and more, and by the time I'd finished "Monte Verita," I knew I had to get my hands on every piece of this woman's work.

I bought a decrepit copy of "Rule Britannia" at a used bookstore (surprisingly not The Strand) and added a heap of fiction and biographies to my Amazon wish list. I repeatedly fondled a copy of "The Daphne du Maurier Companion" at my nearest Barnes & Noble, but opted not to drop the $18 in favor of my favorite contemporary author, A.M. Homes, when a coupon begged redemption. But The Strand did beckon, and I swooped in on the D shelf and snagged a handful of relics as a Christmas present to myself. Those plus a couple more I got for Christmas, and my current collection is as follows:

Rebecca
Jamaica Inn
Rule Britannia
Don't Look Now
Myself When Young - The Shaping of a Writer
Mary Anne
My Cousin Rachel
The du Mauriers
The Young George du Maurier
The Rebecca Notebook and Other Memories
The Daphne du Maurier Companion
Daphne du Maurier by Margaret Forster
Daphne du Maurier: A Daughter's Memoir by Flavia Leng

It's a short list compared to what I'll continue to compile over the years, and doesn't even include other things I'm buying as companions to the collection, such as works by her grandfather and sister, and others that inspired her in some way (I've already invested in "Tales from Shakespeare" by Charles Lamb and "Stories" by Katherine Mansfield). I've also now seen the Hitchcock "Rebecca," as well as "Daphne" and its accompanying "Vanishing Cornwall."

It's time I admit it: I'm a total geek. But why not? It's about time I had something to collect other than random books I "might" like. Besides, it's a match made in heaven -- there's the sea, there's writing, there's reclusive nature, a desire to wear pants rather than dresses ... there's Cornwall (can I mention that's where Tori Amos lives? Rereading my mention of the Tori song in an earlier post has total new meaning. It wasn't just a coincidence!).

There are so many details I'd love to go into, but I'm just a du Maurier baby-fan. I can dream of being an authority, writing research papers for no one but myself to read, attending the festivals, acquiring that rare, signed first edition (I already made one purchase from The Strand's Rare Book Room -- so it was only $15 and unsigned, it's still cool as hell). I want to dig, I want to know, but it's barely the honeymoon stage and I'm already the jealous boyfriend. I'll read the professional criticisms but shield my eyes from Goodreads or Amazon "comments" on the lady. What could they know?! They don't love her like I do! It's mine and you can't have it. More to come.