strange and random happenstance

Frenchman's Creek by Daphne Du Maurier
Published by: Virago Press
Publication Date: 1941
Format: Paperback, 260 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Dona St. Columb has tired of court. What she did with Rockingham shames her. It wasn't an infidelity against her husband Harry, it was a stupid prank that scared an old lady. A prank that has made her rethink her life, fleeing with her two children to Cornwall and Navron. Perhaps reconnecting with nature and leaving the din of London behind will help her to find a new Dona, one she can like. She hasn't been back to her husband's estate of Navron since they were first married; aside from the painting of herself hanging in the master bedroom it is quite different. There's only one servant, the almost impudent but ultimately amusing William, who seems to have run the household according to his whims. Soon Dona starts to suspect William of having another master other than her husband. There are artifacts left in her room that hint at another occupant while she was roistering in London.

But that partying Dona is gone, replaced by one reveling in the trill of a bird call and the smell of a flower. Therefore the Cornish society trying to thrust themselves on her is very unwelcome. Lord Godolphin and his ilk whinging on about French pirates are of no interest to her. Especially when she has formed a bond with the very pirate they hunt. The Frenchman is William's true master and is the one who has been sleeping in Dona's bed while she was away. She stumbled upon his ship, La Mouette, hidden in a creek near Navron. She could have given them up, told the law the secret base of the pirates, instead she joins the crew. With William as her conspirator every moment she can spare is spent with the Frenchman. They fish, they talk, he draws birds and Dona. But soon he must take again to the high seas and Dona wants to accompany him. Will his latest heist bring the law down on him or will he and Dona sail off into the sunset?

Frenchman's Creek was one of a very few books by Daphne Du Maurier that was available stateside when I was growing up, and yet it never caught my interest. I think again it's down to the misapplied moniker of "Romance Author" that Du Maurier was forever burdened with. A problem that isn't just with Du Maurier's unwelcome title but with me. For years I've often dismissed a book because it was labelled a romance. At least by this time in my life I'm willing to not let a book's genre classification sway me. Yet of all Du Maurier's books I've read this is the most romantic, but it's romantic in a way similar to The Princess Bride. There's just so much more than the romance that to brand it as such does the book a disservice. Though, playing devil's advocate, in the Frenchman, Jean-Benoit Aubéry, Du Maurier has created perhaps the ideal romantic hero. He is a classic, a paragon of the romantic ideal. He has poetry in his soul and the desire to capture nature on paper. Who wouldn't want to run away with him?

Even if years ago I could have brought myself to look past the "romance" label of the book I think the period aspect of it would have tripped me up. Frenchman's Creek is set during The Restoration, a time in England where the return of the monarchy and Charles II to the throne spurred a cultural and artistic revolution; as well as a lot of debauchery and excess. I studied this in two different history classes in college, as well as reading a plethora of plays from this time period in my theatre classes, I did mention artistic revolution didn't I? This was heavily in the theatre arena. At this point I hadn't actually hit saturation, that was to come with Charles II: The Power and the Passion. I had REALLY been looking forward to this miniseries airing and at about hour three I was flagging... in fact at about three and a half hours I reached a point where my love of Rufus Sewell couldn't compete with my boredom. So this Restoration revulsion that took place in me made me avoid Frenchman's Creek for too long because it is so fresh and so entertaining that it goes beyond the period trappings to be a timeless tale.

If I were to describe this book to someone who had a slight grasp of Du Maurier's canon I'd say Frenchman's Creek is the opposite of Jamaica Inn. Jamaica Inn is all about a good girl thrown in amongst scoundrels who are evil and bad ship-wreckers, whereas Frenchman's Creek is about a bad girl thrown in amongst pirates who do a world of good for her and are really not that bad a group of fellows. The genius of Du Maurier is that she can write two completely opposite stories and yet make you fall completely in love with both of them. In Jamaica Inn you were praying for Mary to be saved by the kindly gentry, yet here, here the gentry are fools who are to be laughed at and mocked and you are with Dona all the way as she schemes to steal from them with her Frenchman. What's more is that if you think on Dona she's an interesting character. Over the course of the book she turns away from her husband and her children and yet you are rooting her on. You sympathize enough with her that you WANT her to become a pirate. You are complicit in her crimes and you love every dangerous heart-stopping moment. Leave the children behind, take to the high seas!

And it's that desire to leave your life behind that clues you into the deeper meaning of Frenchman's Creek. Just below the surface of all Du Maurier's books you always see her. Even if she didn't openly acknowledge it she used her books as therapy. In Rebecca she dealt with the duality of a wife, who she was meant to be versus who she really was. Here it's the masculine versus the feminine self. She always viewed her creative impulses as masculine, and therefore Dona constantly referring to her adventurous side as masculine, as a cabin boy, makes sense in relation to Du Maurier. This desire to go out into the world, to please yourself, to seek adventure, to do, was in Du Maurier's mind a male impulse. Whereas the homemaker, the mother, that was the feminine self. In the atrocious TV Movie Daphne, you get the barest glimpse into her acting on her male instincts with Gertrude Lawrence. But, like Dona in the end, Du Maurier chose hearth and home, going back to her family. She may have tapped into her male side from time to time, but it was the female side that won out. But more importantly, it's the way she has dramatized this and her other struggles that have left us with such an impressive body of work. Here's to the writer with issues!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Charles II, Cornwall, Daphne, Daphne Du Maurier, Dona St. Columb, Du Maurier December Deux, Frenchman's Creek, Jamaica Inn, Mary Yellan, Navron, Pirates, Rebecca, Restoration, Rufus Sewell, Therapy

Frenchman's Creek by Daphne Du Maurier
Published by: Virago Press
Publication Date: 1941
Format: Paperback, 260 Pages
Rating: ★★★★★
To Buy (different edition than one reviewed)

Dona St. Columb has tired of court. What she did with Rockingham shames her. It wasn't an infidelity against her husband Harry, it was a stupid prank that scared an old lady. A prank that has made her rethink her life, fleeing with her two children to Cornwall and Navron. Perhaps reconnecting with nature and leaving the din of London behind will help her to find a new Dona, one she can like. She hasn't been back to her husband's estate of Navron since they were first married; aside from the painting of herself hanging in the master bedroom it is quite different. There's only one servant, the almost impudent but ultimately amusing William, who seems to have run the household according to his whims. Soon Dona starts to suspect William of having another master other than her husband. There are artifacts left in her room that hint at another occupant while she was roistering in London.

But that partying Dona is gone, replaced by one reveling in the trill of a bird call and the smell of a flower. Therefore the Cornish society trying to thrust themselves on her is very unwelcome. Lord Godolphin and his ilk whinging on about French pirates are of no interest to her. Especially when she has formed a bond with the very pirate they hunt. The Frenchman is William's true master and is the one who has been sleeping in Dona's bed while she was away. She stumbled upon his ship, La Mouette, hidden in a creek near Navron. She could have given them up, told the law the secret base of the pirates, instead she joins the crew. With William as her conspirator every moment she can spare is spent with the Frenchman. They fish, they talk, he draws birds and Dona. But soon he must take again to the high seas and Dona wants to accompany him. Will his latest heist bring the law down on him or will he and Dona sail off into the sunset?

Frenchman's Creek was one of a very few books by Daphne Du Maurier that was available stateside when I was growing up, and yet it never caught my interest. I think again it's down to the misapplied moniker of "Romance Author" that Du Maurier was forever burdened with. A problem that isn't just with Du Maurier's unwelcome title but with me. For years I've often dismissed a book because it was labelled a romance. At least by this time in my life I'm willing to not let a book's genre classification sway me. Yet of all Du Maurier's books I've read this is the most romantic, but it's romantic in a way similar to The Princess Bride. There's just so much more than the romance that to brand it as such does the book a disservice. Though, playing devil's advocate, in the Frenchman, Jean-Benoit Aubéry, Du Maurier has created perhaps the ideal romantic hero. He is a classic, a paragon of the romantic ideal. He has poetry in his soul and the desire to capture nature on paper. Who wouldn't want to run away with him?

Even if years ago I could have brought myself to look past the "romance" label of the book I think the period aspect of it would have tripped me up. Frenchman's Creek is set during The Restoration, a time in England where the return of the monarchy and Charles II to the throne spurred a cultural and artistic revolution; as well as a lot of debauchery and excess. I studied this in two different history classes in college, as well as reading a plethora of plays from this time period in my theatre classes, I did mention artistic revolution didn't I? This was heavily in the theatre arena. At this point I hadn't actually hit saturation, that was to come with Charles II: The Power and the Passion. I had REALLY been looking forward to this miniseries airing and at about hour three I was flagging... in fact at about three and a half hours I reached a point where my love of Rufus Sewell couldn't compete with my boredom. So this Restoration revulsion that took place in me made me avoid Frenchman's Creek for too long because it is so fresh and so entertaining that it goes beyond the period trappings to be a timeless tale.

If I were to describe this book to someone who had a slight grasp of Du Maurier's canon I'd say Frenchman's Creek is the opposite of Jamaica Inn. Jamaica Inn is all about a good girl thrown in amongst scoundrels who are evil and bad ship-wreckers, whereas Frenchman's Creek is about a bad girl thrown in amongst pirates who do a world of good for her and are really not that bad a group of fellows. The genius of Du Maurier is that she can write two completely opposite stories and yet make you fall completely in love with both of them. In Jamaica Inn you were praying for Mary to be saved by the kindly gentry, yet here, here the gentry are fools who are to be laughed at and mocked and you are with Dona all the way as she schemes to steal from them with her Frenchman. What's more is that if you think on Dona she's an interesting character. Over the course of the book she turns away from her husband and her children and yet you are rooting her on. You sympathize enough with her that you WANT her to become a pirate. You are complicit in her crimes and you love every dangerous heart-stopping moment. Leave the children behind, take to the high seas!

And it's that desire to leave your life behind that clues you into the deeper meaning of Frenchman's Creek. Just below the surface of all Du Maurier's books you always see her. Even if she didn't openly acknowledge it she used her books as therapy. In Rebecca she dealt with the duality of a wife, who she was meant to be versus who she really was. Here it's the masculine versus the feminine self. She always viewed her creative impulses as masculine, and therefore Dona constantly referring to her adventurous side as masculine, as a cabin boy, makes sense in relation to Du Maurier. This desire to go out into the world, to please yourself, to seek adventure, to do, was in Du Maurier's mind a male impulse. Whereas the homemaker, the mother, that was the feminine self. In the atrocious TV Movie Daphne, you get the barest glimpse into her acting on her male instincts with Gertrude Lawrence. But, like Dona in the end, Du Maurier chose hearth and home, going back to her family. She may have tapped into her male side from time to time, but it was the female side that won out. But more importantly, it's the way she has dramatized this and her other struggles that have left us with such an impressive body of work. Here's to the writer with issues!

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Charles II, Cornwall, Daphne, Daphne Du Maurier, Dona St. Columb, Du Maurier December Deux, Frenchman's Creek, Jamaica Inn, Mary Yellan, Navron, Pirates, Rebecca, Restoration, Rufus Sewell, Therapy

Daphne
Starring: Geraldine Somerville, Andrew Havill, Christopher Malcolm, Elizabeth McGovern, Nicholas Murchie, Malcolm Sinclair, and Janet McTeer
Release Date: May 12th, 2007
Rating: ★
To Buy

There was a time when two women were Daphne Du Maurier's life entire. Ellen Doubleday was the wife of Daphne's American Publisher, Nelson Doubleday, and Gertrude Lawrence was an actress with whom Daphne sated her unrequited love of Ellen. The news of the death of Gertrude leads to Daphne baring her soul in writing to Ellen, because Ellen was the beginning. They met on a transatlantic crossing. Daphne was coming to America to stay with the Doubledays to defend herself in court against accusations of plagiarism stemming from her most famous book, Rebecca. Ellen wafted into her cabin with her arms laden with presents and from that moment on the trial was nothing but a nuisance to Daphne who liked to do nothing better than bask in the presence of Ellen. Ellen is aware of Daphne's growing infatuation and confides to her that she doesn't judge her, she just can't love her in the way she desires. Daphne returns to England and does what she does best, control her emotions in her work. She writes a play, September Tide, wherein the character of the mother-in-law is Ellen and Daphne's avatar is the son-in-law. In a twist of fate the mother-in-law is played by Gertrude Lawrence, whom Daphne met at a party of Ellen's. Soon Gertrude and Daphne begin an affair, much as Gertrude and Daphne's father Gerald did years earlier. Yet Gertrude isn't Ellen and Ellen will forever be between them.

When I first read Rebecca I knew that it would forever be one of my favorite books. So much so that I actually stole my mom's copy from her collection of Franklin Mysteries despite being only about thirteen and not getting the full impact of the book. One of the first things I remember reading when looking into the life of the author of this classic was that this female writer shared a lover with her father. Right there I knew there was a story that needed telling. It might be a weird story, it might be a disturbing story, but the more I read about Daphne's relationship with her father, the famous actor Gerald Du Maurier, the more I needed to know. And I needed to know this from someone who wasn't Daphne. Daphne had a habit of censoring herself. Just read her autobiography, Myself When Young, and you'll see what I'm saying. She just tells her story in a very flat and conventional way. Her life could have been the life of any of her contemporaries. There was no plumbing of her depths, no hints of what she was so artfully and carefully concealing. Therefore when I first read about Daphne in some catalog I got in the mail I was excited to see that there was a film out there finally dealing with the complexity of Daphne Du Maurier. Her sexuality, her relationships, everything she tried to keep hidden. I wanted in. I wanted to know her better.

Perhaps I had too many expectations of a short movie made for television. Because all I got was surface. There was no complexity. If anything Daphne conflates and condenses until there's almost no story to tell. I can't help but think of the adaptations of Sarah Waters's work, who is herself a big fan of Du Maurier, there risks were taken, here... here is a movie that won't offend the sensibilities of the after church crowd gathering around to watch PBS. Because nothing is explained, nothing really happens. Daphne is a confusing mess of repressed emotions and stilted acting. It felt of another time. As in it felt like a movie made post Hayes Code, but only just. The film stock and direction made Daphne look and feel like a BBC adaptation from the early 70s. But not a good one like Upstairs, Downstairs, one of those ones you saw once and never wanted to see again and have since expunged from your memory. In fact I would go so far as to say that this isn't so much acted as a "historical dramatization" akin to the historical reenactments on the History Channel that are interposed between interviews with scholars. Only those are better acted.

In fact, if Daphne had gone all American Horror Story: Roanoke on us perhaps this would have worked. There is just SO MUCH that is glossed over and omitted, and this coming from someone who has only a passing knowledge, that this movie NEEDED those scholars interjecting and explaining what is happening in Daphne's life and mindset in order to grasp what is going on. Someone who is not at all familiar with Du Maurier would be totally at sea. For example the plagiarism lawsuit was just brushed aside for long awkward glances at Ellen Doubleday. Whereas the countless claims and sole lawsuit against Du Maurier for plagiarizing Rebecca could have alone made an interesting movie, instead of a few quick snapshots that brought her into the orbit of Ellen. Sure a successful book will bring the kooks out of the woodwork, but there is a possibility that Rebecca wasn't all Du Maurier's making... see, I'm already hooked right there, now I want that movie as well! But this movie was never about clarity. Daphne's complex relationship to her father is basically reduced to a not very witty line delivered by Noel Coward.

This here is the fatal flaw. Here is a movie about Daphne Du Maurier that never once goes into the depths of her psyche. Never once goes into the whole creepy control her father tried to exert over her with his countless laments that he wished Daphne had been a boy or the whole THEY SHARED A LOVER. Here she's portrayed as butch, the word "lesbian" literally shan't be uttered, if there has to be a mention of her proclivities, just call it "Venetian" as the unexplained ergot of her family demands. This simplification discounts so much of how Du Maurier viewed herself. Most likely due to the roles her father made her fit she isn't able to be simply called bisexual. She quite literally had a split within her, I'm not saying a split personality, but it could almost be called such. She viewed her creative drive as masculine and home life as feminine. Her creative drive was tied into her passion and therefore her romances with both Ellen and Geraldine, why else does she keep referring to herself as a young boy? And yes, that is never explained within Daphne. These issues needed to be handled with care and insight, not just dressing her up in plus fours and having her walk around the countryside!

This movie was such a missed opportunity that it just, ugh. I just don't want to think about what it could have been. But the true horror is that this movie was brilliantly cast. I mean seriously, you have some of the TOP actresses in British Drama and the directing and writing reduced them to this? Cora Crawley! That doyenne of Downton! Lily Potter! Harry Potter's freakin' mother reduced to this! But what really drives me batty is Janet McTeer. I've always admired her, from bumping people off on Marple to getting the sorcery going in The White Queen to taking on that most famous of mothers, Mrs. Dashwood, she's always been good. But this past February I got to see a broadcast of the National Theatre's live production of Les Liaisons Dangereuses which she stared in with Dominic West and holy shit people, if she doesn't win every award available to her for this it is a crime against humanity. The depth, the complexity, the humanity. I was moved more by that production and her acting than anything else in recent years. To know that this movie had access to that talent and then didn't utilize it? It is yet another crime against humanity.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Daphne, Daphne Du Maurier, Downton Abbey, Du Maurier December Deux, Elizabeth McGovern, Gerald Du Maurier, Geraldine Somerville, Janet McTeer, Les Liaisons Dangereuses, Lesbian, Rebecca, The White Queen