strange and random happenstance

For about six years in the late eighties and early nineties everyone seemed to fall under the mass delusion that Patsy Kensit could act. She was everywhere. I don't know if it's because of her music career with Eighth Wonder or the, to me, completely baffling successful of Absolute Beginners, but she was the "it girl" of the moment. As an aside, if a movie stars David Bowie and I buy it for a dollar at Half Price Books yet am never able to bring myself to finish watching it, that is the definition of a bad movie. In fact Robert Altman takes the piss out of it in the first few minutes of The Player. Now that is a movie worth watching. As for Adam Bede, the only reason I have this on DVD is because it was included in The George Eliot Collection and it was cheaper to buy the whole set than to buy Middlemarch separately, and I needed my Rufus Sewell. I know you know what I'm talking about. When I got the set ironically the first adaptation I watched was Adam Bede because I was in the mood for some Iain Glen. This was long before Game of Thrones and therefore the reason I was mildly obsessed with him was because of Wives and Daughters. You know I really think Mr. Preston and Cynthia could have made a go of it. But that wasn't to be. And ironically Adam Bede is just another Iain Glen doesn't get the girl story. And yes, it's a recurring theme. The only lasting impression I have of that first viewing is thinking how depressing it was. I also remember that I had some disappointment that Patsy Kensit survived. I mean, if she's going to darken my door the least she could do is slump over and expire on the stoop. What annoys me most about her casting is this is peak early nineties casting, Iain Glenn, James Wilby, Susannah Harker, and Alan Cox! Think how good this could have been without her? Especially when the supporting roles are played by Jean Marsh, Julia McKenzie, Freddie Jones, Patsy Byrne, and George Innes. Oh, and George Innes, he is fabulous. Most known for his roles in The Italian Job and Upstairs, Downstairs, he has only one scene where he's in the witness box and he describes the dead child Patsy Kensit's character has left under a bush, and it's just heartbreaking. Even if she wasn't guilty as sin, for being Patsy Kensit AND for abandoning the child James Wilby got her with, I would have convicted her just due to the testimony against her. To have one actor outshine everyone made you realize how pedestrian this adaptation is. It's nothing more than a girl being seduced by the lord of the manor and getting with child, thus destroying the good village boy who truly loved her. AKA Iain Glenn not getting the girl. Again. So therefore I maybe shouldn't lay all the blame on Patsy Kensit? I mean, her casting technically just adds to the peak early nineties vibe... And it's not like this rather pedestrian story could have been improved. At the end of the day her character was transported to Australia and the much nicer girl played by Susannah Harker got the boy. So, win win in the end? Or maybe it was a Pyrrhic victory?

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Absolute Beginners, Adam Bede, Alan Cox, David Bowie, DVD, Fifty-Five Years a Masterpiece, George Eliot, George Innes, Iain Glen, James Wilby, Middlemarch, Nineties, Patsy Kensit, Rufus Sewell, Susannah Harker, Wives and Daughters

If you are watching this for Jeremy Brett, be forewarned that there is a lot less Jeremy Brett than the DVD cover would have you believe. This is a starring vehicle for Susan Fleetwood and Robin "OG Poldark" Ellis doing his best Morgan Freeman narration in the era before Morgan Freeman started being known as the go-to narrator and was known as that guy from The Electric Company and various soap operas. The Good Soldier is a tale of infidelity set against the backdrop of a German spa town revolving around two couples, the Dowells and the Ashburnhams. This adaptation leans heavily on the 1974 adaptation of The Great Gatsby with a dash of Brideshead Revisited, ironic because The Good Soldier predates both and more than likely influenced both. It's slowly paced, but a wonderful study of lives falling apart and what we are willing to endure for those we love. Told non-linearly we get glimpses of happy days and the disaster that is to come. Hint, it's a lot of suicide. What I particularly liked is that this felt a bit like it was cracking open the facade of the stiff upper lips of the Brits. Underneath it all they are just a complete mess of repressed and pent-up emotions that will eventually explode, usually in a darkly comic manner. That's the key here, you have to be willing to embrace Ford Madox Ford's dark humor. The Good Soldier began life as The Saddest Story but the publishers wanted a new title because of World War I and Ford Madox Ford sarcastically suggested The Good Soldier, because Brett's character is anything but a good little soldier, and the publishers jumped at the new title. Now you might be wondering, how can infidelity and suicide be darkly humorous? Well, it's all in the execution. The pauses, the timing, and the reasoning. Oh, and the dramatic wailing and gnashing of handkerchief's in hands. In fact the only memorable part of the 2012 Benedict Cumberbatch adaptation of Ford Madox Ford's Parade's End was Reverend Duchemin's suicide, brilliantly brought to the small screen by Rufus Sewell. So if dark humor and distinctly British entropy is your cup of tea then be sure to check out this production from the early eighties.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Brideshead Revisited, Fifty Years a Masterpiece, Ford Maddox Ford, Infidelity, Jeremy Brett, Morgan Freeman, Parade's End, Poldark, Robin Ellis, Rufus Sewell, Susan Fleetwood, The Good Soldier, The Great Gatsby

While Masterpeice Theatre has been around all my life the real moment I became a British miniseries addict was in 1996 when I first saw Pride and Prejudice starring Colin Firth. This was the point of no return. And I was canny enough to lay a lot of the credit at the feet of Andrew Davies. The more I saw of his adaptations the more I realized how good he was at his job. I don't care for all these revisionists out there, Andrew Davies was and is the king of adaptions. Period. In my attempt to watch everything he'd ever adapted I stumbled into George Eliot's Middlemarch. What struck me most was this adaptation was made only a year before Pride and Prejudice and at that time it was apparent that Andrew Davies was attempting to make a different Firth a star, Colin's younger brother Jonathan. Jonathan is a very talented actor but he has never attained the stardom his brother has. Whether this is just coincidence or lack of drive I don't know. But I first saw him in Covington Cross, a show notable stateside for the fact Glenn Quinn quite Roseanne to be on it. Jonathan also played a right asshole in the first season of The Inspector Lynley Mysteries as well as the ghost of a circus performer I believe on an episode of Ghost Whisperer. As I've said, an odd career. But with Middlemarch there's a scene where he's playing pool that gave me a chilling sense of deja vu. Because the same scene is in Pride and Prejudice! Literally the only difference is they swapped Firths and the felt covering on the pool table is a different cover. It's like Davies KNEW this scene had to work with a Firth brother and the first time didn't take so he tried it again and sunk it perfectly in the corner pocket. While these Firthian observations are all well and good the more pressing draw to me now is my love of Rufus Sewell. Oh my Lord M who is the only highlight of Parade's End. I first saw you in Cold Comfort Farm, then was amazed by your performance of Fortinbras in Hamlet, you only blinked six times the entire time you were on screen! But you stole my heart as Will Ladislaw, just as you did Dorthea's! Who needs financial security when you have love?      

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Adaptation, Andrew Davies, Cold Comfort Farm, Colin Firth, Fifty Years a Masterpiece, George Eliot, Glenn Quinn, Jonathan Firth, Lord M, Masterpiece Theatre, Middlemarch, Pride and Prejudice, Rufus Sewell

If there's one thing that is certain in this life it's that we viewers love a good glimpse into royal life. And seeing as until recently Queen Victoria was the longest reigning monarch it makes sense that she's the one most often brought to the screen, especially in cameos in any film set during the Victorian era. In fact many of my favorite actresses, and a handful of actors, have portrayed Victoria in their time, Annette Crosbie, Miriam Margolyes, Anna Massey, Victoria Hamilton, Prunella Scales, Pauline Collins, Pam Ferris, Gayle Rankin, Imelda Staunton, Kathy Bates, and Gemma Jones are a few of my favorites, though a tip of the hat to certain members of Monty Python's Flying Circus is also due. You might notice I omitted Emily Blunt and The Young Victoria. I know it feels sacrilegious to say I don't like something written by Julian Fellowes, but the movie just felt like a subpar version of the Victoria and Albert miniseries staring Victoria Hamilton and the lesser Firth. Needles to say this meant I was very excited when I heard about the new Victoria series staring Jenna Coleman. She's a talented actress and they just destroyed her character on Doctor Who and I felt that this would be her redemption. Also the show just happened to be created by an author whose work I really like, Daisy Goodwin! Seriously, do yourself a favor and check out The American Heiress! In interviews prior to the show's release she talked about reading Victoria's diaries and really realizing what it would mean to elevate a teenager to absolute ruler. It's actually rather intimidating and scary giving someone that young that much power, but luckily there are advisors... in other words, there is Lord Melbourne. Lord M as portrayed by Rufus Sewell captured the hearts of everyone. Historical accuracy be damned! Lord M and Victoria forever! Who is this Albert person anyway? In fact that ravenous cult of Lord M and our lingering love for him makes every other series of this show pale in comparison. Season one had Lord M and Rufus, therefore season one is the best. Period.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Daisy Goodwin, Doctor Who, Fifty Years a Masterpiece, Jenna Coleman, Julian Fellowes, Lord M, Monty Python, Rufus Sewell, Teenager, The American Heiress, The Young Victoria, Victoria, Victorian, Victorian Hamilton

The Man in the High Castle was at one time my favorite series out there. The perfect expansion of the book by Philip K. Dick into a true visual masterpiece. I'm not sure where it fell apart though, but aside from a stellar The Twilight Zone parody this season with Stephen Root as Hawthorne Abendsen, AKA the actual Man in the High Castle, this show felt completely disconnected from previous seasons and laboring on some fantastical notion that the death of John Smith would fix everything. My brother would argue that the production team was so convinced of a season five pickup they were busy plotting towards an epic conclusion that they didn't see the writing on the wall and instead we are left with what we are left with. Yet I don't buy into this theory because even if we were to get more I didn't want that more anymore, if you get my drift. My main problem was that the relationship between Julia Crain and Tagomi was the heart and soul of this show and to not have Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa on AT ALL this season made no sense. To add insult to injury they kill him off in a ham-handed scene with a body double. Tagomi didn't deserve this fate and neither did we! Also where was Ed? Can someone, anyone answer that question? Also don't even get me started on deciding to finally, and belatedly, add more African American characters with the Black Communist Rebellion and not being able to find a balance between the old and the new characters. So in other words, just watch the sensational first three seasons and know that season four is unwatchable. Sometimes it just frustrates me how a show can just destroy itself by losing it's vision.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: And the Emmy Goes To, Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, Hawthorne Abendsen, John Smith, Julia Crain, Philip K. Dick, Rufus Sewell, Stephen Root, Tagomi, The Man in the High Castle, The Twilight Zone

When it comes to Agatha Christie adaptations I find they are very hit or miss, especially since the BBC took over the rights back in 2014. There are a few adaptations that I haven't even been able to finish, I'm looking at you Partners in Crime. So it was with trepidation that I went into watching The Pale Horse, mainly because it was adapted by Sarah Phelps, a writer who views herself above the source material. After her stellar adaptation of And Then There Were None she decided to go her own way and force us to watch Toby Jones have sex in The Witness for the Prosecution, made Ordeal by Innocence about cold war fears, turned Poirot priest in The ABC Murders, and now made this very unremarkable adaptation of The Pale Horse that doesn't have anything going for it except a stellar cast left to do nothing. This adaptation tries to lean into the mood versus the meaning, and occasionally it succeeds. There's a very nice Midsommar vibe that could have been worked but instead was almost forgotten. The supernatural element could have been a corker, but again, barely touched on. In fact, of all Sarah Phelps's adaptations this is her biggest fail because it didn't even incite anger in me for some memorable WTF moment, instead it was completely forgettable. I kept wondering while watching it that perhaps it was constrained by the two one hour parts and if it was three parts like most of the other BBC adaptations it might have thrived. But then I realized, I did not want to watch three hours of whatever this was trying to be.

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Adaptation, Agatha Christie, And the Emmy Goes To, And The There Were None, BBC, Midsommar, Ordeal by Innocence, Partners in Crime, Rufus Sewell, The ABC Murders, The Pale Horse, Witness for the Prosecution

The Man in the High Castle Season 1
Based on the book by Philip K. Dick
Starring: Alexa Davalos, Conor Leslie, Macall Gordon, Daniel Roebuck, Rupert Evans, DJ Qualls, Michael Gaston, Christine Chatelain, Callum Seagram Airlie, Carmen Mikkelsen, Darren Dolynski, Brennan Brown, Joel de la Fuente, Lee Shorten, Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, Arnold Chun, Carsten Norgaard, Hiro Kanagawa, Mayumi Yoshida, Daisuke Tsuji, Amy Okuda, Luke Kleintank, Rufus Sewell, Chelah Horsdal, Quinn Lord, Gracyn Shinyei, Genea Charpentier, Ray Proscia, Wolf Muser, Rick Worthy, and Camille Sullivan
Release Date: November 20th, 2015
Rating: ★★★★★
To Watch

Juliana Crain's sister has gotten herself into trouble and it will change the whole course of Juliana's life. She sees Trudy shot by the Kenpeitai in the street. Reeling from this shock she stumbles home and notices that she's holding a film reel that Trudy handed her. She can't believe what the film shows. A world where the Allied forces won WWII. A world where San Francisco isn't occupied by the Japanese and the Reich doesn't control the East Coast. When her boyfriend Frank comes home he urges Juliana to go to the police. Tell the Kenpeitai everything to clear her name of treason. Instead Juliana decides to deliver the film to the neutral zone in Trudy's place. She leaves for Canon City Colorado and doesn't look back. In her absence Frank is implicated in Trudy's crimes. The fact that his grandfather was Jewish means that he and his family have no standing. Before the misunderstanding is cleared up Frank will lose those closest to him all while covering for the woman he loves, a woman who is currently at sea. She has no idea who her contact is or who she is supposed to give the film to. There's a young man from New York, Joe, who she's not sure if she can trust. Yet his help saves her life and she learns that he too is part of the resistance. He too knows of the films and that they are to be delivered to "The Man in the High Castle."

Only Joe isn't really a member of the resistance. He has infiltrated the resistance on the orders of his leader, Obergruppenführer John Smith. Joe is a Nazis. Only his mission in Canon City didn't go to plan because of the arrival of Juliana Crain. Therefore he needs to prove his loyalty to the Reich. Seeing as Juliana Crain went home to San Francisco, it makes sense that Joe will follow her there, uncover all her contacts and discover the new film that has appeared. Only Julia has changed drastically since her experiences. She doesn't want to make all the deaths of those she loved be in vain and she has taken a job as a hostess for the Trade Minister of the Pacific States, Nobusuke Tagomi. Little does she know that this man whom the resistance views as the enemy might have very similar goals to her. He's been working with a high ranking Nazi to undermine the Reich to give Japan parity to Germany. Because another World War is looming. One where there can be only one victor. The films showing a different world might just hold the key to the truth of what is really going on, but will it all be in vain? Is war inevitable?

The difference between a good adaptation and a bad adaptation is that at the end you can't believe it was ten hours long. As you gobbled the episodes up they just flew by. Whereas a bad adaptation, it feels like work to watch each excruciating episode and ten hours can feel like a lifetime. Yes, I'm looking at you The Handmaid's Tale! The Man in the High Castle was the exact opposite in almost every way to that atrocious Atwood adaptation. Constantly compelling, faithful when needed, expansive when called on, always building on the writing of Philip K. Dick while making sure to create a show that was bingeworthy. But that's what happens when your show is created by someone who had astronomical success with The X-Files, AKA Frank Spotnitz, versus someone who's more known for kitschy Canadian shows, though I will say here to Bruce Miller, LOVE Men in Trees! Also The X-Files had a sustained look and feel, and that really can't be said for any of Bruce Miller's many shows. The noir feel that imbues ever scene of The Man in the High Castle is just perfect. While there is spycraft I'd liken it more to the Cold War than WWII which makes sense being set in 1962. But it's just such a fully visualized representation of this alternate world that it's staggering how complete it is from the advertising to the clothing. I just want more and more and more of it!

What I found interesting in translating this book to the screen is that the Japanese are depicted far more bleakly perhaps even verging on evil. The book is so concerned with the Nazi threat, as was Philip K. Dick himself, that comparatively the Japanese are depicted benignly. His personal bias came through in his writing. Therefore I don't know if this was some way to level the playing field and show that both surviving Axis powers were equally evil or to just create more strife in the lives of our protagonists who predominately live under Japanese rule. Because a clearer statement of the evil of the Japanese couldn't be made than having the Kenpeitai accidentally kill Frank's sister and her two children. Nothing that horrific happens in the book, that's for sure. But it serves a purpose in that it makes Frank invested in the resistance. Juliana's sister's death and Frank's sister's death unite them in their desire to overthrow the world they have come to accept. But what's more by showing the Japanese as evil and then going further into their characters, learning more about Tagomi, seeing how the head of the Kenpeitai bristles under what he has to do, all this gives us a deeper, layered, nuanced show, where the villains aren't necessarily so because of their acts but because they have been forced into these roles over time.

Though what this adaptation did superbly was expand Philip K. Dick's world so that we weren't just seeing the American and Japanese side of things but it also ensconsced us firmly within the Reich and in particular the Reich in America. Yes, this is literally going to be all about the importance of Rufus Sewell. I should say Rufus Sewell as Obergruppenführer John Smith, but seriously, wherever Rufus goes I follow. Season two of Victoria just wasn't the same without him in every single episode. Oh Lord M, you're breaking my heart. THIS is the genius of casting Rufus! Most people have some sort of connection to him as an actor, I mean he's seriously amazing. By casting him as a dyed-in-the-wool Nazi you know he's the bad guy and you aren't rooting for him, because seriously, you NEVER root for Nazis, instead you are drawn into the mindset of the Reich. You get a glimpse into how calculating and cruel their world is where old friends can become enemies that you are to interrogate over a family dinner and your own child's life hangs in the balance because of a hereditary illness. You see the Nazis in all their evil and you understand that evil. To understand your enemy is the first step in destroying them.

One major change that makes total sense in the shift of mediums is that instead of The Grasshopper Lies Heavy being a book within the book it's a series of films that look like newsreels that where shown in cinemas during and right after WWII. In the book it made sense for this alternate outcome of WWII to be disseminated as a book, but for a TV show it makes sense for it to be a film. Like to like in the different media. Because think how boring it would be watching people read long sections out of the book on screen? It's been proven that people have only about a 15-20 minute attention span when being read to, so firstly, everyone would have tuned out, and secondly? Snoozeville. Whereas think how much information can be gleaned in a short film and watching the characters reactions to that film? What's more it's far more visceral for the viewers to see images, many of which the are familiar with. The films, for the most part, show the world that we are familiar with. What's more in the book The Grasshopper Lies Heavy is being read by everyone everywhere in the Japanese territories, whereas having films that have to be secreted around the country, films that even Hitler wants to watch? This just adds to the noir spycraft of the series.

Yet one thing that hasn't been explained yet, though it might in season two, is where the films come from and why The Man in the High Castle wants them. Obviously they are interesting, even Hitler is obsessed with them, but there's a bigger secret here. In the book The Man in the High Castle is the one disseminating the information, yet in this adaptation he's collecting it. Why!?! One theory I have is that perhaps he's collecting the films to eventually write the book in order to achieve the outcome in the book, which is informing the masses through the publication of The Grasshopper Lies Heavy. But then where are the films coming from? Are they slipping through rips in time and space like Tagomi in that cliffhanger seeing him in OUR 1962 San Francisco? Are they actually showing the truth and that everyone is under some kind of mass hypnosis? I have other theories but I don't want to start spoiling everything. Whatever the reason for this reversal it has kept me guessing and to take a book that I've read and loved and make it new and fresh? Well that's truly amazing in my mind. I literally can not wait to start season two (right now!) but I'm also worried that once I binge it what will happen to me while I wait for season three? Seriously, what will happen!?! 

Posted by Miss Eliza at 12:00 AM 0 comments  

Labels: Adaptation, Alternate History, Dystopian, Dystopian Drama, Japan, Nazis, Philip K. Dick, Rufus Sewell, San Francisco, The Grasshopper Lies Heavy, The Handmaid's Tale, The Man in the High Castle, The X-Files, WWII

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