Class and social mobility in Daphne du Maurier’s novels

By Ellie Jackson

Here is the last of the guest blogs from Sheffield Hallam student, Ellie Jackson, about the novels of Daphne du Maurier. This is part of Ellie’s final year project. Here she sets out her thoughts on the issue of class.

I will be discussing Daphne du Maurier’s most famous novels; Rebecca (1938), Jamaica Inn (1935), and My Cousin Rachel (1951). The female protagonist in all of these novels are victims of the class division, but particularly in Rebecca.

Mrs de Winter’s decision to marry a man above her own class challenges the rules for social mobility, but it is important to consider whether this was Du Maurier’s intention. Not only does her decision challenge the rules for mobility, but also the expectations of a woman’s role in marriage, and whether the woman should choose herself or conform to those expectations. We quickly realise that the narrator’s decision to marry was not actually her decision at all. Maxim gives her the choice: ‘Either you go to America with Mrs. Van Hopper or you come home to Manderley with me.’ (du Maurier, 1938, 6). This suggests that a woman of her status cannot have the privilege of choice. It’s a matter of which upper class individual to be dependent upon.

Mrs de Winter is aware of the class division in her marriage, and of her lack of confidence and awkwardness. but eventually realises her ‘intense desire to please’ (du Maurier, 1938, 16), especially when it comes to Mrs Danvers, the late Rebecca’s maid. Mrs Danvers is a constant reminder of Rebecca’s presence in Manderley, retelling stories of her perfectly proper mistress and insulted by her replacement. We do not even learn the name of our protagonist throughout the entire novel – only the powerful Mr de Winter and his well-bred, upper class wife Rebecca, whom he could not control, unlike the second Mrs de Winter. Even before our narrator is betrothed to Maxim, her social status is reinforced through her paid companionship to the obnoxious Mrs Van Hopper. The narrator is very aware of her social class and what others think of her when travelling with Mrs Van Hopper. She wishes that she were ‘a woman of about thirty-six dressed in black satin with a string of pearls’ (du Maurier, 1938, 5). She makes her wish to be someone else early on in the novel, which foreshadows the identity she will replace – Rebecca – when she arrives at Manderley, something she will regret ever wishing for.

Similarly, in My Cousin Rachel, du Maurier demonstrates the class difference between Rachel and Philip, her nephew by marriage. He is completely perplexed by Rachel’s desire to make her own way in the world without the financial stability of a husband, and suggests that he would prefer to pay her for doing nothing. Rachel’s independence ultimately proves to be a threat to the social class she now belongs to, after her marriage to Ambrose. Throughout the novel, there is the uncertain question of whether Rachel is genuine, or if she murdered Ambrose in order to inherit his wealth and estate, to send money out of the country and leave the family in debt. Rachel becomes a villain as she is accused of poisoning Philip suddenly after he gives up his inheritance for her. Is she, however, presented this way for other reasons? Is the thought of a woman with a new upper-class status, being independent with her finances and refusing to marry, so hard to believe that she must be a villain? Rachel is a defiant character. She is difficult to relate to as a woman who has moved through the classes and has a strong, powerful influence on a man. With Philip’s inability to accept Rachel defying convention, he allows himself to be complicit in her death.

Du Maurier ultimately suggests the determination of society to eradicate those who pose a threat to societal norms – especially those who aim for a higher social class. Mary Yellen in Jamaica Inn is another of du Maurier’s female characters who defy the societal norms of women being completely dependent on a man, as she is happy to continue her free, quiet life on the farm following the death of her mother. However, this independence is not unusual for a woman of Mary’s lower class and the main class difference that we see in Jamaica Inn is the type of work her uncle Joss undertakes. Joss is not an upper class man with a good economic situation, and so his dangerous smuggling operation contrasts the comfortable lives of the men in the other novels (despite their often endangering the lives of the women they know). The characters in Jamaica Inn are much lower in the social order than those in Rebecca and My Cousin Rachel, and therefore have less security and may have to take risks. The dark, depressing and abysmal dwelling in which Jamaica Inn is set, confirms the impact of the lower social class in terms of the lacking opportunities and freedom. The smuggling operation is not only a symbol of a lower social class and the pressure to have money in their pockets, but their lack of freedom to live regular lives.

Mrs de Winter (Joan Fontaine) and Mrs Danvers (Judith Anderson) from Alfred Hitchcock’s Rebecca (1940) (Creative Commons licence)
Francis Davey (Ben Daniels) and Mary Yellan (Jessica Brown Findlay) in the 2014 adaptation of Jamaica Inn (Creative Commons licence)

Here are Ellie’s previous blogs: Daphne du Maurier and the Gothic and Rebecca, Mary and Rachel: Daphne du Maurier’s unconventional, strong women.

Bibliography

Du Maurier. D. (1938). Rebecca. HarperCollins.

Du Maurier, D. (1951). My Cousin Rachel. Penguin Books.

Du Maurier, D. (1935). Jamaica Inn. Penguin Books.

Daphne du Maurier and the Gothic

By Ellie Jackson

Our guest blogger, Ellie Jackson, a student at Sheffield Hallam University, is looking at the novels of Daphne du Maurier for her final year project. Here are her thoughts about how du Maurier used the aesthetic of the Gothic to great effect in her novels.

The first recognised Gothic novel was written by Horace Walpole in 1764, The Castle of Otranto. The traditional Gothic novel has a number of recognisable key characteristics: death and decay, haunted castles and remote landscapes, intense emotion or fear in the reader. Since the 18th century, the idea of a new, modern Gothic has emerged, and the castle is no longer an essential element to the literature. The narratives of the modern Gothic focus on ‘the urban present, refracting contemporary concerns through the lens of a literature of terror’ (Dryden, 2003).

Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca is an exemplar model of the modern Gothic; it contains a large mansion, a murder, a great fire and a sinister servant. The pre-eminent Gothic trope is the setting: Manderley, the colossal mansion which the heroine, Mrs de Winter, comes to know after marrying Maxim de Winter. Even her first impressions of Manderley are negative, and leave an impact on her perceptions. The ‘gates crashing’, ‘serpent-like drive’ and the ‘roof of branches’ (du Maurier, 1938, 7) envision entrapment and a sense of a hidden evil. The emphasis on a picturesque landscape casts Manderley with a supernatural mystique, with du Maurier exploring her protagonist’s feelings of sublimity and her relationship with her natural surroundings. Mrs de Winter’s inquisitiveness reflects the twentieth century curiosity and thirst for the unknown. Du Maurier plays on this curiosity in the novel – for example, the murder mystery and the supernatural.

The use of the weather in Gothic literature is important, with storms seen as omens of evil, representing the inner self of the protagonist in externalising fears and conflict. The fog has a significant role in the novel, both literally and figuratively. For much of the novel, the fog completely blinds the narrator, Mrs de Winter, but once the truth of Rebecca is revealed, ‘The mist entered my nostrils and lay upon my lips rank and sour. It was stifling, like a blanket, like an anaesthetic. I was beginning to forget about being unhappy, and about loving Maxim. I was beginning to forget Rebecca,’ (du Maurier, 1938, 18). The lingering presence of the late Mrs de Winter was like the fog, clouding the protagonist’s vision and judgement. However, it is not suggested that Rebecca’s presence in Manderley disappears as the fog does. Even when Manderley is burned at the end, the foreboding first line of the novel, ‘Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again’ (du Maurier, 1938, 1) suggests not that the presence of Rebecca has been destroyed with it, but that both the house and Rebecca still haunt Mrs de Winter and her husband.

Manderley burning in the 2020 film adaptation of Rebecca (Creative Commons licence)

Jamaica Inn encompasses similar conventional Gothic tropes, involving ‘a frail protagonist in terrible danger’, because she ‘is placed in a hostile, threatening, mysterious environment, usually so prodigiously large that it dwarfs her; she is made prisoner, she is threatened by individuals who should protect her, parents and parent-figures’ (Grellet, Valentin, 1996). This describes Mary Yellen, as she becomes the perfect Gothic protagonist on her arrival at Jamaica Inn and is threatened both by her (new) parent figures and the house itself. Although the house is not a ruined castle as pictured in The Castle of Otranto, it embodies characteristics of the traditional Gothic setting, with dark secrets hidden within it, secret rooms, doors and passages which du Maurier uses to build the mystery and workings of Jamaica Inn.

Jamaica Inn, as seen in the 2014 BBC adaptation (Creative Commons licence)

While there are conventional elements of the Gothic seen in both Rebecca and Jamaica Inn, du Maurier portrays My Cousin Rachel as the exact opposite. Traditionally, the Gothic novel features a young, naïve heroine whose inexperience puts her in a disadvantaged position with her older male superior. However, this is not the case for Rachel. Though the Gothic trope of the large manor house on the Ashley estate is present in the novel, it has little power compared to the character of Rachel. She is a headstrong, sexually overt, (eventually) economically stable woman with little need for a man. Du Maurier has drawn on Rachel’s personality in this way to encompass fears and curiosity within the reader about the ‘wicked woman’ who is thought to have murdered her husband and attempted to murder Philip too. Both Rebecca and My Cousin Rachel feature the female villain in their stories, but are they really villains at all? Both women have a disruptive effect on the narrators in their novels, but are their actions actually villainous, or are the impressions offered to the reader unfair from the perspective of other characters?

Mystery, suspense and death are present in all of these novels: the lingering death of Rebecca; the dark, dangerous mystery around Jamaica Inn and the activities undertaken there; and the death of Ambrose and poisoning of Philip all convey traditional and modern elements of the Gothic.

Ellie’s blogs on Class and Social Mobility in the novels of Daphne du Maurier and Rebecca, Rachel and Mary: du Maurier’s Strong, Unconventional Women.

Bibliography

Du Maurier, D. (1938). Rebecca. HarperCollins.

Du Maurier, D. (1951). My Cousin Rachel. Penguin Books.

Du Maurier, D. (1935). Jamaica Inn. Penguin Books.

Dryden, L. (2003). The Modern Gothic. In: The Modern Gothic and Literary Doubles. Palgrave Macmillan, London.

Rebecca, Mary and Rachel: Daphne du Maurier’s unconventional, strong women

By Ellie Jackson

It’s good to welcome back guest blogger, Ellie Jackson, from Sheffield Hallam University. Ellie has already written her reading journey and a review of Gaudy Night (1935) by Dorothy L Sayers for our blog. Now she is looking at the novels of Daphne du Maurier for her final year project and, as part of that, is writing three blogs for us. Here is the first.

Daphne du Maurier had already published four novels and two biographies by the age of 30 and went on to write many more novels, short stories etc. Search her name in Google, and the first three book titles to show are Rebecca (1938), Jamaica Inn (1935) and My Cousin Rachel (1951) as her most famous novels. Rebecca is undoubtedly the most recognised novel of the three, with multiple film adaptations and written ‘sequels’ by different authors, such as Mrs de Winter (1993) by Susan Hill or Rebecca’s Tale (2001) by Sally Beauman.

Throughout this blog I will be discussing how du Maurier represents her female protagonist in relation to the gender identities presented in these popular fictions. Du Maurier both demonstrates and also subverts the conventional views of femininity through the use of her protagonists.

In Rebecca, this is particularly suggested by the hidden character of Rebecca herself. In some ways, it is suggested that Maxim de Winter’s first wife is an evil villain, a woman who posed a great threat to the conventional rules of female conduct and therefore judged by her unfeminine behaviour and her subversion of the female ideal of pleasing her husband. But critics have suggested that Rebecca was not only a victim of sexism, but of her husband too. The novel is an important early work of feminism, certainly presenting the ways in which the male character dominates. We only ever hear Maxim’s side of the story. Rebecca is never given a voice to speak her truth. Is Maxim the real villain? A controlling husband who expects his wife to behave as an obedient child and when she refuses to abide by his rules, becomes hateful and lashes out at her? Though absent in the novel, Rebecca has a strong presence throughout. Our impression of her becomes increasingly negative and we are made to believe that she is the primary antagonist of the novel, a skilful manipulator having extramarital affairs, and Maxim is portrayed as her helpless victim. Is the novel ahead of its time in terms of gender roles or has it aged badly? Rebecca is a woman who refused to let marriage destroy her right to identity, but she is also judged according to conventional rules for female behaviour that by modern standards don’t carry much currency.

Mrs de Winter (Joan Fontaine) and Maxim de Winter (Laurence Olivier) from Alfred Hitchcock’s 1940 film, Rebecca (Creative Commons licence)

My Cousin Rachel is a second novel by du Maurier that undoubtedly demonstrates this feminist ideology through her independent protagonist Rachel. Du Maurier makes very clear that in the only sex scene in the novel, Rachel is at the height of her power. From the beginning of the novel, Philip lays down his thoughts on the fundamental rules of female behaviour, in which he suggests women are emotional, unpredictable, ‘erratic and unstable’ (du Maurier, 1951, 5) in contrast to the rationality of a man. Rachel’s expression of her comfortable and overt sexuality completely bewilders Philip, and ultimately du Maurier uses his ambivalence to demonstrate that the power of a man is much stronger than the sexual power Rachel exhibits. This is made evident through Rachel’s inability to become pregnant. Sex is independently an act of pleasure rather than a function of marriage or family, and it is definitively on her own terms as Rachel uses it to ‘thank [him], that’s all’ (du Maurier, 1951, 22). So Rachel denying Philip marriage after they slept together turns him rather violent, emphasising his intolerance of her sexual power by attempting to physically overpower her.

Rachel (Rachel Weisz) and Philip (Sam Claflin) discussing marriage in Roger Michell’s 2017 film, My Cousin Rachel (Creative Commons licence)

The subversion of conventional views of femininity is further shown through du Maurier’s Jamaica Inn. Mary, her protagonist, exhibits a profound loathing for the culturally defined identities which society has given to women. She attempts to ignore her own femaleness, questioning ‘why were women such fools?’ (du Maurier, 1935, 5) in relation to the cruel, powerful character of her uncle Joss. Despite Mary’s self-sufficient character, the lack of identity of a woman under patriarchal influence is demonstrated when she ends up at Jamaica Inn. The masculine power of Joss Merlyn is used as a means to control the women in the novel, as they are ‘trained by constant cruelty to implicit obedience’. (du Maurier, 1935, 2).

Film poster for Alfred Hitchcock’s 1939 film, Jamaica Inn, with Maureen O’Hara as Mary Yellen. In the background, on the far right, is Leslie Banks as Joss Merlyn, Mary’s cruel uncle. (Fair use)

Throughout all three of Du Maurier’s most popular novels, it is fair to suggest that she was ahead of her time in terms of gender identity, with her attempts to subvert the traditional societal roles given to women through her female protagonists, but ultimately positioning the male characters in such a way that they will always be superior. The lives of women are in the hands of the men in each of the novels. Mary is the only female protagonist that makes it out of the hands of her male superior. The same cannot be said for the characters of Rebecca and Rachel, who are both murdered for their ‘crimes’ against traditional feminine standards.

Here is Ellie’s second blog, on Daphne du Maurier’s use of the Gothic, and here is her third, on class in du Maurier’s novels.

Bibliography

Du Maurier, D. (1938). Rebecca. HarperCollins.

Du Maurier, D. (1951). My Cousin Rachel. Penguin Books.

Du Maurier, D. (1935). Jamaica Inn. Penguin Books.

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

By Charlotte Poole

For her book review, our guest blogger, Charlotte from Sheffield Hallam University, chose an old favourite of ours, Rebecca. What does she make of a novel written some 65 years before she was born?

This is the last of our guest student blogs, and it has been great to host reviews and reading journeys from Sheffield Hallam University folk. Many thanks to Dr Ana-Maria Sanchez-Arce for making all this possible.

The book Rebecca was written by Daphne du Maurier in 1938. The story involves a young English woman who travels to France and meets and marries an older rich gentlemen called Maxim de Winter. This woman remains nameless throughout the book but is the main protagonist. They then go back to his mansion in Cornwall called Manderley. It is here that the problem starts. The house carries the strong legacy of Maxim’s late wife, Rebecca – the protagonist consequently has to deal with many issues.

Originally, I thought this novel would be a dull boring dated piece of work, because most things I read from the 19th or early 20th century are not interesting to me (barring Little Women). However, I was pleasantly surprised to find that not only did it hold my attention, but I was eager to continue the story. Somehow, its approach was fresh and exciting. I was pleased to see that on Ruth Potts’ reading journey blog, she said:

Rebecca is my favourite book of all time. My father also loved du Maurier. Rebecca and Jane Eyre are my favourite books, both with strong female lead characters who get what they want in the end. 

Ruth Potts (Hewson, 2019)

I wouldn’t say it’s my own favourite book of all time, but I do agree with Ruth that the strong female character is excellent.

The main themes in this book show the limited choices of a poor lower-class woman in these times, and how one of the only options to better themselves would be to marry an often older richer man with a higher social status. Women did not have financial independence and therefore their decisions were limited. It is disappointing that even now in modern times, women still do not have the same opportunities as men. For instance, we still have an ever-increasing gender pay gap, especially in higher level jobs.

This book demonstrates the inequalities in class. The main character has moved herself upwards by marrying, yet she still identifies more with the household employees because their way of life is all she has ever known (though the household staff mostly resent her because they think she has betrayed her own class). She therefore becomes unwelcome in both worlds, no matter where or how she presents herself. Looking at where we are now, I feel class is thankfully not as important as it was back then. I, myself, feel I can achieve anything I want to and that it is not my social class that is going to hold me back. The difference here is, the main character in the book would never have been able to achieve anything on her own terms.

This publication has been extremely successful world-wide. It was first published in 1938 in London with only 20,000 copies. It has been translated in many languages such as Chinese, French and Ukrainian. It was also huge in America, and this work has been listed in the 20th century American bestsellers by University of Illinois. The author has written many other books, a mixture of fiction and non-fiction. However, none of them have gained the kudos that Rebecca reached.

At the time it was written, the responding reviews were mixed. For example, one reviewer said,

The novel is immensely long, written in the first person by a heroine who remains irritatingly and unnecessarily nameless to the end, and it lumbers along for three-quarters of its length to a creaking Victorian machinery of melodramatic hint and horror and piled-up pathos.

Rowse, 1938, p.233

So they didn’t like it very much then. Personally, I think the main character remaining nameless works, as it adds to her mystique. It is also quite a common writing style e.g. Roald Dahl did the same thing in his book The Witches. Another review I found stated,

If one chooses to read the book in a critical fashion – but only a tiresome reviewer is likely to do that – it becomes an obligation to take off one’s hat to Miss du Maurier for the skill and assurance with which she sustains a highly improbable fiction.

Jasmine, 2018

This review is more in line with how I felt about the book.

The novel has also been made into two films, the first being the Academy Award-winning black and white 1940s Alfred Hitchcock version. This starred the actresses Joan Fontaine and Judith Anderson. Hitchcock was in his element and developed it as a strong psychological thriller. Rotten Tomatoes gave it 100%. The second film was shot in 2020 and starred Armie Hammer and Lily James and Kristin Scott Thomas. The portrayal of Manderley was actually filmed in six different manors and estates, including Cranbourne in Dorset and Hartland Quay in Devon. The Guardian reviewed the film and felt ‘it was an overdressed and underpowered romantic thriller’ (Bradshaw, 2020). In fact, Rotten Tomatoes only gave it 39%. Having been gripped by the novel, I found the film flimsy and misleading – a poor representation of the book.

The author du Maurier was married to Tommy Browning who was a lieutenant colonel in the Grenadier Guards. She was fortunate that she did not need to work and was able to write when she and her husband travelled with the army. The main theme the author wanted to convey in this work was jealousy, a reflection of her own life – as her husband, too had been engaged before to a dark-haired beauty who Du Maurier believed her husband was still in love with. As a theme, the jealousy that the second wife has for the first wife is as relevant in the present as it was back then. The only difference being that perhaps today, it would more likely end in divorce, rather than death.

Here is Charlotte’s reading journey.

Bibliography

Rebecca (novel). Wikipedia. (n.d). Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rebecca_(novel)

Michael Hann (2012, August 7). My favourite Hitchcock: Rebecca. The Guardian. Retrieved from https://www.theguardian.com/film/filmblog/2012/aug/07/my-favourite-alfred-hitchcock-rebecca

Rae Boocock (2020, October 28). Nine Beautiful Film Locations from Netflix’s Rebecca. Suitcase. Retrieved from https://suitcasemag.com/articles/netflix-rebecca-film-locations

Peter Bradshaw (2020, October 15). Rebecca review – overdressed and underpowered romantic thriller. The Guardian. Retrieved from https://www.theguardian.com/film/2020/oct/15/rebecca-review-ben-wheatley-armie-hammer-lily-james-kristin-scott-thomas

Val Hewson (2019, March 8). A Tale of Six Generations: The Reading Journey of Ruth Potts. Reading Sheffield. Retrieved from https://www.readingsheffield.co.uk/a-tale-of-six-generations-the-reading-journey-of-ruth-potts/

Taylor Jasmine (2018, October 6). Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier (1938). Literary Ladies Guide. Retrieved from https://www.literaryladiesguide.com/book-reviews/rebecca-by-daphne-du-maurier-1938-a-review/

A.L. Rowse. (1938, September 3). Books and Authors. Via ProQuest. Retrieved from https://www-proquest-com.hallam.idm.oclc.org/docview/1542861396?pq-origsite=primo

du Maurier, D. (1938). Rebecca. Gollancz.

Charlotte Poole’s reading journey

Charlotte is the last of this year’s Sheffield Hallam students to write her reading journey for us as part of her Ideas into Action module.

I’d like to introduce myself – my name is Charlotte Poole and I am 19 years old. I was born in 2002, in Manchester and spent my first six months there. Then I moved to Lancashire. At the age of seven, I moved again to Derbyshire, where my parents still live. Reading was greatly encouraged in our house.

My relationship with reading started before my memories did. As a child, I was taken to the library along with my older brother. My mum told me that as a child, I would sit on her lap and look at the books that were brought back from the library. My favourite book at the time was Where’s The Baby? It was an interactive hardback book with flaps to pull up. At the end of the book, there was a plastic mirror which my mum would hold up to my face and say, ‘there she is!’ I loved this book so much, my mum had to buy it for me.

Like most children my age at school, I started out by reading the Biff, Chip and Kipper books by Oxford Reading Tree. And also like most children my age, I’d often hide one of the advanced books behind an easier book so everyone thought I was cleverer than I was. One of the interviewees called Natalie Haigh is a similar generation to me. She wrote on her blog:

My very first memory of reading was in primary school. I can vividly remember learning to read. I read the Biff, Chip and Kipper books.

Natalie Haigh

A book I really loved growing up was The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams; I even persuaded my mum to buy me my own copy, since it had originally come from the library. My dad has a passion for books too and was determined to instil that in me as a child. Some evenings, he would read to me before bed. The book he read to me the most was Revolting Rhymes by Roald Dahl. I would always ask for more because I was not ready to go to sleep. I started reading by myself relatively fast because I preferred it. For instance, while my dad read the Harry Potter series to my older brother, I chose to read them on my own. But at a later age, I do remember us reading the occasional book together, such as Nation by Terry Pratchett, and Anne Frank (cheerful books, I know).

Because of my love of books, I was very advanced for my age and reading books for people two years above me. When I moved to Chapel at seven, we always used to go to the library after school since it was on the way (and so was the sweet shop). I noticed that one of the interviewees, Jean A, also enjoyed using the library:

We went to the Children’s Library in the Central. I can remember going there … It was fine, lovely. I was a great reader. I can remember reading The Forsyte Saga when I was about 15, late at night. I was engrossed in it.

Jean A

The local library held a summer reading challenge each year, which I was eager to take part in. This involved reading particular books and collecting stickers to complete a poster. Every year, I was one of the first ones to complete it.

The author I moved to next was Jacqueline Wilson. I’ve probably read over 90 per cent of all her work, my favourite being My Sister Jodie. It was the book that impacted me the most because I did not expect Jodie to die in the end.

By high school, I was developing my own taste and joined the library book club, Carnegie. There were quizzes every week, and sometimes there was party food. By this point, I could recognise good writing, so while I didn’t have a preference on any set genre, I was willing to read anything that was written well, meaning I enjoyed almost all of the Carnegie books. It was here I discovered my three favourite books of all time: One by Sarah Crossan, The Rest Of Us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness, and Buffalo Soldier by Tanya Landman.

The books we had to read for English Literature GCSE were very appealing to me: An Inspector Calls, Romeo and Juliet, and A Christmas Carol. It was interesting learning the social history and context behind these pieces too. I notice that the interviewee James Green also read Little Women like I did: ‘Three of the books that were in this one book, that I can remember, were Robinson Crusoe, Little Women…’. I remember it being the first classic that I read. To Kill A Mockingbird came afterwards. Alongside this, my mother had also taken me to many theatre productions such as Wicked, and The Mousetrap.

At Marple College studying A-Levels, I did not take up English Literature, meaning I had to read in my own leisure time. During that time I read novels such as The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. Whenever I went on holiday, I would always take one or two books with me so I could read them at night (with a torch if I was camping). Now as a second-year student studying at university, I not only read books required for my syllabus but continue to explore new and different novels for my own enjoyment. Presently, I am enraptured by The Stand by Stephen King. It is strange that although the interviewees had only physical copies of books growing up, and I have a variety of choices i.e. Kindle, I prefer actual books too because I like to hold them. I often used to say to my mum (although I no longer voice it now) that I prefer books more than people.

Here is Charlotte’s review of Daphne Du Maurier’s Rebecca.

The King’s Secret Matter (1962) by Jean Plaidy

Sheffield Hallam student Laya Turnbull explores a vintage historical novel new to her.

Upon first searching the name of this book, even before I had read the first page, I assumed the novel would sacrifice the emotion and feeling to stay historically accurate to the story of Henry VIII’s divorce from Catherine of Aragon and his marriage to Anne Boleyn. Even though this event is dramatic in itself when I had been taught about this in school as I studied and enjoyed history in my GCSEs and A levels it was made to seem like a drab story of divorce and infidelity and could not even be compared to the romance drama we see in other fiction and on television today. However, Plaidy seems to rewrite this story perfectly conveying the emotion of a wife going through her husband’s affair and eventual betrayal without sacrificing the facts that lead to the divorce.

The novel takes place twelve years after King Henry VIII married Catherine of Aragon and they have become involved in a loveless marriage. It also takes place when their daughter Princess Mary is a child and not regarded as a suitable heir to the throne. Henry’s desire for a legitimate son and his interest in the young Anne Boleyn causes a power struggle that ruins the lives of Catherine and Mary. We also see the struggle Henry has to secure a divorce and the relationship he has with Cardinal Wolsey that is shown as a devious puppeteer controlling the king.

Whilst I was reading the book I felt a strong sense of nostalgia because it reminded me of reading the historical fiction books by Philippa Gregory whilst I was in school. Much like Reading Sheffield interviewee Gillian Applegate who said in an interview that she had ‘always had a love for history’ and also mentions that she liked the novels of Jean Plaidy which I feel is very similar to how I feel. We both have a love for history and reading and so we both enjoy the historical fiction genre. Gregory’s books sparked my interest in historical fiction as I loved history in school and researching parts of history I enjoyed in my spare time. I enjoyed reading this book as I liked that I felt I already knew about parts of the historical events that Plaidy mentioned. For example when she mentions the Field of the Cloth of Gold in the first few chapters, I had studied it in school also. I liked the feeling that I was building on my knowledge of the Tudors whilst also being entertained by the plot. I also liked how the novel humanised people who were originally thought as emotionless or people that we forget were actual human beings. For example the portrayal of Queen Mary as a child and her naivety and hopes at the beginning of the book contradicts the name Bloody Mary which we all mostly know her as because of her brutal genocide of the Protestants.

My past experience reading historical fiction is very limited and included some novels by Philippa Gregory and a young adult novel that gave an account of the Babington Plot that was also in the Tudor period. Similarly to these novels I felt that The King’s Secret Matter perfectly balanced the factual events with the fictional thoughts and feelings. Eleanor Alice Burford or Jean Plaidy, her pen name, wrote The King’s Secret Matter in 1962 as the fourth addition to her Tudor series. She was known for her historical romances but wrote for many other genres under other pseudonyms. She is also the 71st most borrowed author of 1990-1991 according to a report about the top 100 most borrowed authors in the UK (British Library, 2017). This shows that her relevance did not diminish – the interest in historical fiction continues even thirty years after she published her novels and she still has a ‘strong presence in British public libraries today’ (Wallace, 2005). The media reviews to the novel have been very consistent praising Plaidy for her ability to write historical fiction. Her novels were popular in many countries, her books having been translated into 20 different languages and the New York Times named her a ‘pioneer of the romantic suspense and gothic genre.’ (Lambert 1993).

I felt that reading this book was easy compared to the others I have had to read for other university endeavours. All of the books I read at the moment or in the past year have all been for my course. The King’s Secret Matter is the first one I have read for a while that I feel I did partly choose for myself which meant that I felt more interested and engaged in the actual plot and story, instead of trying to focus on understanding the book and what I could interpret from it which I have to do for the other books and texts for university. I found that I could actually enjoy this novel without any pressure because I knew I had chosen the book purposely as I knew historical fiction was something I enjoyed reading when I was younger.

After reading the novel my interest in history and especially the Tudor period was re sparked. Reading this novel made me want to continue to feed my interest in history so I started to listen to the podcast You’re Dead to Me where Greg Jenner talks with experts and comedians about different historical events. This will allow me to easily continue my interest in history and can still fit in with my busy schedule as a student. Also I would like to start reading the rest of Jean Plaidy’s Tudor saga because I really enjoyed reading and researching The King’s Secret Matter and will hopefully continue with my interest with historical fiction and romance.

Here is Laya’s reading journey.

Laya Turnbull’s reading journey

Laya, a student at Sheffield Hallam University, has written her reading journey for us, as part of her Ideas into Action module.

My first memories of reading for myself, as a younger sibling who wanted be just like her older sister, began with me copying and reading whatever my sister who is two and a half years older was reading at that time because as a child she was also an avid reader and would often share the books after she had read them. This included the Mr Men series by Roger Hargreaves and the Rainbow Magic series by Daisy Meadows but as a small child I could not understand or read properly but enjoyed the colour and trying to collect the whole series. These books still hold sentimental value to me today as I have kept the whole collection in my childhood room as I feel unable to throw them away. Also they still hold relevance to my life today as these books are the theme for my good friend’s birthday party in a few weeks. This shows the sentimental value these sorts of books have for everyone my age and the nostalgia they still have for many people. In talking to my mum about this blog to gather research from her about my childhood reading habits, she told me that when I was little I was also almost obsessed with a book called Eat Your Peas [by Kes Gray]. In this book Daisy’s mother tries to get her to eat her vegetable by promising her increasingly outrageous treats which according to my mum reflected my own attitude to peas when I was younger.

I loved reading as a child and getting read to by my Mum and Dad. However my love for reading declined when I got to secondary school and being forced to read made me lose the enjoyment I once had from it. During this time only choosing short and easy to read stories that probably didn’t interest me just to say I had read something for school because we were made to read or at least look like we were reading during form time. Although my love for reading was regained during the summer and going on holidays when I was not in school. I would read two or three whole novels when on a week long holiday either on the beach or near the pool. I would still describe this as my paradise and my idea of heaven. At this age I tended to read young adult novels usually of the sci-fi or dystopian genre like The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins or The Maze Runner by James Dashner, as I loved the romantic subplots with the action packed scenes.

Surprisingly in school as I got older my love for reading increased again as I enjoyed learning about Shakespeare and the plays and poems we had to learn for my GCSEs and A Levels. My favourites were Macbeth, Othello and Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. The Great Gatsby is still my favourite book to this day and sparked a small obsession with the 1920s aesthetic and even having a 1920s themed birthday party just last year where I dressed as a flapper girl. The poetry side of my schooling however was something I just had to endure. Even though I no longer have a hatred for all poetry I only enjoy small parts like the metaphysical poetry of John Donne and Andrew Marvell. As I got more back into reading I had felt I had missed out on the children’s books and young adult books that everyone was so captivated by. Because of this it was only recently that I decided to read the whole Harry Potter series and also became fixated as I understood why there was so much praise for the series.

Currently I enjoy reading the typical classics including Bram Stoker’s Dracula, George Orwell’s Animal Farm and most recently Pride and Prejudice which has sparked a new love for the romantic genre. I love the social commentary of George Orwell’s novels as it mostly reflects my own views on history and politics that I still think are relevant today as I and the author both support socialism. I also have found recently that I enjoy the horror genre after reading Stephen King’s Misery whose tension and unsettling nature stayed with me for weeks after. In the future I am going to read more of his novels. I most want to read Carrie and Pet Sematary. Furthermore, my wish to read lots of ‘classics’ is due to a poster I own where you have to scratch off the books you have read, called the ‘100 books bucket list’. This has prompted me and pushed me to start reading more again. I am making my way through this list slowly and steadily as some of the books on there are not something I would usually read but I feel like it would make me broaden my horizons and read more genres. I am continuing to try and read more of these classics but I am also currently interested in reading online newspapers, magazines and blogs because it feeds my desire to continue my interests in reading but they are short enough that my attention span is not tested and can fit into my busy life at university. I find that trying to fit reading long novels that I do enjoy is difficult to continue in my university life so just reading short newspaper articles and blogs and keeping up with current events is easier for me. I am currently reading Daphne du Maurier’s Jamaica Inn and its mystery genre is something I would like to continue reading.

Here is Laya’s review of The King’s Secret Matter by Jean Plaidy.

On the Beach (1957) by Nevil Shute

By Herbie Williams

Here is our guest blogger Herbie Williams, from Sheffield Hallam University, on Nevil Shute and his novel On the Beach.  

I would not consider myself a fan of ‘classic’ books. Upon first reading the brief for the Reading Sheffield blogs and the list of authors and books, there was only a handful that I had previously heard of. Having read H G Wells’ War of the Worlds and the works of Dickens in A Christmas Carol years ago in my GCSE English lessons, the remaining books and authors were mostly unfamiliar to me. As I discussed in the previous blog about my reading journey, I would consider myself a picky reader, so few of the books stood out to me on paper. The novel I ended up selecting was the On the Beach by Nevil Shute. Judging on the name of the novel, I assumed this would be a fictional story about romance between surfers, hence I went into researching the novel with no expectations of enjoying it. However, after reading the synopsis for On the Beach, it immediately piqued my interest.

Published in 1957, On the Beach is a dystopian / post-apocalyptic novel often described as Nevil Shute’s most powerful and moving. Born in England in 1899, after his service in the Second World War he emigrated to Australia, where the novel is mostly set. The novel begins shortly after nuclear explosions wipe out almost all of western civilisation, with the radiation that followed slowly killing the rest. On the Beach tells a story of normal people living their normal life, including the crew of a remaining nuclear submarine. Initial optimism is short lived, as the community come to terms, knowing these are their last days on the poisonous earth of humanity’s own creation, despite the southern hemisphere having no involvement in the conflict causing it. Both I as a reader and the characters eventually accept that there is no escaping the invisible and inevitable death by the nuclear fallout. I thoroughly enjoyed the portrayal of the characters’ reaction to this, as they ridicule others as they make plans for the future only to continue with life as usual. I found myself strangely enthralled by the hopelessness and bleakness of the story, along with Shute’s matter-of-factly, almost cynical style of writing. There are no heroes or villains or silver linings in the story, just constant pessimism.

Alternate history and post-apocalyptic fiction has been a niche interest of mine for many years. One of my favourite video game franchises, Fallout, follows the narrative of our timeline diverging in the 1940s following the Second World War. In the Fallout universe, the nuclear paranoia of the Cold War never ceases, technology advances rapidly and yet the aesthetic of the 1950s remains strong all the way through to the final quarter of the 21st century, where humanity meets its apparent end as nuclear weapon-induced, mutually-assured destruction bombards western civilisation. There are multiple parallels between the two fictional realities that instantly drew my attention. While Fallout takes a more savage and truly apocalyptic approach to nuclear fallout, with the radiation causing freakish mutations to humans and animals, On the Beach explores humanity’s contrasting reaction to inevitable death, with civilisation continuing normally until accepting defeat in dignity. I had not previously considered this perspective of a post-apocalyptic society, making the premise of the book interest me more.

As I researched the media opinion of the novel and Nevil Shute in its release year, reviews and critiques were few and far between. The Daily Telegraph describe the book as ‘quietly and deliberately terrible’. However, two films based on and named after the novel were created in 1959 and 2000, meaning it was large enough in pop culture to be recognised in Hollywood despite not being a household name, at least to my knowledge. As the book was published a relatively short time after the end of the Second World War, and during the height of the Cold War, one can only imagine that the novel was even more terrifying and bleak to the general public historically, with nuclear war being a very real threat. Despite being dated and slightly naive in its understanding of a nuclear war, I think the novel holds up well today in terms of readability. However, I personally thought Shute’s presentation of female characters in the story to be rather rigid and simple, perhaps a sign of attitudes towards women in the 50s. Reading Sheffield interviewee Anne B is very familiar with the works of Shute, having read many of his novels but believed ‘none of them were as memorable as [On The Beach and A Town Like Alice]’.

Having started to read On the Beach expecting a slog, to say my experience with the book was a pleasant surprise is an understatement. Despite very much being a slow burner, Shute’s cold and detached writing style to reinforce the bleakness of the novel and ability to create incredibly powerful imagery had me gripped, disturbed and borderline depressed. The novel can be summarised by the final stanza in T.S. Eliot’s infamous 1925 poem, The Hollow Men – ‘This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper.’

Here is Herbie’s reading journey.

Herbie Williams’ reading journey

Herbie Williams is the latest of our guest bloggers from Sheffield Hallam University. Here he talks about how the Ideas into Action project helped him work out what reading means to him.

Having been born and bred in Sheffield in council estates far from where most of my primary school friends lived, entertainment in my early school years usually consisted of solo activities. Playing with Lego and Star Wars figures and Lego Star Wars: The Video Game were my favourite hobbies in my free time, but the one thing that kept me quiet for countless hours was reading. From the Mr Men and The Very Hungry Caterpillar and The Wide Mouthed Frog and Dirty Bertie to The Diary of a Wimpy Kid franchise and their seemingly endless follow-up books that followed me throughout school (and admittedly much later as I picked up my brother’s copy of the newest addition to the series to keep up-to-date with Greg Heffley, the main character). I even went to school for World Book Day as Greg, an intricate costume consisting of jeans and a white t-shirt. Reading influenced and shaped me in more ways than meets the eye.

I have fond memories of using my torch to secretly read past my bedtime under my duvet and quickly pretending to be asleep after hearing footsteps on the stairs. Even when I was rumbled, my mum often didn’t scold me, usually giving a gentle slap on the wrist. This however was very much not the case when I got caught playing Mario Kart after my bedtime. She had always promoted reading as a healthy hobby for me and took a very active interest in making sure I had a steady supply of reading material. If there was a book from a series that I had enjoyed, my mum would scour the internet and local bookshops to find any sequels, prequels, spinoffs or anything in-between.

I’ve never really got into ‘the classics.’ Looking at the list of authors and books that were considered must-reads and realising I had not heard of most of them was quite daunting. Of all the titles in the reading list, only two of them had I read before. I had sometimes considered whether elitism may creep into reading, with some thinking that my motivations and attitudes towards reading may be looked down upon. Since writing this blog however, I came to the conclusion that this project was to get an accurate representation of what reading meant and means to me. It doesn’t matter whether I read for enjoyment or to gain more knowledge about a certain subject, only the journey that reading takes me on matters. It also gave me some level of comfort knowing that some of the Reading Sheffield interviewees held similar views and experiences regarding ‘classics’. The only one that came to mind that I enjoyed was William Golding’s Lord of the Flies when reading and analysing it at school but I never considered pursuing similar titles.

While to my peers at primary school reading was mainly a mandatory task or chore, to me reading was a favourite pastime. I treated my academic assigned reading as a time trial instead of enjoying the book and comprehending it as much as possible. Starting with Biff, Chip and Kipper and their adventures in The Magic Key by Oxford Reading Tree, the shelves of books at school to work through the various reading levels at school never interested me as I was a very picky reader. However, the reward for completing the reading levels was becoming a ‘free reader’. This meant I could read books of my own choosing from my own collection and claim it as my weekly reading homework. Even when I wasn’t reading, I was building up my vocabulary: one of my favourite games was finding new words on my pocket electronic thesaurus at school.

My family were another factor that influenced my reading journey – my grandparents. I went to my granny and grandad’s house at least once a week and indulged in cheese on toast and a very enthusiastic reading of The Tiger Who Came to Tea. A trip to the library where my granny volunteered to collect a new book or two to put me on for a few days was also commonplace.

Although as I entered sixth form and higher education my passion for reading was nowhere near what it once was. During the various lockdowns of 2020/21, I picked up my old Kindle out of boredom and flicked through some of my teenage years favourites: The Knife of Never Letting Go, the Gone series and my all-time favourite book, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time. It at least reminded me of my love for reading. Today, as other hobbies and commitments have taken priority over reading, I still bring a book with me on public transport or read for an hour or so before going to sleep.

Here is Herbie’s review of Nevil Shute’s novel, On the Beach.

A Review of Gaudy Night (1935) by Dorothy L Sayers

By Ellie Jackson

Ellie, whose reading journey is here, is one of our student bloggers from Sheffield Hallam University. Here is her take on Dorothy L Sayers’ crime novel, Gaudy Night, about poison pen letters in an Oxford College – and about women’s role in the world. Sayers’ stories were popular with many of our interviewees, all born in the middle of the last century, long before Ellie.

Note: The blog includes spoilers.

Dorothy Leigh Sayers published her first novel in 1923 introducing Lord Peter Wimsey, with the publication of Gaudy Night in 1935 being another addition to the Wimsey-Vane Saga. I have sought through many reviews on the internet in order to get a grasp of others’ opinions on the Wimsey-Vane Saga, and come to the conclusion that many have thought Gaudy Night to be the culmination of the Saga, although it is actually not the final piece of the chronicles. There’s Busman’s Honeymoon (1937) and Dorothy Sayers began writing Thrones, Dominations but she later abandoned it and the novel was merely notes and fragments of the story after her death. The novel was later finished by Jill Paton Walsh, and published in 1998. Gaudy Night begins with a reunion at Shrewsbury College, a mysterious crime of poison pen letters and tormenting events in which famous mystery writer Harriet Vane, the protagonist of the novel previously proven innocent and saved by Wimsey after the accusation of a murder she didn’t commit, investigates. The novel is full of gripping techniques of ‘whodunnit’ and I found it rather difficult to put down after beginning. Dorothy was an English crime writer and poet, best known for her mystery novels (The Dorothy L Sayers Society, 2019). Dorothy Sayers is known as one of the ‘big four’ female detective writers from the ‘golden age’ of detective fiction (GBSM, 2012) along with great writers such as Agatha Christie, Margery Allingham, and Ngaio Marsh. The golden age of detective fiction is still one of the most popular literary genres generally regarded as spanning from 1920 to 1940, and remains as a generic highpoint in literary fiction (UOO, 2022).

Before I began this project, I had never read or heard of Dorothy Sayers’ series of mystery novels. Truth be told, I had no particular interest in reading mystery fiction before commencing my project on Gaudy Night either. Often in my youth I found murder mystery novels to be particularly lightweight in comparison to other literary texts and novels I had read and enjoyed for its passion and emotion, “gives rise to no feelings or evokes no dream” (Brody, 1985). They tend to be least focused on the emotional development and growth of the main character, and rather concerned with answering the question of ‘who committed the crime?’. It is also suggested that detective fiction is said to ‘continually invent stricter rules for itself’ and ‘it is careful only to leave no suspense, nothing unclear. Everything mysterious that it introduces, it makes coherent.’ (Brody, 1985). For this reason, I have never enjoyed reading detective fiction as there is never room left for the readers’ imagination. Surprisingly, I thoroughly appreciated reading Gaudy Night and after witnessing the development of feminist ideas and how class divisions are being represented even within a mystery novel, I now have a completely different perspective for mystery fiction. Perhaps because I have matured and have more reading experiences now than I did the last time I attempted reading a mystery fiction, or because I found it refreshing to read something entirely different to anything I would usually choose. I found Gaudy Night to be less of a stereotypical detective novel, and was able to leave some ideas to the imagination. Regrettably, I did not read the thrilling series in order of events, and so jumping straight in at Gaudy Night I had to work harder to understand what was unfolding throughout the novel, however this did not hinder the pleasure of reading it. Despite having not read the complete saga, I have searched the internet for many in depth reviews and criticisms for the previous novels, and found that in fact not reading the series in order is the most popular opinion when it comes to discovering the emotional intensity of Gaudy Night, and so the reader has no emotional investment already present for each of the characters. Sayers has a superb writing style that keeps the story flowing but also delivers humorous and thought provoking comments to keep the mystery and development of characters and allows insight into the mind of the heroin and writer. In addition to such research, I found that Gaudy Night is the first to adopt a feminist ideology between all of the Wimsey novels, discussing the struggles and development of female characters toward equality and education. Sayers presents her heroine finally as a centre point in the Wimsey saga, a woman with detective qualities and employed to investigate a crime. Sayers does a wonderful job of creating a meaningful but complicated relationship between Harriet and Peter, in which the heroine does not conform to usual stereotypes for women in the time period and the male character respects such behaviour. I think she allows the reader to see the subtle and unspoken moments but also the significance of them. After researching many newspaper articles from the 20th century on Dorothy Sayers and Gaudy Night, The Times newspaper suggests ‘Dorothy Sayers in her early twenties was a focal point for the young people of literary importance of her time.’ (The Times Newspaper, 1958. Pg 13). Harriet is a successful author, wondering if mystery novels will ever rise to the level of literature, mirroring her creator.

Gaudy Night is absolutely a mystery novel – however it contains no actual murder, just a series of poison pen letters, in which the heroine of the story, Harriet, is asked to capture the culprit of these letters and practical jokes played by an individual attending Shrewsbury College. The perpetrator is found to be a servant, an individual seemingly invisible to the rest of the population of the College. Sayers represents the idea of class division by making the invisible servant visible, and reinforcing prejudices against class and femininity throughout the novel. Upon commencing research for this novel and author, I discovered the interview of Kath and Ken conducted by Reading Sheffield. As conversation is flowing, Ken begins to discuss the works of Dorothy Sayers, particularly Gaudy Night. He refers to it as a ‘fantastically written thing’, an opinion I would be inclined to agree with. He also makes a great point about the class distinctions and prejudices throughout the novel, relevant to the time frame in which it was written and the view others have on reading about more old-fashioned ideas and particularly rejecting them, and suggests that ‘if you can’t read a book because that puts you off, it deprives you of so much that’s been written’. Ken makes a valid observation, as most popular fiction from the 1930s contain old-fashioned ideas and can be seen as controversial in modern literature, but don’t take away the significance at the time, or the significance of the message throughout.

Gaudy Night was an absolute pleasure to read, and I can confirm I will be reading the complete saga.

Here is Ellie’s reading journey.

Bibliography

Brody, M. (1985). The Haunting of “Gaudy Night”: Misreadings in a Work of Detective Fiction. Style, 19(1), 94–116. http://www.jstor.org/stable/42945532

Gerard Bianco Storyteller Marketing, 2012. DO YOU KNOW THE “BIG FOUR” FEMALE DETECTIVE WRITERS FROM THE “GOLDEN AGE”? https://gerardbianco.blogspot.com/2012/08/do-you-know-big-four-female-detective.html

The Dorothy L Sayers Society, 2019. About Dorothy L Sayers. https://www.sayers.org.uk/biography

The Times Newspaper, 1958. Miss Dorothy Sayers. Issue no. 54037. Pg 13. University of Oxford, 2022. The Golden Age of British Detective Fiction. https://www.conted.ox.ac.uk/courses/the-golden-age-of-british-detective-fiction?gclid=Cj0KCQiAu62QBhC7ARIsALXijXQM5rQy9do9UC32rA1tvaqJKBwvLhR_SCWuF2EyyH7vt2mB8ulYh8kaAgHqEALw_wcB