NYRB Classics discussion

New folder for discussion on Don't Look Now. Apologies for the delay, and I am behind on my reading. But I promise to attack the book this weekend and join in the fray soon.

Nick

Okay, I guess this is the thread we're talking about the book on. I've finished the first story ('Don't Look Now') and am a fair way into the second.

I really liked the first creepy tale of our collection. I liked the innocent humor with which it started out and the sinister quality that steadily encroached. I wonder why so many stories of Venice speak of death and the macabre? For a charming tourist destination, it has a pretty bad rep.

Having recently read another NYRB classic, Simenon's Red Lights, I found some similarities. But though in Simenon's book, you quickly see the protagonist's tragic flaw, in this book, the narrator's fault is harder to pick out. He drinks, but it isn't drinking that is his downfall. Unusually, the only real flaw that he has is his refusal to acknowledge his own psychic gifts. Not something we generally require of people in our day to day lives, is it? Nevertheless, it does work in the story. The moment of seeing his wife returning on the ferry with the twins is completely convincing. Or at least it was to me...

Thanks, Seana. I'm interested in your points about the characters flaws. In Hollywood horror films, the characters often have flaws (usually arrogance I suspect), but that doesn't seem the case here, especially in The Birds when the main character is very proactive.

What I am absolutely loving is the setting. I think you're right about Venice, how strange that a city famous for its beauty is transformed into such an ugly and dark place. And while reading The Birds I was amazed at how different it was from the Hitchcock film (which I haven't seen in a while). Both work, I think, but the coastal region is well described in the book, as is the weather and tides.

We're are not the only people with this choice for a book club--The Guardian UK is doing it too!

Here are some of the links:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011/...

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011/...

Anyone want to respond?

Plus the good people at Paris Review like it too: http://www.theparisreview.org/blog/20...

Copying this from my blog, comments on four of the stories and other works they reminded me of:

"Don't Look Now," the title story, is about a couple on vacation in Venice. They encounter a strange couple and one of the two claims to see their recently deceased daughter. It reminded me of The Comfort of Strangers by Ian McEwan, and I was cringing as the end got closer, fully expecting it to be as disturbing as McEwan's had been (although, granted, McEwan wrote his after Daphne du Maurier). The story had a twist, completely different, but memorable.

"The Birds" is a chilling story of nature gone wrong, and is the basis for the Alfred Hitchcock film of the same name. I keep reading that there isn't much in common between the two besides the name, but I'll have to delay judgment until I've seen it. Just add it to the epic list of movies I've never seen! In some ways it brings to mind stories where humanity does not necessarily prevail, tangentially relating to novels like Earth Abides. (Is that a stretch? It makes sense to me!)

"Kiss Me Again, Stranger" is like the scary stories we used to tell in the dark during sleep overs. I remember one in particular that my friend Mercedes-from-California told me when she was sleeping on the trundle bed in my room - something about a girl home alone, hearing about a serial killer on the radio and reaching down to be comforted by her dog who always licks her hands, and realizing in the morning that it must have been the killer under her bed since her dog was trapped outside (or dead in the bathroom, depending on how scary you want the story to be). Think of a scary story you told at night... this story is like that.

"Monte Verità" is the story of a mysterious community living at the top of a mountain. I did a little hunting around, and the Swiss mountain of the same name really is the home of multiple utopian societies throughout history, and currently has some sort of vegetarian group centered there. It has also been a draw to thinkers and philosophers, particularly in the 20th century. Daphne du Maurier wrote it halfway through the century (published in 1952), and it makes you wonder.... This story was probably my favorite. It had elements of crazy fantasy right next to disturbing reality, and it made it seem much more possible.

It was very strange to read the original The Birds. Hitchcock took a lot of liberties, but having seen the movie at some point, I think he did a great job of keeping the feeling and sense of the story in tact. I did see it, but it's been so long that I don't know how the details all compare, and I remember it being more about ravens or crows than all birds.

I was telling a friend about this story today and he knew a tidbit about the Hitchcock version, which was that Hitchcock had been sent a clipping from my part of the world, which is the California Central Coast, which told of a weird bird incident where birds were throwing themselves against windows, etc. It turned out that they had somehow gotten their nervous systems screwed up because of a red tide, which had some kind of algae or something that was making them crazy. I find the coincidence of this quite fascinating.

NYRB, yes superb writing of settings. And it doesn't seem to matter what setting. I'm reading the one set out at sea right now, and it's just as good.

Jenny, interesting comparison to McEwan. I've read him, but I haven't read that one.

I liked the story "The Birds" and I liked the Hitchcock movie. It's true that he movie is different, but I like it just as it is. It has a touch of humor here and there thrown in amongst the fright and a different ending (I won't tell the ending for those who haven't seen it yet).

I think Don't Look Now is a far better movie adaptation than The Birds. The Birds short story is a more interesting arc (which is not to say I don't appreciate Hitchcock and all the great cinematic qualities of the movie--it's just heavily adapted and loses something in the translation). Don't Look Now on the other hand--amazing movie! Greatly expands on the scope and creepiness of the story. In any case, it's worth reading the stories first.

Thanks Nick, I hadn't even realized that the discussion had started!

For me, The Birds was by far the strongest story of the collection. The writing was so taut from the first sentence. There was almost a claustrophobic feeling mounting as the story went on -- the birds narrowing in and creeping closer from the water to the hedges, the shuttering of the home with boards and then the filling of the cracks and crevices with carcasses and the smell of burning feathers? So wonderfully descriptive.

I'm in agreement with Jenny in finding 'Monte Verita' to be the most impressive story of the collection. For me the story is less burdened by the need to have a big revelation at the end (something which diminishes other stories in the collection) because that particular story begins at the end and then opens out to the mysterious happening that brought the ending about. I liked 'Split Second' too; the air of displacement and solipsistic irritation is very well sustained. However when I encountered the same basic plot in 'Blue Lenses', I found the story a bit irritating and its cut-price surrealism just didn't work, I thought. But what occurred to me very strongly was that stories like 'Split Second' and 'Kiss Me Again, Stranger' could have succeeded just as well as stories that explored the horribly exact British class distinctions with which both stories began. I think they would have been every bit as interesting, or more so, without the overly dramatic plot twists.

Declan, I agree about Split Second. The small detail of the swerving truck not truly realized until the end was a nice turn of events. Monte Verita was another favorite due to the relaxed style of writing, setting and no "ghost story" plot.

Blue Lenses as well as most of the others just felt like stories we told as children. They were a bit predictable and felt like filler. Maybe better if recited to a group of friends with only candles lit for some old fashioned story-telling.

Jenny wrote: "...something about a girl home alone, hearing about a serial killer on the radio and reaching down to be comforted by her dog who always licks her hands, and realizing in the morning that it must have been the killer under her bed since her dog was trapped outside (or dead in the bathroom, depending on how scary you want the story to be). ..."

I so remember that story.

Yes Mikki, I agree completely with what you say. I suppose my main question would be: how many of the stories would one want to read a second time? Having said that, most were enjoyable to read once. I would say the weakest were 'Blue Lenses', 'Escort' and 'La Sainte-Vierge'. The latter is surely an insult to women everywhere.

I find myself in agreement with you all. There is a bit of inconsistency in these stories. The ones I like least were the ones that the reader is waiting till the end for the 'surprise' revelation. I didn't think they worked as well. But I loved 'Don't Look Now' (even though that does have the 'surprise' ending), 'The Birds', and 'Monte Verita' the best. I also like 'Kiss Me Again, Stranger' because it was so weird.

One point I wanted to hear everyone's opinion about was more of a historical perspective. World War II and it's aftermath seem to be very prevalent in most of the stories (less 'Don't Look Now' more 'Kiss Me, Stranger', 'The Escort' and 'Split Second'). Is it a comment on the unexpected violence of nature (human nature being the real culprit post-WWII)? Is it a realization that technological advancement doesn't really make human life better (and can potentially be very destructive)? Or is it a general rejection of the English ideology that if the whole world accepted their culture everyone would be better for it? Or am I way of base here from the start?

No Nick, I don't think that you're off base. I noticed the similarities as well, but did not really focus on emphasis. I need to go back and check to see dates of original publication for each story (or when written) to gather thoughts.

I too think you are in the right territory Nick, although I didn't pick up on the questioning of British colonialism so much and would be very interested to know where you thought that was a factor. Reading 'The Birds', I was very struck by how the whole story seemed to be asking the question: supposing we had been invaded during in World War II, what would it have felt like? How would one's spirit hold up knowing that all the defence forces had been defeated and your neighbours were lying dead outside their home? I'm sure that similar thoughts of apprehension and disquiet must have been playing on her mind when she wrote the other stories you mention.

I guess I was thinking less of the practicalities of colonialism and more of the missionary mindset: "We're taking over here for your own good. We know more that you do." When this belief fails, does it throw the whole sense of rationalism over nature, which seems to be the case in may of du Maurier's stories.

But this is definitely a different track than others are taking. Here's a discussion from the Guardian again, with a much more personal tone than we've gone.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011/...

Also, I watch Don't Look Now the movie last night, and loved it. Slightly different from the story, but really holds pretty close (except for the sex scene, of course). Interested to know what anyone else thinks.

Also, I should probably start a discussion for November picks, right?

I finished "Split Second" this morning, and I've enjoyed all the stories up till then, and really the way they create this tense atmosphere where you know something is going to be revealed, even if the "surprise" is often clumsy or leaving you with a "that's it?" type feeling. I don't read horror or psychological thrillers often, so this is pretty interesting territory for me.

Probably the thing that creeps me out about the reveals of each story is they way they are dealt with. Rather than a more conventional "ta-da!" approach, with some shocking revelation, they all seem to reveal themselves almost naturally, where the lead character more or less succumbs to their psychological disturbances and just go with it. The stories rarely have a definitive or pleasing "end" - but with the thought that these stories and characters are going to continue falling, but are more or less through fighting it.

Anyway, interested to see what the second half reveals.

Nick,

Thanks for the Guardian link. I found the Q&A with Justine Picardie very interesting, especially where she speaks of the comparison of Daphne de Maurier's works and personal life.

As for the comparison with other of her works: I think it's worth comparing with her other short stories -- The Birds, for example, or any of those in 'The Breaking Point' collection, which were written at the same time as her own breaking point -- a breakdown in her marriage in the late 50s, when her husband was having an affair, and when both she and her husband suffered intense mental anguish as a result.

Regarding next month's book, I have two suggestions. The first is The Vet's Daughter by Barbara Comyns which Mikki wrote about recently in such a way as to make me want to read it tout de suite. The other is Irretrievable by Theodore Fontane. The only book of his that I have read is Effi Briest which is a wonderful novel.

Thanks, Declan!

Hello, all. I read this collection about a year ago, and it was my first du Maurier [don't readers usually start with Rebecca?]. My thoughts are over in my book blog, but here are some of them:

I don’t really know what I was expecting — something Gothic, something vaguely sepia-hued [a rather curious detail in how I read works older than fifty years]. I suppose I was ready for something quaintly Gothic. I don’t know what that means either.

Well, it was a great collection, ridiculously so — my introduction to du Maurier couldn’t have been any better. Made up of nine very long stories [thus, book's ridiculous fatness], all finely wrought [which makes for a finely wrought fat book?].

What I began noticing about du Maurier’s stories was how they kept straddling two worlds – perceived reality, and that otherworldly, not-quite-right offering. In the title story “Don’t Look Now,” a couple on a marriage-preserving holiday encounters two strange old women. There was this pervasive eeriness, this feeling that something just wasn’t right. Most of the narrative hinting at the Gothic, and these are hints the reader is inclined to brush aside because the main character does the same for most of the story — regardless of the “presence” of ghosts and visions and specters. And so when that turn happens – ah, turns – it’s inevitable, and horrifying in how casually sinister it all was.

This two-worlds thing is at its simple in “La Sainte-Vierge,” where this girl Marie prays for the safety and swift return of her sailor-love. She loves too much, too obsessively, and it’s so uncomfortable, this kind of blind love – there’s something not quite right about that, about the whole situation. Eventually, things are revealed – a little too directly for my tastes – and things, of course are not what they seem. Here, it’s a matter of perception.

In “Indiscretion,” it’s a matter of deception. A bitter retelling of an old romance with a man hours away from his wedding. There’s something so icky about the unfolding. Something distasteful in how we – and the characters – realize that their realities aren’t what they’ve perceived all along. What’s more masterful skillful with this story is that these epiphanies overlap between two characters in ways that has everything involved going Noooo.

In “Monte Verità,” a [goddamned] long story [it's nearly a novella], the liminal-ness is a physical thing. There are hints of another world, and we’re brought to that by the suspiciously wonky obsessions — this destiny thing, this concept of something calling you from somewhere else — of three people. I struggled with the length, I did, but goodness, it is so worth it.

And “The Birds.” Good god, the birds, you seriously creeped me out. This was terrifying. Sasha-reading-this-pressed-against-one-wall-of-her-damnably-empty-apartment aside, du Maurier continues that liminal thread: There are birds in the countryside, and they’ve been acting strange. Easy to brush off, and most of the characters in the story do. It’s a natural phenomenon, these birds. And that turn comes yet again, of course things are not right:

"Nat listened to the tearing sound of splintering wood, and wondered how many million years of memory were stored in those little brains, behind the stabbing beaks, the piercing eyes, now giving them this instinct to destroy mankind with all the deft precision of machines."

Understated gray apocalypse, “The Birds” is one of the best stories I have ever read. There’s not a lot of intelligent things I can say about the story because 1] I couldn’t take notes, and 2] I just really want to tell y’all that this is writing at its finest and it scared the bejeebies out of me.

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Okay. I think I may have overstayed my Long Comment Welcome. :)
http://silverfysh.wordpress.com/2010/...

Sasha, when you do read Rebecca, I think you'll get more of the sepia-toned writing you were expecting. I agree that comparatively, the stories were surprising and good.

Thanks for that Sasha. I just wanted to add that I saw Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds" this weekend. Apparently du Maurier did not like it, though she did like his version of "Rebecca." There are some pretty serious differences--the location of Northern California, and also the strange Oedipal mother/son/girlfriend relationship. Also, it doesn't have the same global apocalyptical strain the books does, the movie seems to suggest it's just in one town. I couldn't help but think of The Road, while watching it, and the similarities are closer to the story than the movie. I will say that Hitchcock is great at getting the transformations of the characters. The confident, charming, and impulsive Tippi Hendren in the beginning of the movie is reduced to a shell-shocked doll at the end.

I finally finished the book this morning and wanted to post some thoughts while they were still fresh. One thing is that the stories do seem to be very strongly of their period, which has both strengths and weaknesses. I had a very 'forties movie' feel through much of them. This has its charms, but there is also a slightly dated quality to many of them.

One thing that struck me was that several of the stories tend not to be as tightly written as they would be now. 'The Blue Lenses' for example tends to get mired down in describing what every possible character looks like as an animal, and 'Split Second' also drags things out a bit at least for modern tastes.

I can see why DuMaurier might have been upset with Hitchcock's free hand with 'The Birds', and his story does change things from the apocalyptic to the more regional, which alters the message. However, I think he did get the tone of terror and menace and in fact the story suffered slightl for me because I had already experienced that horror through the movie. I learned in mentioning this book to a friend that Hitchcock got his own ideas about the story from learning of an incident right here in Santa Cruz, where the birds were divebombing people. Turned out they were maddened by some red tide plankton or something they had consumed.

I think that what really holds up in these tales are DuMaurier's powers of description. I'm not really the biggest fan of descriptive passages in general, but again and again she was able to convey setting in a way that seemed fresh and alive and held my interest. And people too, when she had a mind to do so. The girl in the theatre as she is initially described, for instance. Vivid.

I haven't had a chance to check the Guardian discussion but will take a look. In any case, this was a fun and apt read for October.