#Rebecca daphne du maurier

[cementbeverage]

Heavily inspired by this. Because I saw it and thought of them immediately.

[motorway-south]

i know its pointless to debate meaningless tumblr litcrit terms but "haunting the narrative" as a concept gets thrown around all too much for my liking. you can't use haunting the narrative to describe absolutely any character who was grieved over (especially if the character functionally exists within the narrative to die i.e. the dozens of dead dance era targs)

i think to truly haunt the narrative the central thread of the story needs to be a clash of interpretations over what the characters intentions or feelings were (or at least a clash of perceptions). the first one i can think of is Suddenly, Last Summer by Tennesee Williams

in this story, cathy is a young woman who witnessed the death of her cousin sebastian last summer, and she wars with sebastian's mother violet over what exactly happened, who sebastian was, if cathy is or isnt mad. it's revealed that sebastian was queer and also kinda a predatorand also catherine was super into him, and obviously violet doesn't want this getting out. cathy and violet both mourn the versions of sebastian they each have in their heads: as a mommas boy or a sexy older cousin, while they both aim to stamp out the secret they both hold about him. but sebastian is slowly revealed to the audience in a careful peeling back of his character, in a way that his ghost physically occupies so much of the page

the other example is the titular rebecca from rebecca by daphne du maurier, who's character the audience and narrator have to uncover entirely posthumously through mr de winters or mrs danvers or whoever else. the narrator is literally haunted by rebecca, but the narrative form is too - it is deciding what her intentions are, and how this untimely death with resolve itself in the characters

its why i balk at the idea of robb stark "haunting the narrative" (no hate to robb we love robb here). first of all hes alive for 2.5 books but second we don't really uncover more about him after his death. his siblings mourn him but theres hardly a question of what his legacy/intentions/or character were like before his death that is reshaped afterwards

[txciaz]

Danny.... Danny my beloved..... ( mwah mwah )

[igelmanz]

making all of my Rebecca art in black and white is actually my favourite thing ever

[rahabq]

[booplesnotts-art]

And then they kissed

Redrawing of this one picture I discovered a while back that’s been sitting in my camera roll since because I was talking about it with mutuals on instagram and the lesbian urges took over me

[unamazing-sheep21]

What is this genre of character called. Byronic heroine. Byronic villainess. Some secret crazier third thing, we will never know.

What we do know is that they would get along great and make the most unhinged band ever.

Characters ( from left to right): Lucille Sharpe ( Crimson Peak), Catherine Earnshaw/Linton ( Wuthering Heights), Bertha Mason Rochester ( Jane Eyre), and Rebecca de Winter ( Rebecca)

[edgyparrot]

Look at her. I love her

💐

[bloodsportified]

happy lesbian visibility week to this diva. loving her, missing her. you were sooo visible, babe!

[crystalclocktower]

Im she but not her because I'll never be her

[mean-lesbians]

This came to me in a vision

[marascomics]

Reading Danvich fanfiction nobody talk to me

[aliesafenlock]

A Chicago-inspired "Rebecca Alternate Ending" video by Kara Lane and Lauren Jones!

"We've been sent so much fanfic from all over the world, and we've loved every single alternate ending! We thought we'd create our own. Chicago the play was first performed on Broadway in 1926, the same year Rebecca is set... Maybe that's where the similarities end... or maybe not!"

[txciaz]

DANNY‼️‼️‼️ I am so in love with her and this story i am autistically obsessed. ( touch for better quality... )

close ups and a brighter version below!

[igelmanz]

Angry Danny? ANGRY DANNY!!!

[gwouinaelle]

Drawing inspired by the fic of @aliesafenlock "Her Heart is Fit for Home"!!

I love this fic so much and who doesn't need a bit of Susan!Danny in their life? And here's a close up because I'm kinda proud of their expressions:

The snippet that got me:

“Do you dance, Mrs. Danvers?”

Her reverie broken, the housekeeper scoffed at the unexpected question. “Who would want to dance with a withered-up old woman like me?”

“First of all, you are neither old nor withered,” Mrs. de Winter countered. “And secondly, I would! Very much,” she added with a smile.

“Madam.” Mrs. Danvers was taken aback. “Surely you’ve got better things to do with your time.”

“If my memory serves, I did not get to dance at the ball,” the young woman pointed out reasonably, “so you owe me at least one dance, Mrs. Danvers.”

I can't be seriously considering this, the housekeeper thought as she prepared a polite refusal, but her voice caught in her throat as she took in Mrs. de Winter looking at her expectantly. Her eyes were sparkling with hope, her hand extended in a silent invitation, and Mrs. Danvers felt her resolve evaporate. Suddenly, she couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing Mrs. de Winter today as she had done in the past.

“All right then,” she allowed softly. “Perhaps just this once.”

Mrs. Danvers took the young woman’s outstretched hand with some trepidation, expecting it to feel awkward and ungainly. She became acutely aware of how comfortably their bodies fit together as her free hand rested on Mrs. de Winter’s waist. Mrs. Danvers led instinctively and was relieved to find she still knew her way around a slow dance. Her initial reluctance gave way to a quiet joy as she watched her companion’s eyes gleam with delight. With every step they held each other a little closer, and the housekeeper began feeling light-headed.

The record wound down and their movements slowed, then finally stopped. They stood quietly in a gentle embrace, neither of them willing to break the spell and lose their closeness. In the silence, the air between them became charged with expectation. Mrs. de Winter lifted her eyes to study her companion’s face, finding it transformed from its rigid, severe beauty to looking achingly vulnerable. The young woman was suddenly overcome with a wave of affection so intense, she had to reach out and place her palm against Mrs. Danvers’ cheek.