We hope the example of Daphne's family will encourage you to post on this webpage your favourite lines other than the universally well-loved opening to Rebecca. Perhaps you'll be inspired to re-read her books and discover other lines with a special meaning for you.

Virago Press has published almost thirty of Daphne's books in paperback with a delightful hardback edition of Vanishing Cornwall. These have introductions by established authors, some of whom have presented at our Festival and submitted their own favourite lines below.

If you have already REGISTERED as a Member, please use the SUBMIT form to send your favourite lines to us, where they will be reviewed by Ann Willmore.

"Your Favourite Lines" is based on an original idea by Collin Langley.

Avril Horner
Rule Britannia

The cropped white hair, curling at the nape of the neck, gave her the appearance not of a famous beauty and actress who, when she celebrated her eightieth birthday in two weeks' time, would finger nosegays and Interflora tributes with a graceful bow, but of an aged warrior, possibly a Roman legionary, who after long idleness and years of peace lifted up his head and scented battle.
Rule Britannia, Ch.2, p.13, Virago (2004).

Emma glanced nervously at her grandmother. At least she hadn't got her peaked cap on, so she didn't look too much like Mao Tse-tung. Actually, with her white hair brushed upwards like that she looked rather good. Formidable, in fact. On the other hand, it might have been better if she had been dressed to suit her near-eighty years, perhaps in a sensible skirt, and worn a soft cardigan around her shoulders, preferably pale blue, instead of that Robin Hood jerkin with leather sleeves.
Rule Britannia, Ch.3, p.29, Virago (2004).

I've chosen these two extracts from du Maurier's Rule Britannia, published in 1972, because I admire the way she chooses to make her main character, 'Mad', a feisty and unconventional octogenarian, whose behaviour and values challenge every stereotype associated with old age. Regarded by most critics as an odd and often unconvincing novel, Rule Britannia is nevertheless interesting in its anticipation of American imperialism and its attempt to present old age as a positive phase in a woman's life. As I grow older myself, I warm to du Maurier's continual desire to challenge conventional perceptions, whether they relate to sexual identity, gender relations or old age. Aged sixty-five when she published this novel, du Maurier puts something of herself (as well as that of the actress Gladys Cooper) into this redoubtable and energetic older heroine.
Avril Horner.

Avril Horner is Emeritus Professor of English, Kingston University, and co-author (with Sue Zlosnik) of Daphne du Maurier: Writing, Identity and the Gothic Imagination (Macmillan, 1998), as well as several articles on the author and her work. CL.

Freddie Browning
Rule Britannia

'…Anyway it's another day, and life is for living, isn't it? How's Madam?'
'It's her birthday,' said Emma, 'and she's asleep in the basement, or was. We none of us went to bed last night.' She turned to Bevil Summers. 'It's really been rather a strain, but you know how she is, she never let's go. Now Joe and Terry are back all will be well. There, she is awake. What a happy birthday greeting for her.'
Mad was standing at the top of the steps by the porch. She was holding out her arms to both the boys. They were laughing and talking together, they didn't see her. They went straight past her and into the hall. Had they done it on purpose, was it a joke? Mad was still standing there with her arms open, smiling at Emma. Then she wasn't there any more.
'What's the matter?' asked Bevil Summers.
Emma did not answer for a moment. What was it her grandmother had said last night to Andy, on sentry duty at the cellar door? 'We're all together. What a good time to go.' Now it was true - they were all together, for Joe and Terry had come home.
When she spoke her voice was calm. 'I think you had better go down to the basement. Mad has been asleep for a very long time.'
He glanced at her quickly, then ran up the steps into the house, brushing past a small figure at the entrance. Sam came down from the porch, carrying something in his arms. He stood on the path a moment, then lifted his hands.
'I thought I'd let the pigeon go. I had a feeling she wanted to be free.'
The bird didn't fly far, though. She circled a moment, then settled on the branch of an ilex tree overlooking the ploughed field. It wasn't misty any more. The helicopters were still flying eastward into the sun.
Rule Britannia, Ch.22, p.321/2, Virago (2004).

From a personal point of view, I've always found the end of Rule Britannia poignant. Here is Daphne signing off from all those neurotic, tortured, fictional narrators / alto egos, with the bathos of Mad in her dotage. No paranoid air of menace, no gothic gasp of suspense, or ragnorakian burning of Manderley here, just a ghosting away of her loving spirit, surrounded by a virtual phantasm of friends and family, going gently into that good night. This is the way the word {sic} ends, not with a bang but a whimper.
This is the last farewell of Daphne's love affair with fiction, nothing left her now but the memoirs. Freddie Browning.

Freddie Browning is Daphne du Maurier's grandson. CL.