Daphne du Maurier (Magill's Literary Annual 1991-2005)
As the author of four previous biographical works, Margaret Forster is no stranger to research. When she undertook a biography of Daphne du Maurier, however, she found herself in a unique situation. On one hand, there was no dearth of documents or of recollections about the writer, and her children, who held much of the source material, had expressed their intention of cooperating in every way on what was meant to be the official biography of their mother. On the other hand, as her research proceeded, Forster began to make some discoveries that she realized might well disturb du Maurier’s family, in particular accounts of her lesbian involvements. Fortunately, as the acknowledgments indicate, du Maurier, who herself had written several biographies, had made her opinions on the subject quite clear. While she did not wish to see her own biography published during her lifetime, she felt very strongly that such works were worthless unless they were totally truthful. By allowing Forster to see and to use all the source materials in their possession, du Maurier’s children made it possible for her to turn out a book that meets their mother’s high standards.
When she subtitled her volume The Secret Life of the Renowned Storyteller, the biographer indicated what she sees as the central truth of Daphne du Maurier’s life:
that she habitually concealed her real identity by assuming the personality that others expected or demanded. As a result, du Maurier’s fiction became not only a way to achieve financial independence but also, by admitting her to the only world in which she could feel perfectly free, a necessity of her existence.
Du Maurier’s problem with identity had its source early in her childhood. She was born on May 12, 1907, the second daughter of the highly successful actor Gerald du Maurier and his wife, Muriel Beaumont du Maurier, a former actress. Of the du Mauriers’ three girls, Daphne was the one most like Gerald and, perhaps for that reason, most troubled by her father’s desire for a son. Forster quotes a poem that Gerald du Maurier wrote for Daphne in which he expresses his love for her but reiterates his belief that she should have been a boy, whether to fulfill his needs or to realize her true nature is not clear. In a theatrical family, it was perhaps not surprising that an imaginative little girl would invent an alternate identity for herself, dressing as a boy and pretending that she was the daring “Eric Avon” instead of the pretty and feminine Daphne.
Certainly in her adolescence Daphne du Maurier behaved like a girl, falling violently and obviously in love with a married thirty-six-year-old cousin. Forster points out, however, that Daphne continued to think of herself as a boy in a girl’s body. These feelings, Forster suggests, may have been more than a wish to please her father; they may also have been Daphne’s response to her father’s well-known infidelities, which were one more example of the freedom afforded to men and denied to women. At any rate, when at eighteen Daphne was sent to school in France, she soon found herself attached to Fernande “Ferdy” Yvon, a lesbian teacher. In letters to her former governess describing Ferdy’s advances to her, what Daphne seemed most concerned about was her own responsiveness. She could not imagine having her homophobic father discover that she was a lesbian, or a “Venetian,” in the term used by the family. Moreover, Daphne was convinced that any woman who desired another woman must in fact be a man in a woman’s body, as she feared was the case with her. Breaking off her physical intimacy, though not her friendship, with Ferdy, Daphne now limited herself to heterosexual relationships. She also found some release for her frustrations by throwing herself into full-time writing. In 1931, when her first novel was published, she had the satisfaction of seeing it become a bestseller.
Having established a firm basis for her theory about the nature of du Maurier’s inner conflicts, Forster can offer new insights into her works. It is significant, for example, that the protagonist of du Maurier’s first novel, The Loving Spirit (1931), often bemoans the fact that she was born a woman, not a man, and hopes after her death somehow to live on through her beloved son. In the realistic novel that followed, I’ll Never Be Young Again (1932), the author explores sexual passion through the eyes of her protagonist, who is a male. The autobiographical implications of du Maurier’s third novel are also unmistakable. In The Progress of Julius (1933), a self-made millionaire adores his daughter to the point of nearly suffocating her, and finally strangles her rather than let any other man take his place in her life. In her examination of the rough drafts of this novel, Forster found that du Maurier had initially modeled...
(The entire section is 1995 words.)
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Daphne du Maurier (Magill Book Reviews)
DAPHNE DU MAURIER is the first biography of the author of REBECCA (1938) to be based on a full range of source materials. Writing with the cooperation of du Maurier’s family, Margaret Forster tells the story of this famous writer, who managed to conceal her uncertainties about her own identity from all except her closest friends.
Aware that her father would have preferred her to be a son, during her formative years Daphne du Maurier became convinced that she was in fact a boy in a girl’s body. However, after a brief involvement with a lesbian schoolteacher, du Maurier repressed her wayward impulses, married a handsome army major, and became the mother of three children. Meanwhile, she had found in writing an outlet for her fantasies, and with the publication of REBECCA in 1938, du Maurier became financially independent.
Although to outsiders Daphne du Maurier’s life seemed rosy, Forster reveals such evidence of conflict as her coldness toward her daughters, her resentment of her husband’s habit of command, and, after her intimacy with him ended, her involvement with the actress Gertrude Lawrence, whose death left du Maurier shattered. During her later years, du Maurier dealt bravely with adversity, remaining with her ailing husband until his death and continuing to practice her craft despite her awareness that her creative powers had dwindled.
Based on the insights she has derived from her research, Forster finds new implications in many of du Maurier’s novels. Perhaps even more important, however, is her appreciation of du Maurier herself, as a person of integrity, nobility, and dedication to her art.
Sources for Further Study
Booklist. XC, October 1, 1993, p.246.
Boston Globe. October 3, 1993, p.38.
Library Journal. CXVIII, November 1, 1993, p.92.
The New York Times Book Review. XCVIII, October 17, 1993, p.37.
The New Yorker. LXIX, November 8, 1993, p. 127.
The Observer. March 28, 1993, p.61.
Publishers Weekly. CCXL, September 13, 1993, p. 114.
Sight and Sound. III, June, 1993, p.45.
The Times Literary Supplement. April 9, 1993, p.23.
The Washington Post Book World. XXIII, October 3, 1993, p.3.