Authorial Choices in the Core Storytelling Elements: Daphne Du Maurier vs. Danielle Steel

The Effect of Authorial Choices:

Narrative Structure, Diction, Syntax, Rhythm and Tone

   The choices authors make concerning their use of narrative structure, diction, syntax, rhythm and tone is typically influenced by the time period in which the author lived.  Classics, for example, will usually involve the use of complex syntax and diction while contemporary authors are usually more concise and typically informal in their diction and syntax choices.  An author’s choices in diction and syntax directly affect the way the reader experiences the worlds created.   In the classic work, Rebecca, by Daphne Du Maurier, written in 1938 and the contemporary work of Danielle Steel’s The Ghost, written in 1993, both authors used diction and syntax indicative of their times and produced very effective narrative structure, taking the reader from the introduction of the story’s conflict, up to the crisis moment and then to the conflict resolution.

     In her classic work, Rebecca, Du Maurier adopted the first person point of view to form the basis of her narrative structure: “Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again,” (Du Maurier 1).  The reader is introduced to the more formal diction (dreamt versus dreamed) and immediately begins to form those internal questions, “What happened next?  Why did it happen this way?” (Scott 65).  Du Maurier begins to develop a very precise and effective narrative structure, taking the reader on the character’s tumultuous journey as she moves from being a shy, timid young girl to the confident, strong mistress of Manderley .  The reader is introduced to the central conflict of the story at the beginning of Chapter 2: “We can never go back again, that much is certain.  The past is too close behind us…I believe there is a theory that men and women emerge finer and stronger after suffering, and to advance in this or any world, we must endure ordeal by fire.  This we have done in full measure, ironic though it seems” (Du Maurier 5).  Du Maurier skillfully answers the questions Scott proposed as she continues to pull reader into the main character’s chaotic life, keeping the narrative perfectly balanced on a thin line between good and evil.  Du Maurier employees a pattern of suspense that resemble[s] a staircase up until the point of climax, with tension rising and falling at different stages of the story (Scott 68).  The young character arrives at Manderley, a world that it totally foreign to her, and must conquer a series of obstacles left behind by her predecessor, Rebecca, who left some very big shoes that Du Maurier’s main character must now attempt to fill.  It’s the words of Beatrice, her new husband’s sister, that haunt her throughout the majority of the storyline: “You see…you are so very different from Rebecca” (Du Maurier 105).  This statement serves to ignite the narrator’s passion to discover who Rebecca truly was.  Her quest only deepens her feelings of inadequacy.  The tension and momentum continue to rise towards the crisis moment, which presents itself after a single event occurs:  a ship runs aground in the terrible fog.  This leads to the discovery of Rebecca’s small boat resting on the bottom of the bay and to a chain reaction of events, spiraling the reader to the crisis moment: “There never was an accident.  Rebecca was not drowned at all.  I killed her.  I shot Rebecca in the cottage in the cove” (Du Maurier 266).  In a reciprocating admission, the narrator finally tells her husband of the fears that have tortured her since arriving at Manderley and his response frees her at last: “You thought I loved Rebecca?  You thought I killed her, loving her?  I hated her, I tell you” (Du Maurier 271).  In that single moment, the momentum of the story changes as the narrator’s role is shifted from an outsider to someone deeply involved in the outcome of her, and her husband’s future.  The crisis resolution unfolds quickly as the shocking truth about Rebecca comes out and Maxim de Winter is once again absolved of any wrongdoing in his wife’s death.  The story ends rather anticlimactically, with the two main characters returning to their beloved family home, only to find it in flames.

     Upon completing the reading of Rebecca, it is ironic that Du Maurier actually introduces the reader to the resolution at the very beginning of the text as the central conflict of the story.  In short, her narrative weaves through a dark world only to come full circle: “We can never go back again, that much is certain” (Du Maurier 5).

     In her novel, The Ghost, Danielle Steel builds her narrative following the literary conventions typical of her contemporary time period.  Steel’s diction is informal (even in the journals penned in the late 1700’s) and her use of syntax follows the natural patterns of thought and speech that we, as readers in today’s times, find easy to understand and quick to read.  This allows the reader to become deeply immersed in the lives of her characters, quickly expanding on the position that if empathy – the ability to see the world as others see it – is a fundamental human attribute, then the fact that creative writing exploits this attribute is what makes it, also, a unique and fundamental tool with which to make sense of the world (Scott 58).  Steel is a master of using empathy for her characters to drive the reader to follow them through to the end of the story.  She takes modern-day situations that most of us have experienced in one way or another and uses her characters to teach us (possibly) new ways of dealing with it all.

     In The Ghost, Steel introduces us to the conflict right from the start: “And now suddenly, at forty-two, he felt as though all the good times were over.  He had begun the long, slow trip down the other side of the mountain.  For the past year, he had felt as though his life was slowly and steadily unraveling” (Steel 1).  In her unique style, Steel employees rather lengthy narrative as she sets the background for the story.  She effectively tugs at the readers’ heartstrings.  The reader is introduced to the dramatic question in the first chapter when Charlie bares his soul:

     “I can’t live without you, Carole…”  He couldn’t think of a single reason these days to go on living. (Steel 19)

The dramatic question, “How will he go on living without her,” is what drives the narrative with the particular nature of the obstacle and how it is overcome (or not) [being] a key feature of the genre (Scott 63).  In the main character’s search to find a way to move forward, he meets several people who have a tremendous, positive impact on him with perhaps the ghost of Sarah Ferguson topping that list (hence the title, The Ghost).  It is through reading Sarah’s journals of her life back in the late 1700’s, following her lifelong tale of bravery and fearlessness as she learns to live again after escaping a brutal past, that drives Charlie to the realization that he cannot follow her example on his own.  This sudden realization brings Charlie (and the reader) to the crisis moment and he finally reaches out to someone he knows has her own tragic story:

     “And without thinking, he got out of the car and ran after her” (Steel 296).  “Wait!” he shouted as he came up two steps behind her.  “I need to talk to you…I need to talk to someone…” He flung his arms around in despair, as though he were thrashing, and she could see suddenly that he was close to crying” (Steel 298).  

     The resolution quickly follows with both characters understanding that one can truly come out of a tragic situation and learn to live again.  It is that lesson, in my opinion, that is Steel’s true message to us all.  The reader walks away, feeling satisfied and hopefully carrying Steel’s meaning with them.

     Danielle Steel has always been one of my favorite authors but when comparing her contemporary work with the classic work of Du Maurier, I was left feeling that one hundred years from now, Steel’s work will not be considered as classic.  I will put away Steel’s book, saying, “That was nice,” but Du Maurier’s piece will stay in my mind for a long time to come.  Her use of diction, syntax, rhythm and tone in her narrative structure all contributed to Rebecca being placed on the classics list and one that will be read many times in the years to come.

 

 

 

Works Cited

Du Maurier, Daphne. Rebbeca. Avon Books: HarperCollins Publishing. New York. 1971. Print.

Scott; Jeremy. Creative Writing and Stylistics. Palgrave Macmillian. UK. 2013. Print.

Steel, Danielle. The Ghost. Dell Publishing: Random House. New York. 1997. Print.