Silver Linings Cray-Cray Book

Find yourself a sulky widower who'll pat you on the head, call you a little fool and propose after a week. Sure, he may have murdered his first wife, but look at that pomade job. 

There are of course always two sides to a story, but there is no doubt that for my two mates, life is intrinsically bound to and dramatically affected by the moods, emotions and communication styles of their partners’ former partners, which made me think about the notion of being in a relationship where the ex-wife is still very much present.

In Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, the unnamed, penniless narrator is swept off her feet and marries the rich widower Maxim de Winter. All seems promising when she moves to his grand estate, but once the honeymoon is over, she realizes she is walking in the ghostly footsteps of the mansion’s former mistress, the inconceivably gorgeous Rebecca. The narrator is not exactly radiating confidence to begin with, so being constantly reminded of the wonder that was the first wife doesn’t exactly help, and it quickly drives a wedge between herself and her new hubby. And this is the problem my friends have in common with the second Mrs. de Winter: A past partner causing havoc in a present relationship. 

Now, Maxine and Winny’s boyfriends are not widowers; their ex-wives are both very much alive and highly present in inboxes, voice mails and nightmares, and while in their darkest hours, my friends may wish that these women were ten feet under, Rebecca hints that a living ex may be infinitely easier to deal with than a dead wife. 

In the novel, the narrator’s imagination has free reign to construct a perfect predecessor, helped along by the housekeeper and Rebecca’s main cheerleader, Mrs. Danvers, whose main goal is to subtly push the new wife to suicide by fanning the fire of her insecurities so Danvers can be alone with the unrivaled memory of her beloved mistress. The fact that Rebecca is dead is what enables the (as it turns out, false) notion that the narrator is but a mousy consolation prize and unworldly disappointment to Maxim, a man who doesn’t get any points for communication either by the way.  

So what am I actually trying to do here? Why, point out the silver lining, of course, and remind you that you should cherish your partner’s ex, no matter how god-awful she seems. Appreciate her blowing up your man’s inbox with accusations of neglect for getting their child the wrong brand of organic pear smoothie, and relish in seeing her name light up his phone display just as you sat down to watch Squid Game. Be thankful that you get to witness first hand why they are no longer together and how lucky he is to have you.  A living nightmare is easier to vanquish than a ghost. 

Mrs. Danvers could teach a course on how to talk people ONTO the ledge.

Another positive aspect is that, despite some highly combative and conflict-seeking exes, Maxine and Winny's beaus have not turned bitter, which is typically not a great look. Just look at (and listen to) Wagner's The Flying Dutchman (the Dutchman is actually a ghost –FULL CIRCLE!) where the eponymous sailor is cursed to roam the seven seas until he can find a good woman. This is apparently harder than finding a white CIS man at an equal pay rally, so even when the opera's female lead, Senta, who is actually obsessed with catching that dead pirate D for all eternity, fully commits to him, he finds some excuse to suspect that she's a lying, faithless shrew like the rest of 'em. So she does the only rational thing and proves her love by throwing herself to her death (Mrs. Danvers' favorite part, I'm sure.)