Daphne du Maurier’s novels are moody, haunting, and psychologically suspenseful – making them perfect for autumn reading. So, while thinking about her novels recently, I came up with this ranking of her books. This list reflects my personal preferences and only includes those novels I have read so far – seven in total, excluding her short-stories.
My Cousin Rachel [1951]

“People who mattered could not take the humdrum world. But this was not the world, it was enchantment; and all of it was mine” [Daphne du Maurier, Virago Press, 1951/2003: 117].
It must be jarring not to see Rebecca in the first place, but I have my reasons. My Cousin Rachel finds du Maurier at the peak of her narrative powers. It is a dazzling story of relentless obsession, torments of youth, and endless questioning. I love it the most because it is so nuanced, clever, mysterious and psychologically-intriguing. In the story, Philip Ashley finds himself smitten with the wife of his older cousin, Ambrose, who passed away suddenly in Italy. Rachel presents herself as a woman of much beauty and sophistication, but awestruck Philip finally begins doubting himself, questioning whether he is not falling into the same trap Ambrose did…I love stories about hidden dangers slowly unravelling or characters hiding themselves or pulling strings from behind the scenes, and My Cousin Rachel struck a chord with me like Rebecca, which is perhaps more thrilling, but also more predictable, never did.
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I. Is there a book that you started that you still need to finish by the end of the year?
II. Do you have an autumnal book to transition to the end of the year?
I. Which book, most recently, did you not finish? 
“Each face, each stone, of this venerable monument, is a page of the history, not only of the country, but of the science and the art” (Victor Hugo, The Hunchback of Notre-Dame [1831: 110]).
“He is already part of you. Though you fly to Greece, and never see him again, or forget his very name, George will work in your thoughts till you die. It isn’t possible to love and to part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal”