Diggin' du Maurier

There's no shortage of books that have been turned into movies. And some of them are good movies—think Capote, American Psycho (only digestible in cinematographic form), Murder on the Orient Express (ha!).

I'm currently at the pointy end of Jamaica Inn, a beyond-excellent novel by Daphne du Maurier of The Birds fame (another great story-turned-film). I saw the movie, also by Hitchcock, who, needless to say, directed The Birds—honestly, what's happened to this sentence?—before I read the book, and loved it. And I assumed, like most films made from books, that it basically told the story of du Maurier's novel.

Not so, oh similarly innocent friend. Not so at all.

According to the Big W, the author herself "was not enamoured" of the movie, and while I love the book, and dug the movie, I can see why. Hitch switched whole, entire characters who play major roles in a plot that, while largely accurate, ends differently than the novel (from what I remember).

These are some pretty major changes. If some director took your story, and switched the responsibilities of characters who ended the thing differently than you'd intended, you'd be a bit miffed too. Like, I imagine, du Maurier, I do wonder why  Hitchcock couldn't have stuck more closely to the novel. Although, speaking to the Canadian recently, I pointed out that the talkies were young when Hitch hit the screen, and Jamaica Inn, the movie, was made in 1939. Hitchcock was an experimenter—who knew what he was thinking?

In any case, both book and film are good. I recommend them to you heartily, as good fodder for stormy nights in any season but summer.