The Scapegoat by Daphne du Maurier

We’re in the last few days of Daphne du Maurier Reading Week, run by Ali, and I am glad I managed to sneak in under the line with The Scapegoat from 1957. I did a poll on Twitter to see whether I should read this, short stories, The Parasites, or I’ll Never Be Young Again, which account for all the unread books I have by her – and I’m glad that this one topped the poll, because it’s rather brilliant. Truth be told, it tied with the short stories – but the people cheering on The Scapegoat were very convincing.

I didn’t know anything at all about it when I started, which was quite an exciting way to read the novel. But I can’t just stop writing then – so read on to have the premise of the novel spoiled. And it really does happen in the first handful of pages.

John is the first-person narrator – he is a university history lecturer from England, visiting France. In Le Mans, he happens upon his doppelgänger. Not just somebody who looks a bit like him, but somebody exactly like him. They even have the same voice, and John’s French is so good that this other man – Jean de Gué – didn’t realise John was English. They start drinking together… and eventually so drunk, or perhaps drugged, that John passes out in Jean’s hotel room.

When John wakes up – Jean has taken all of John’s possessions and gone. He is left with Jean’s clothes, luggage, identity documents – and none of his own. Left with little option, he decides to go to Jean’s house.

If you swallow the far-fetched concept of doppelgängers so identical that nobody at all can tell them apart, then this is a premise rife with possibility. And, look, it isn’t possible. I speak as someone with a literal clone, and very few people would think we were the same person. No matter – let’s go on with the show.

John-as-Jean arrives at his chateau. His earlier attempts to explain what has happened are taken as poor joke, and he takes the path of least resistance. It’s rather an ingenious way to introduce the new cast to us – because John, narrating, is as clueless as the reader as to who they are. There are several women, a child, an older woman, a man. Gradually, he works out how Jean relates to all of them – sussing out the histories and relationships without being able to ask outright. Why does he have bad blood with one of the woman, and apparently secrets with another? Which is his wife??

In their brief encounter, it was clear that Jean was a more ruthless, less pleasant man that John. As he stays there, it becomes increasingly obvious how this had affected things – and how Jean has set John up to be the scapegoat of the title. John is no saint himself – though motivated by much purer morals than his doppelgänger, he is weak and often foolish. And blindingly naive at times. For all that, he is very sympathetic, and du Maurier does a great job of making us feel his frustrations, fear, and dawning attempts to make the best of it.

If Daphne du Maurier had written this twenty years earlier, around the time she was writing Rebecca, this would be a brilliant set-up for something gothic, something in the mould of a thriller. Well, The Scapegoat is not that. It is a much more sophisticated take on the genre, if I can use the word ‘sophisticated’ as a value-free term: I still adore Rebecca; it’s still my favourite of her novels. But The Scapegoat is more of a character piece – after the fantastic premise, everything is believable and even likely. It’s a poignant unfurling of one man’s psyche, while he is similarly on the track of Jean’s. There are dramatic moments, but this isn’t really a dramatic novel. It’s all about personality and relationships and family, and gentle attempts to change things.

It’s also beautifully written. I’ve never seen du Maurier better at the incidental metaphor, descriptions of people and places, and above all subtle and precise descriptions of how John feels and responds.

As I say, Rebecca is still in a league of its own as a complete tour de force – but this is a clever, engaging, and unexpectedly nuance competitor.

28 thoughts on “The Scapegoat by Daphne du Maurier

  • May 15, 2020 at 9:21 pm
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    I’ll Never Be Young Again is one of my absolute favourite novels, I hope you like it!

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    • May 19, 2020 at 9:57 am
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      Next time!

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  • May 15, 2020 at 9:29 pm
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    I was getting shivers reading this, and then realized I’d seen the film that was made of it. As you point out, it’s a bit much to ask that the doppleganger idea be swallowed whole – far more so on film, without her gorgeous writing to distract you!

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    • May 19, 2020 at 9:57 am
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      Yes, she is very good at helping the reader get immersed in an odd premise!

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  • May 15, 2020 at 9:51 pm
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    You convinced me. This will go on my long and growing books to look for.

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    • May 19, 2020 at 9:57 am
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      excellent!

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  • May 16, 2020 at 12:22 am
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    I love impersonation stories, however improbable (and the most improbable I have read in the last few years is The Likeness by Tana French) so this has always been one of my favorite du Mauriers. I read it as a teen then got my book group to read it a couple of years ago. They felt that even an outstanding English speaker would not possess the French idiom mastery to be convincing to Jean’s family but I think she made that part plausible. The premise works much better in a setup like Brat Farrar where the character has been physically gone for years but I don’t object to a little suspension of disbelief if the storytelling is good and the anomalies somewhat explained away. We also argued a lot about the ending. Still, I think the best book group discussion results when no one can put it down even if not universally liked. The writing was admired and many felt it was more effective than Rebecca because more spare although beautifully descriptive of the French setting.

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    • May 19, 2020 at 10:00 am
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      I have one to add to your list, if you haven’t read it! The Return of Alfred by Herbert Jenkins – hard to find a copy of, but I listened to the free audiobook from librivox. Quite silly but good fun.

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  • May 16, 2020 at 1:42 am
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    I read The Scapegoat some years ago when I found it in a B&B library. It put me in mind of Janet Lewis’s The Wife of Martin Guerre, the tale of a man whose physical resemblance enables him to take the place of another, (which was also made into a film?)
    I didn’t have time to think deeply about the book then and my ‘review’ is not worthy of the name, but now I think, DDM must have know about this very famous French story.
    PPS Held up by savouring every word of The Mirror and the Light, I am now half way through The Glass Blowers, but I’m not going to scrape into the official week.

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    • May 19, 2020 at 9:58 am
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      I read that Janet Lewis last year and really liked it, despite my usual aversion to historical fiction!

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  • May 16, 2020 at 3:34 am
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    Of that list that you had to choose from, except for the stories, The Scapegoat was the best choice. I just read I’ll Never Be Young Again and wasn’t really impressed, and I barely remember The Parasite.

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    • May 19, 2020 at 9:56 am
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      Good to know!

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  • May 16, 2020 at 7:32 am
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    I love your review of this novel, particularly the idea that it doesn’t go down the thriller route in spite of the very gothic-sounding set-up. Very intriguing indeed…I’m going to have to read it, aren’t I?

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    • May 19, 2020 at 9:55 am
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      Thanks Jacqui – yes, I think you might have to :D

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  • May 16, 2020 at 10:42 am
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    Yes, even identical twins have their differences. I mean, when they’re really little, they might be really hard to tell apart, but as they grow older…

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    • May 19, 2020 at 9:54 am
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      Yes, Colin and I would not be confused by anyone!

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  • May 16, 2020 at 10:59 am
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    This book has haunted me ever since I first read it as a teenager. I also have to put in a shout for Tana French’s The Likeness, which is an equally brilliant if very different doppelgänger story.

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    • May 19, 2020 at 9:54 am
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      Oo thanks Laura – I heard quite a lot about The Likeness when it first came out and must look it up.

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  • May 16, 2020 at 12:17 pm
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    I have only read the beginning of your review Simon, because I am currently half way through this one, and enjoying it enormously. I can see that you did too. I agree with you about how two people no matter how much they look alike are always different, but I find I can just go with that and move on when it comes to DDM’s writing.

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    • May 19, 2020 at 9:52 am
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      Must go and check out your thoughts!

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  • May 16, 2020 at 3:33 pm
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    I think this will have to be my next DDM read (someday…). So many people love it.

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    • May 19, 2020 at 9:50 am
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      Do! It’s up there with her best.

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  • May 16, 2020 at 3:38 pm
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    I just read this too and really enjoyed it. Suspension of disbelief definitely required at several points — but it rings as emotionally true, and brings up such interesting thoughts about identity, where it is malleable and where it stands firm. Who are we, really? What role do we have in shaping one another? The whole identity of the novel itself (is it a thriller? A romance? A comedy? A tragedy?) shifts as we read, and the conclusion is open-ended, leaving us still wondering. Rather brilliant, indeed.

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    • May 19, 2020 at 9:47 am
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      Absolutely Lory! All put so well.

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  • May 17, 2020 at 11:44 am
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    I’ve always been fascinated by dopelganger stories for some reason, so I will need to try and get hold of this one. The fact that I would need to suspend disbelief wouldn’t disturb me particularly, as I don’t think every story needs to be based in absolute reality in order to have something of value to say.

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    • May 19, 2020 at 9:40 am
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      Heartily agreed, Alyson!

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  • May 18, 2020 at 1:29 am
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    There are quite a few dust-jacket-less volumes on my shelves, too, and usually at first I am a little regretful, partly because of the personality that the jacket bestows on them but also because I long for a little bit of an idea about the story. But, then, as happened for you with this volume, I usually find myself unexpectedly swept away by what I find between the covers; I wonder if maybe blurbing and the descriptions get in the way of enjoyment, because we start to overwrite our expectations as soon as we know very much about the plot? So glad you had fun with this one and still have a couple of options for another DDM event too!

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    • May 19, 2020 at 9:38 am
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      Yes, with new books you never get that experience of diving in without knowing anything at all about a book! Not even a cover image to direct the response.

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