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Neverland: J.M. Barrie, the Du Mauriers, and the Dark Side of Peter Pan
In his revelatory Neverland, Piers Dudgeon tells the tragic story of J. M. Barrie and the Du Maurier family. Driven by a need to fill the vacuum left by sexual impotence, Barrie sought out George du Maurier, Daphne du Maurier’s grandfather (author of the famed Trilby), who specialized in hypnosis. Barrie’s fascination and obsession with the Du Maurier family is a shocking study of greed and psychological abuse, as we observe Barrie as he applies these lessons in mind control to captivate George’s daughter Sylvia, his son Gerald, as well as their children—who became the inspiration for the Darling family in Barrie’s immortal Peter Pan.
Barrie later altered Sylvia’s will after her death so that he could become the boys’ legal guardian, while pushing several members of the family to nervous breakdown and suicide. Barrie’s compulsion to dominate was so apparent to those around him that D. H. Lawrence once wrote: J. M Barrie has a fatal touch for those he loves. They die.
Barrie later altered Sylvia’s will after her death so that he could become the boys’ legal guardian, while pushing several members of the family to nervous breakdown and suicide. Barrie’s compulsion to dominate was so apparent to those around him that D. H. Lawrence once wrote: J. M Barrie has a fatal touch for those he loves. They die.
352 pages, Hardcover
First published August 5, 2008
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 115 reviews
September 9, 2012
I've never been more captivated by a book I respected less and less as I read each page.
Dudgeon starts with a valid premise, and one that he is not of course the first to write about: that J. M. Barrie manipulated his way into the Davies family, alienated Sylvia, the mother of the famous/notorious boys, from her husband, Arthur, and then, after both parents died, appropriated the boys despite their mother's actual intentions.
Beyond that, he even has some interesting points to make, that seem to be reality-based, about Barrie's methods of, more or less, mind control, and how that related to the Du Maurier family (including George, the author of Trilby and thus creator of Svengali; Sylvia, his daughter; Gerald, his son, an actor whose life was inextricably linked with Barrie's; and of course Daphne, the author of Rebecca). And he's very good on the darkness and morbidity that underlie much of Barrie's writing, on the creepiness of his "sentimentality," and on the grisly unhealthiness of his relationship with the Davies boys.
But beyond *that* the book's methodology is extraordinarily suspect: Dudgeon makes remarkable leaps to remarkable conclusions with the flimsiest of evidence, including whether or not certain of his characters ever met in their entire lives; he presents quoted fiction as if it is utterly undisguised nonfiction; and...well, from that point he can pretty much do whatever he wants, and does.
And once the author drops even the faintest notion of objectivity and makes his personal "I" the loudest voice in the room, the book turns into a free-for-all between sense and lunacy. Lunacy wins.
The final pages, on Daphne's later years, are virtually an acid trip of incomprehensibility.
I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
Dudgeon starts with a valid premise, and one that he is not of course the first to write about: that J. M. Barrie manipulated his way into the Davies family, alienated Sylvia, the mother of the famous/notorious boys, from her husband, Arthur, and then, after both parents died, appropriated the boys despite their mother's actual intentions.
Beyond that, he even has some interesting points to make, that seem to be reality-based, about Barrie's methods of, more or less, mind control, and how that related to the Du Maurier family (including George, the author of Trilby and thus creator of Svengali; Sylvia, his daughter; Gerald, his son, an actor whose life was inextricably linked with Barrie's; and of course Daphne, the author of Rebecca). And he's very good on the darkness and morbidity that underlie much of Barrie's writing, on the creepiness of his "sentimentality," and on the grisly unhealthiness of his relationship with the Davies boys.
But beyond *that* the book's methodology is extraordinarily suspect: Dudgeon makes remarkable leaps to remarkable conclusions with the flimsiest of evidence, including whether or not certain of his characters ever met in their entire lives; he presents quoted fiction as if it is utterly undisguised nonfiction; and...well, from that point he can pretty much do whatever he wants, and does.
And once the author drops even the faintest notion of objectivity and makes his personal "I" the loudest voice in the room, the book turns into a free-for-all between sense and lunacy. Lunacy wins.
The final pages, on Daphne's later years, are virtually an acid trip of incomprehensibility.
I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
December 18, 2009
Ick. This's gotta be one of the least pleasant books I've ever read. from page 1, Dudgeon paints Barrie as the most sinister, predatory, and destructive of men, with few (any?) positive traits, using innuendo and supposition to draw his morbid conclusions.
Honestly, I could not take any of his allegations seriously. (Even captain hook was not this one-dimensionally, irredeemably evil.) I don't know that much about Barrie, and he could very well have been a malevalent little creep, but there's no objectivity here. This whole house of cards is built on speculation and reading between the lines—there's a definite feeling of 'agenda,' titillation, and sensationalistic muckraking, practically from the dustjacket.
It's a creepy, gross little book, and left me wishing I could wash the whole memory of it right out of my brain. I have a hard time thinking of a book I would recommend less, and only wish it was possible to unread it.
Honestly, I could not take any of his allegations seriously. (Even captain hook was not this one-dimensionally, irredeemably evil.) I don't know that much about Barrie, and he could very well have been a malevalent little creep, but there's no objectivity here. This whole house of cards is built on speculation and reading between the lines—there's a definite feeling of 'agenda,' titillation, and sensationalistic muckraking, practically from the dustjacket.
It's a creepy, gross little book, and left me wishing I could wash the whole memory of it right out of my brain. I have a hard time thinking of a book I would recommend less, and only wish it was possible to unread it.
November 18, 2013
The claims Piers Dudgeon makes in this book are so unorthodox that he never actually gets around to summarising them explicitly and concisely, for the very good reason that they would sound so bizarre as to limit the book's readership to the highly eccentric and the extremely open-minded. Well, then, to summarise for him. He claims that George du Maurier while a poor art student in Paris dabbled successfully in hypnotism and brought the fad with him to England where he possibly practiced it on his own daughter Sylvia among others. Although the excesses of hypnotism and quite likely opium ruined his health, they also gave him a sort of transcendental insight into the 'world of imagination' which Dudgeon keeps referring to as the du Maurier family secret which was passed down along the family tree in some more or less supernatural manner either to Sylvia and her sons or else to Daphne the daughter of Gerald. I think Dudgeon is rather shaky here on whether the nature of hypnotism is demonic or beneficial or both. He makes a couple of references to Jung and the collective unconscious but it does not feel like he really figured out the mechanics or the implications. So far, so good. Now, he posits that J. M. Barrie, the future author of Peter Pan, was a psychotic morbidly obsessed with du Maurier and his family, and also with the secret, to which du Maurier apparently referred fairly explicitly in his last, posthumously published novel. Although there is no evidence that George du Maurier and Barrie ever met, Dudgeon thinks they did (and that du Maurier took an immediate dislike to Barrie). After du Maurier's untimely death Barrie allegedly started stalking his grandsons on the Llewelyn Davies side who later famously served as his 'pegs' for characters from Peter Pan. According to Dudgeon, Barrie used his psychotic cunning to engineer several fateful events from his own first acquaintance with the Llewelyn Davies parents to the much later marriage of Daphne du Maurier to Major (later General Sir) Frederick Browning. In some way - again, this is rather obscure because all evidence for the claims is by its very nature circumstantial and mostly limited to ambiguous references in works of fiction by Barrie and Daphne du Maurier - in some way, Barrie 'programmed' the du Maurier children with his nihilistic and cynical world view which led them to much future tragedy and heartache. Among the means he used was possibly hypnosis or some 'hypnotic rituals' (Dudgeon is vague and sensibly brief on this) but almost certainly what Dudgeon calls 'alchemic text', i.e., inserting real people as characters into fictional works and thus predetermining their fates.
This is gripping material and there is no question that numerous oddities and coincidences, mostly tragic, are scattered through the du Mauriers' lives. It is also obvious that much of Barrie's own works and preoccupations are odd to say the least, and that Daphne du Maurier had a famously vivid Gothic imagination which filled her books, especially the short stories, with themes ranging from incest to psychic possession and what not. The parallels to real events are never less than intriguing, sometimes uncanny. Sadly, Dudgeon does not help his case by withholding references for some of the juicier quotations, misrepresenting facts and quoting out of context. E.g., when speaking of Peter Llewelyn Davies's suicide, he says that his wife's and children's tragic diagnoses only came to light after Peter killed himself. In actual fact this does not seem to be the case - i.e., Peter could have had some perfectly legal reasons to be depressed other than the events of his childhood. Or, when quoting Peter Pan to the effect that he forgets people after he kills them - allegedly Barrie's own not-so-veiled confession - Dudgeon tacks this memorable phrase to another bit of text taken from an entirely different section of the book, to make the quote seem relevant. The whole book, retelling piecemeal the lives of Barrie and the du Mauriers, has that feel of information carefully sieved to leave out all the bits that do not fit. As food for thought, this is fascinating and certain to add extra levels of insight to some further reading; but as biography, it's not to be taken without much sceptical re-checking of references. Finally, it should be noted that Dudgeon is an extremely annoying writer who insists on referring to George du Maurier exclusively by his nickname of 'Kicky' throughout the book, and to Barrie as 'Jim'. For readers who are sensitive to this sort of thing it can get pretty nauseating long before the final page.
This is gripping material and there is no question that numerous oddities and coincidences, mostly tragic, are scattered through the du Mauriers' lives. It is also obvious that much of Barrie's own works and preoccupations are odd to say the least, and that Daphne du Maurier had a famously vivid Gothic imagination which filled her books, especially the short stories, with themes ranging from incest to psychic possession and what not. The parallels to real events are never less than intriguing, sometimes uncanny. Sadly, Dudgeon does not help his case by withholding references for some of the juicier quotations, misrepresenting facts and quoting out of context. E.g., when speaking of Peter Llewelyn Davies's suicide, he says that his wife's and children's tragic diagnoses only came to light after Peter killed himself. In actual fact this does not seem to be the case - i.e., Peter could have had some perfectly legal reasons to be depressed other than the events of his childhood. Or, when quoting Peter Pan to the effect that he forgets people after he kills them - allegedly Barrie's own not-so-veiled confession - Dudgeon tacks this memorable phrase to another bit of text taken from an entirely different section of the book, to make the quote seem relevant. The whole book, retelling piecemeal the lives of Barrie and the du Mauriers, has that feel of information carefully sieved to leave out all the bits that do not fit. As food for thought, this is fascinating and certain to add extra levels of insight to some further reading; but as biography, it's not to be taken without much sceptical re-checking of references. Finally, it should be noted that Dudgeon is an extremely annoying writer who insists on referring to George du Maurier exclusively by his nickname of 'Kicky' throughout the book, and to Barrie as 'Jim'. For readers who are sensitive to this sort of thing it can get pretty nauseating long before the final page.
August 13, 2016
I love the story "Peter Pan" and always will. My shelves can attest to it. I always new that J.M. Barrie was a unique character, but I didn't know how unsettling he was. He was one of those people who have to take over and be in charge of everything.
This book tells how he was enamoured of the Du Maurier family and how he influenced George Du Maurier's children and grandchildren. After reading this one will never see Barrie's writings as the same again.
This book also gives a brief insight to many of the inspirations behind Daphne Du Maurier's writing. Daphne has always been one of my favourite writers, and after reading this book I want to read more of her writings and possibly re-read some old favourites.
This book tells how he was enamoured of the Du Maurier family and how he influenced George Du Maurier's children and grandchildren. After reading this one will never see Barrie's writings as the same again.
This book also gives a brief insight to many of the inspirations behind Daphne Du Maurier's writing. Daphne has always been one of my favourite writers, and after reading this book I want to read more of her writings and possibly re-read some old favourites.
March 1, 2011
This book is bizarre. The writer, this Dudgeon fellow, goes far, far out on limbs without a shred of evidence to hold him up. He actually suggests that as a young man, Barrie killed his brother, a scenario Dudgeon freely admits he has zero evidence for. The whole book is speculation of this nature. Daphne du Maurier may have been molested by her father--Dudgeon leads me to believe this is a fact about her life--but I doubt that the molestation happened because the father was somehow under Barrie's influence, as Dudgeon asserts. Also, he takes all the Victorian mumble-jumble about hypnotism and séances too seriously, devoting way too many pages to debunked philosophies and never quite coming to the point. Likewise, he treats the fiction these writers wrote as autobiography without allowing for the possibility that these writers are, you know, making stuff up. On top of all that, "Neverland" is poorly written. The paragraphs are loaded with cliches, mixed metaphors, and awkward syntax. How did it get published? Why am I reading so many bad books in 2011? It's especially disappointing because all these people are fascinating and warrant further reading, particularly Daphne du Maurier, who seems pretty damn cool.
December 6, 2011
I'm not sure quite what to say about this book. Parts of it were fascinating, but I found much of the wild speculation to be hard to swallow, especially with little in the way of sourcing to back the more far-fetched ideas. J.M. Barrie is depicted as a Svengali who manipulates and ultimately destroys the lives of the Llewelyn Davies boys (the real-life models for the Lost Boys of Peter Pan). I can buy that Barrie was a strange person who engaged in some sketchy behaviors. I can also buy that Barrie, Daphne du Maurier, and George du Maurier used a lot of autobiographical background in their writing. It's a stretch, though to start looking for real-life events to correspond to everything they wrote. This book makes it seem like Barrie was responsible for every horrible thing that happened to everyone he knew. Somehow he even gets the blame for Robert Falcon Scott's disastrous polar expedition of 1912! The overall premise is interesting, but without more to back it up this book is just a fantasy as wild as those written by its key subjects.
May 15, 2012
First off, I finished reading this book out of pure altruism: so you won't have to. All right, it's also because I paid for the damned thing. I found it in the bargain bin of my local bookstore and it certainly looked interesting.
And it's not a boring read, it's just a really really really irritating read. I was about a third of the way through when I pulled Andrew Birkin's J.M. Barrie and the Lost Boys out of my shelves to remind myself what a good book on the subject is like. (And seriously, Andrew Birkin's book is what you need if you want a better picture of the truly eerie story of James Barrie and his relationship with the five young Llewellyn-Davies brothers; trust me, Finding Neverland is nowhere near what really happened.)
Then I found myself reading other, totally unrelated books because I was wasting too much time hurling this one across the room.
Finally, I forced myself to finish it and will now try to get Piers Dudgeon's general arguments in a nutshell. This will not be easy because his book swings back and forth like a pendulum, between the DuMaurier family -- particularly Daphne DuMaurier, author of Rebecca and The Birds among many other things, and her grandfather George DuMaurier, creator of Svengali -- and Barrie himself. (Daphne's aunt Sylvia DuMaurier was the mother of the five Llewellyn-Davies brothers.)
Ready? James Barrie, author and playwright and creator of Peter Pan, was Satan.
He used his plays and books as "alchemic texts" to ensnare and mesmerize Sylvia and her vulnerable sons, as well as Daphne DuMaurier and her handsome and shallow father Gerald DuMaurier. This was apparently done by Barrie's imagining what he wanted his targets to become (inspired by the works of George DuMaurier, even though there is no evidence that the two authors met -- although Dudgeon thinks they did and says so repeatedly) and then writing them into his plays and novels, thus gaining power over them: "Theatre-goers lapped up his supernatural plays, but never quite understood why," Dudgeon claims, even though he states in a later chapter that Peter Pan is the one work by Barrie that has endured. Are we to gather by this that only early-twentieth-century audiences were susceptible to Barrie's demonic machinations?
Furthermore, J.M. Barrie was apparently responsible for the deaths of:
his brother David (no actual evidence, but Dudgeon thinks it's likely);
his sister's fiancé (Barrie gave him the horse that threw him);
Captain Robert Scott (Barrie apparently planted the idea in Scott's mind that he was a heroic explorer and dissuaded him from using dogs in his fatal expedition to the South Pole);
Arthur and Sylvia Llewellyn-Davies (who both died of cancer four years apart, but Dudgeon assures us that Daphne DuMaurier killed off Gertrude Lawrence the same way, also by the use of "alchemic texts");
Michael, Peter, and Jack Llewellyn-Davies (possible suicide, definite suicide, ill heath -- but Barrie, by then long-dead, had never liked Jack that much...)
Remarkably, Dudgeon does not seem to blame Barrie for the falling in battle during the First World War of his favourite Llewellyn-Davies brother, George, nor for the demise of his producer Charles Frohman who was on his way back to England at Barrie's request on the Lusitania which was torpedoed by the Germans.
At one point, Dudgeon quotes Daphne DuMaurier's biographer Margaret Forster who criticized Daphne for mixing documentary fact 'in the most awkward fashion with entirely imaginary suppositions, greatly to [the book's]detriment'. That sums up this book perfectly. Go read Birkin's book instead.
Now, I'm going to toss this into the give-away box, but not before marking it up in pencil to warn the unwary. Then I'm going to read something by someone who writes well, has a good editor, and doesn't use speculation instead of research.
And it's not a boring read, it's just a really really really irritating read. I was about a third of the way through when I pulled Andrew Birkin's J.M. Barrie and the Lost Boys out of my shelves to remind myself what a good book on the subject is like. (And seriously, Andrew Birkin's book is what you need if you want a better picture of the truly eerie story of James Barrie and his relationship with the five young Llewellyn-Davies brothers; trust me, Finding Neverland is nowhere near what really happened.)
Then I found myself reading other, totally unrelated books because I was wasting too much time hurling this one across the room.
Finally, I forced myself to finish it and will now try to get Piers Dudgeon's general arguments in a nutshell. This will not be easy because his book swings back and forth like a pendulum, between the DuMaurier family -- particularly Daphne DuMaurier, author of Rebecca and The Birds among many other things, and her grandfather George DuMaurier, creator of Svengali -- and Barrie himself. (Daphne's aunt Sylvia DuMaurier was the mother of the five Llewellyn-Davies brothers.)
Ready? James Barrie, author and playwright and creator of Peter Pan, was Satan.
He used his plays and books as "alchemic texts" to ensnare and mesmerize Sylvia and her vulnerable sons, as well as Daphne DuMaurier and her handsome and shallow father Gerald DuMaurier. This was apparently done by Barrie's imagining what he wanted his targets to become (inspired by the works of George DuMaurier, even though there is no evidence that the two authors met -- although Dudgeon thinks they did and says so repeatedly) and then writing them into his plays and novels, thus gaining power over them: "Theatre-goers lapped up his supernatural plays, but never quite understood why," Dudgeon claims, even though he states in a later chapter that Peter Pan is the one work by Barrie that has endured. Are we to gather by this that only early-twentieth-century audiences were susceptible to Barrie's demonic machinations?
Furthermore, J.M. Barrie was apparently responsible for the deaths of:
his brother David (no actual evidence, but Dudgeon thinks it's likely);
his sister's fiancé (Barrie gave him the horse that threw him);
Captain Robert Scott (Barrie apparently planted the idea in Scott's mind that he was a heroic explorer and dissuaded him from using dogs in his fatal expedition to the South Pole);
Arthur and Sylvia Llewellyn-Davies (who both died of cancer four years apart, but Dudgeon assures us that Daphne DuMaurier killed off Gertrude Lawrence the same way, also by the use of "alchemic texts");
Michael, Peter, and Jack Llewellyn-Davies (possible suicide, definite suicide, ill heath -- but Barrie, by then long-dead, had never liked Jack that much...)
Remarkably, Dudgeon does not seem to blame Barrie for the falling in battle during the First World War of his favourite Llewellyn-Davies brother, George, nor for the demise of his producer Charles Frohman who was on his way back to England at Barrie's request on the Lusitania which was torpedoed by the Germans.
At one point, Dudgeon quotes Daphne DuMaurier's biographer Margaret Forster who criticized Daphne for mixing documentary fact 'in the most awkward fashion with entirely imaginary suppositions, greatly to [the book's]detriment'. That sums up this book perfectly. Go read Birkin's book instead.
Now, I'm going to toss this into the give-away box, but not before marking it up in pencil to warn the unwary. Then I'm going to read something by someone who writes well, has a good editor, and doesn't use speculation instead of research.
November 6, 2009
For anyone intrigued by the world and life of J.M.Barrie, and by the tragic circumstances surrounding his obsession with the family that inspired him to write Peter Pan, this book is a must-read. Dudgeon definitely sees Barrie as a malevolent, manipulative, extraordinarily destructive person, and that surprising approach makes for a wonderful read. Moreover, Dudgeon cleverly brings into the picture the Du Maurier family, which is filled with complex and totally screwed up characters that seem larger than life: it's a brilliant idea, and the intricate tapestry created by the entangled lives of Barrie and the Du Mauriers over many generations is mesmerizing. The darkness of Barrie's character is very much what guides the writer throughout the whole book, and if some of his arguments sound absolutely convincing and make sense (such as the fact that Barrie may actually be directly responsible for the death of his brother, which is at the core of the trauma that changed his life), others sometimes seem far-fetched, and one feels that Dudgeon is trying very hard to prove, in any way he can, that Barrie's ways, and his somehow evil personality, are responsible for all the tragedies that plagued the ones he cast his spell on - including Daphne Du Maurier, the celebrated writer. Still, his point of view is at the very least very interesting, and it does put an unusual light on a much-told story. The whole Barrie-Du Maurier connexion, especially, is fascinating. The dark secrets that come out (hypnosis, manipulations of the mind to gain control, etc) are worthy of a gothic novel, and what Dudgeon says about the ambiguous power of fiction over the lives of some people is absorbing. This book is at the same time the antithesis and the perfect companion to Andrew Birkin's marvellous biography of Barrie.
October 12, 2020
I think this undoubtedly one of the most troubling books I have read. Piers Dudgeon weaves an impeccable tale of three generations of the du Maurier family and the influence of J.M. Barrie and the tragic consequences of this connection.
I came to this book by accident. I was in university and I was reading Peter Pan and my lecturer started the lecture by ‘I don’t believe J.M. Barrie was a paedophile, but…’. You can imagine the reaction. The lecturer spent the next hour battling grumbling students. I was not fazed by the comments. It was a bold claim but there had always been sinister rumours lurking in Neverland. So, I picked up a book I owned at the time: Inventing Wonderland by Jackie Wullschlӓger. This author expanded my understanding of Barrie and Peter Pan. Wullschlӓger talked about the rest of Barrie’s literature. Mainly The Little White Bird. This was also the book my lecturer had been speaking about but that had gone over the heads of the rest of my class. Once they heard, Peter Pan, author, and paedophile, they wanted nothing to do with it. Dudgeon uses this book in his analysis too.
It was a quick google search that drew me to this book. Why was Daphne du Maurier connected to him? A lightbulb clicked. In the musical adaptation of Finding Neverland, a disgruntled Mrs du Maurier appears who disapproves of Barrie and his relationship with her daughter and her grandsons. Another quick google search, Sylvia was a du Maurier by birth and Daphne’s aunt. This book immediately caught my interest.
The book starts with the most recent history. The first chapters set the tone of genuine curiosity. Dudgeon wanted to know more, he even tells his audience, what is being kept a secret? He gets caught up in Peter Llewelyn-Davies and his biography of his family before he tragically killed himself. It leads Dudgeon to go further back and ask interesting questions. The further back he goes, the worse Barrie seems by the time Daphne is helping Peter with the family history called The Morgue. This section also shows how Dudgeon will examine the du Maurier history; using the letters of those in and close to the family.
Some of the reviews of this book seem to be most agitated that Dudgeon claims Barrie killed his brother. I had seen some of these before I read the book and naturally I was dubious. I am still not convinced but Dudgeon makes an exceedingly excellent hypothesis that not only explains some of Barrie’s writings but some of his relationships as well. I won’t go into too much detail, but Dudgeon never says Barrie killed his brother. He does infer that a set of circumstances could have led to the blame being placed on him. Dudgeon is convincing and it doesn’t seem like much of a stretch. The evidence is astounding and may even be possible. It’s a good explanation for something that has been kept quiet and also unexplained.
George du Maurier’s history is interesting, as a young artist in Paris intrigued by hypnotism, Dudgeon paints a clear picture of the du Maurier patriarch. Even clearer is his influence. By the time George dies he leaves behind the legacy of three books, two of which, Dudgeon argues, influence Barrie.
When Dudgeon gets to Sylvia and her boys, he can’t help but paint Barrie as the villain. I don’t think it could be done any differently. Barrie inserted himself into the family and the ripples crashed against the bonds they shared and wore them down. What Dudgeon does best is set up the boys, Nico, Peter and Jack, at the beginning of the book with their own account of their parents’ passing. This makes the account even more troubling. To see it from an outside perspective, already knowing how it affected the boys is hard to read. This period is dominated with first-hand accounts of a friend of the family. She herself had reservations about Barrie.
The possibly worst blow against Barrie is his re-writing of Sylvia’s will. When she dies, he immediately tries to keep the boys isolated. It is when the will is found that he copies it, changes a name (accidently or purposefully) so he can be their legal guardian. Dudgeon himself points out that he could have done it in error, but it is hard reading. The boys become isolated, away from their family, without their parents and years later regret their actions. There is more about Barrie that is questionable but that is a significant example. The romantic story of Finding Neverland is nowhere to be seen. Viewed under any belief, the actions are suspicious.
It is Barrie’s hold over the boys that draws in Daphne who at this point is only mentioned in passing or in relation to the du Maurier inheritance and the ability to dream true – terms coined by Dudgeon that explain the du Maurier talent. A bit of back tracking means we hear of Barrie’s influence over Daphne and the notorious Dear Brutus play that damaged Daphne. Unfortunately, these sections felt rushed. The only criticism of the book is that suddenly so much is happening. So much care is taken to describe George that his granddaughter is shunned to the end of the book. She does have two-hundred pages almost to herself but there still feels like there is so much to be said. With Daphne there was more to be said than just Barrie, she had more going on that was an influence, but it meant that sometimes the Barrie influence seemed like a stretch.
Whereas before, the influence of Barrie and his writings have specifically referred to Sylvia and her boys. The influence over Daphne is different; Barrie becomes part of the establishment. Dudgeon explains how influenced by Barrie Daphne was by highlighting how a Barrie like figure appears in so many of her works and how certain things touched on by Barrie, re appear. It is interesting and I think Dudgeon treats the du Maurier’s fairly. Most of the time we are looking through the eyes of those who knew him. We are just aided by Dudgeon along the way.
Overall, it is a hard book to read. Was it illuminating? Completely, but I feel guilty that even after all this time Barrie still has a hold of them all. The world would be a better place for those left behind if there was never any talk of Barrie’s influence on the du Maurier’s. But that is just part of the problem. No one talked about it then and no one stepped on to stop him. Silence is compliance.
I came to this book by accident. I was in university and I was reading Peter Pan and my lecturer started the lecture by ‘I don’t believe J.M. Barrie was a paedophile, but…’. You can imagine the reaction. The lecturer spent the next hour battling grumbling students. I was not fazed by the comments. It was a bold claim but there had always been sinister rumours lurking in Neverland. So, I picked up a book I owned at the time: Inventing Wonderland by Jackie Wullschlӓger. This author expanded my understanding of Barrie and Peter Pan. Wullschlӓger talked about the rest of Barrie’s literature. Mainly The Little White Bird. This was also the book my lecturer had been speaking about but that had gone over the heads of the rest of my class. Once they heard, Peter Pan, author, and paedophile, they wanted nothing to do with it. Dudgeon uses this book in his analysis too.
It was a quick google search that drew me to this book. Why was Daphne du Maurier connected to him? A lightbulb clicked. In the musical adaptation of Finding Neverland, a disgruntled Mrs du Maurier appears who disapproves of Barrie and his relationship with her daughter and her grandsons. Another quick google search, Sylvia was a du Maurier by birth and Daphne’s aunt. This book immediately caught my interest.
The book starts with the most recent history. The first chapters set the tone of genuine curiosity. Dudgeon wanted to know more, he even tells his audience, what is being kept a secret? He gets caught up in Peter Llewelyn-Davies and his biography of his family before he tragically killed himself. It leads Dudgeon to go further back and ask interesting questions. The further back he goes, the worse Barrie seems by the time Daphne is helping Peter with the family history called The Morgue. This section also shows how Dudgeon will examine the du Maurier history; using the letters of those in and close to the family.
Some of the reviews of this book seem to be most agitated that Dudgeon claims Barrie killed his brother. I had seen some of these before I read the book and naturally I was dubious. I am still not convinced but Dudgeon makes an exceedingly excellent hypothesis that not only explains some of Barrie’s writings but some of his relationships as well. I won’t go into too much detail, but Dudgeon never says Barrie killed his brother. He does infer that a set of circumstances could have led to the blame being placed on him. Dudgeon is convincing and it doesn’t seem like much of a stretch. The evidence is astounding and may even be possible. It’s a good explanation for something that has been kept quiet and also unexplained.
George du Maurier’s history is interesting, as a young artist in Paris intrigued by hypnotism, Dudgeon paints a clear picture of the du Maurier patriarch. Even clearer is his influence. By the time George dies he leaves behind the legacy of three books, two of which, Dudgeon argues, influence Barrie.
When Dudgeon gets to Sylvia and her boys, he can’t help but paint Barrie as the villain. I don’t think it could be done any differently. Barrie inserted himself into the family and the ripples crashed against the bonds they shared and wore them down. What Dudgeon does best is set up the boys, Nico, Peter and Jack, at the beginning of the book with their own account of their parents’ passing. This makes the account even more troubling. To see it from an outside perspective, already knowing how it affected the boys is hard to read. This period is dominated with first-hand accounts of a friend of the family. She herself had reservations about Barrie.
The possibly worst blow against Barrie is his re-writing of Sylvia’s will. When she dies, he immediately tries to keep the boys isolated. It is when the will is found that he copies it, changes a name (accidently or purposefully) so he can be their legal guardian. Dudgeon himself points out that he could have done it in error, but it is hard reading. The boys become isolated, away from their family, without their parents and years later regret their actions. There is more about Barrie that is questionable but that is a significant example. The romantic story of Finding Neverland is nowhere to be seen. Viewed under any belief, the actions are suspicious.
It is Barrie’s hold over the boys that draws in Daphne who at this point is only mentioned in passing or in relation to the du Maurier inheritance and the ability to dream true – terms coined by Dudgeon that explain the du Maurier talent. A bit of back tracking means we hear of Barrie’s influence over Daphne and the notorious Dear Brutus play that damaged Daphne. Unfortunately, these sections felt rushed. The only criticism of the book is that suddenly so much is happening. So much care is taken to describe George that his granddaughter is shunned to the end of the book. She does have two-hundred pages almost to herself but there still feels like there is so much to be said. With Daphne there was more to be said than just Barrie, she had more going on that was an influence, but it meant that sometimes the Barrie influence seemed like a stretch.
Whereas before, the influence of Barrie and his writings have specifically referred to Sylvia and her boys. The influence over Daphne is different; Barrie becomes part of the establishment. Dudgeon explains how influenced by Barrie Daphne was by highlighting how a Barrie like figure appears in so many of her works and how certain things touched on by Barrie, re appear. It is interesting and I think Dudgeon treats the du Maurier’s fairly. Most of the time we are looking through the eyes of those who knew him. We are just aided by Dudgeon along the way.
Overall, it is a hard book to read. Was it illuminating? Completely, but I feel guilty that even after all this time Barrie still has a hold of them all. The world would be a better place for those left behind if there was never any talk of Barrie’s influence on the du Maurier’s. But that is just part of the problem. No one talked about it then and no one stepped on to stop him. Silence is compliance.
January 29, 2024
I disliked this book intensely not because I don't believe there was something creepy about J.M. Barrie and his obsession with the 'Lost Boys' but the book presents itself as if he has uncovered or found 'new' information or evidence - well he hasn't. There is interesting and probably accurate reinterpretation of information already known but vast amounts of speculation and, in the end, flights of unsubstantiated fantasy and this reduces the book to the ranks of the worthless.
Barrie and a huge amount of the way children were brought in general and everything from death, to sex, to emotions are deeply problematic to us now. But that doesn't mean that they were all bad or evil. To look at and understand the past it must be done within context and understanding. Some of what the author says may have relevance but the whole package it is presented in is sloppy and worthless.
Barrie and a huge amount of the way children were brought in general and everything from death, to sex, to emotions are deeply problematic to us now. But that doesn't mean that they were all bad or evil. To look at and understand the past it must be done within context and understanding. Some of what the author says may have relevance but the whole package it is presented in is sloppy and worthless.
October 10, 2012
This felt a bit like in the last book of the Harry Potter series, "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows", where Rita Skeeter writes an unauthorized biography of Albus Dumbledore. Yeah, it felt just as disgusting as that while I read this book, except it was in real life.
It isn't exactly new to suggest writers have problematic lives: many are drunks or drug-addicts (Hunter Thompson, Ernest Hemingway, Tennessee Williams, Edgar Allan Poe, F. Scott Fitzgerald, etc.), many kill themselves (Hunter Thompson, Ernest Hemmingway, Virginia Woolf, John Berryman, Sylvia Plath, Jerzy Kosinski, Richard Brautigan, etc.), because they're loners and odd they usually face constant rejection in real life and even the literary world (Madeline L'Engle, C. S. Lewis, Margaret Mitchell, Rudyard Kipling, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Dr. Suess, George Orwell, Stephen King, etc. I could probably go on forever.). Methinks they're going to have issues. Also, many don't feel comfortable with people their own age, they hang out with children, who are more accepting (Lewis Carroll, alias Reverend Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, J. K. Rowling, and Beatrix Potter). J. M. Barrie is among that last group.
While interesting, this book seems filled to the brim with answers to situations that were pulled together by stretching any facts that were found and using fictional works as honest sources to fill in the rest. It can be said that writers base their work on real life; you can go through the facts of their lives, piece together what they may have been feeling at the time, and then read their work as they supposed wrote them and see if a bit of themselves shine through the writing. But I doubt anyone should take the fictional work as fact. I hope this Dudgeon fellow never attempts a biography of Stephen King, Clive Barker, Neil Gaiman or Shakespeare, for that matter: he might try to convince readers that they had been to the world of fairies and haunted meat locker trains based solely on their writings.
While plausible, I doubt anyone will fully know what happened to Barrie's brother, David. The fact that the author of this book dares to insinuate that his death wasn't an accident, but seems to have been a premeditated murder on the part of Barrie so that his mother would love him more, seems like a stretch.
The author worked with Daphne du Maurier and seemed to have been a friend of hers. But the minute she wanted to keep something secret, he pounced on it, like a vulture. Now it seems that everyone and their dog has written a biography of Ms. du Mauriers, but this guy seems to have gone too far with his 'research' and assumptions. But, also, if this is how this guy treats his recently deceased friends, I hope to God I'm never one of them.
While there are a lot of tragic circumstances surrounding the du Mauriers and Mr. Barrie, I don't think he meant them to be unhappy, much less kill themselves. He kept watch over them and paid for their schooling after their parents died. That doesn't sound like an uncaring Svengali. I think he was an odd, little man who was very lonely. Tragedy happens and life sucks.
If the author had really wanted to state that the boys had had their lives drained from them, I find it odd that the Llewelyn Davies boys that killed themselves were either really young (Michael) where hormones were raging so feelings were muddled and confused as many psychologists would say and he was away from home and he had someone else doing it with him so as to ease the tension and fear and not go it alone, and the other one (Peter) waited until 23 years after Barrie's death to throw himself under a moving train. This theory just doesn't hold muster for me.
In the end, I couldn't finish this book. I got about a fourth of the way through the mire of this muckraker's 'biography'. Maybe some people find trashing a dead man's reputation fun and titillating, but I'm still of the opinion that you have to have actual source material instead of hearsay before you can be published.
It isn't exactly new to suggest writers have problematic lives: many are drunks or drug-addicts (Hunter Thompson, Ernest Hemingway, Tennessee Williams, Edgar Allan Poe, F. Scott Fitzgerald, etc.), many kill themselves (Hunter Thompson, Ernest Hemmingway, Virginia Woolf, John Berryman, Sylvia Plath, Jerzy Kosinski, Richard Brautigan, etc.), because they're loners and odd they usually face constant rejection in real life and even the literary world (Madeline L'Engle, C. S. Lewis, Margaret Mitchell, Rudyard Kipling, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Dr. Suess, George Orwell, Stephen King, etc. I could probably go on forever.). Methinks they're going to have issues. Also, many don't feel comfortable with people their own age, they hang out with children, who are more accepting (Lewis Carroll, alias Reverend Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, J. K. Rowling, and Beatrix Potter). J. M. Barrie is among that last group.
While interesting, this book seems filled to the brim with answers to situations that were pulled together by stretching any facts that were found and using fictional works as honest sources to fill in the rest. It can be said that writers base their work on real life; you can go through the facts of their lives, piece together what they may have been feeling at the time, and then read their work as they supposed wrote them and see if a bit of themselves shine through the writing. But I doubt anyone should take the fictional work as fact. I hope this Dudgeon fellow never attempts a biography of Stephen King, Clive Barker, Neil Gaiman or Shakespeare, for that matter: he might try to convince readers that they had been to the world of fairies and haunted meat locker trains based solely on their writings.
While plausible, I doubt anyone will fully know what happened to Barrie's brother, David. The fact that the author of this book dares to insinuate that his death wasn't an accident, but seems to have been a premeditated murder on the part of Barrie so that his mother would love him more, seems like a stretch.
The author worked with Daphne du Maurier and seemed to have been a friend of hers. But the minute she wanted to keep something secret, he pounced on it, like a vulture. Now it seems that everyone and their dog has written a biography of Ms. du Mauriers, but this guy seems to have gone too far with his 'research' and assumptions. But, also, if this is how this guy treats his recently deceased friends, I hope to God I'm never one of them.
While there are a lot of tragic circumstances surrounding the du Mauriers and Mr. Barrie, I don't think he meant them to be unhappy, much less kill themselves. He kept watch over them and paid for their schooling after their parents died. That doesn't sound like an uncaring Svengali. I think he was an odd, little man who was very lonely. Tragedy happens and life sucks.
If the author had really wanted to state that the boys had had their lives drained from them, I find it odd that the Llewelyn Davies boys that killed themselves were either really young (Michael) where hormones were raging so feelings were muddled and confused as many psychologists would say and he was away from home and he had someone else doing it with him so as to ease the tension and fear and not go it alone, and the other one (Peter) waited until 23 years after Barrie's death to throw himself under a moving train. This theory just doesn't hold muster for me.
In the end, I couldn't finish this book. I got about a fourth of the way through the mire of this muckraker's 'biography'. Maybe some people find trashing a dead man's reputation fun and titillating, but I'm still of the opinion that you have to have actual source material instead of hearsay before you can be published.
November 20, 2009
Very Interesting Suppositions...Many Secrets Are Still Not Revealed
Piers Dudgeon has obviously done his research and clearly has some strong feelings about the kind of influence that JM Barrie had over his 'lost boys' and their cousin Daphne Du Maurier.
I too find the Du Maurier family history fascinating and this book intrigued me. Dudgeon has certainly made some important correlations and offers many insights into why certain events unfolded they way the did for the Llewelyn-Davies and Du Maurier families, many times the reason seems to have been JM Barrie.
This book is not the flattering portrait of a brilliant author, instead Dudgeon paints a dark and frightening picture of a master manipulator who intimidated adults, used children to satisfy his own warped purposes and was fixated on death. The author suggests the reason for Barrie's fascination with death relates to the circumstances surrounding the death of Barrie's brother when he was a child.
If you are a fan of Daphne Du Maurier you will find Dudgeon's analysis of her work very interesting to say the least. Before she died Daphne placed a fifty year moratorium on publication of her adolescent diaries which have been described as 'dangerous, indiscreet and stupid'. What happened in the life of the young Daphne that couldn't be revealed until 2039? We get some ideas from reading Dudgeon's analysis. He has examined the writings of George, Gerald and Daphne Du Maurier and JM Barrie. In addition he includes excerpts from letters and interviews from family members and friends of the Barries, the Llewelyn Davies and the Du Mauriers.
I found it all very, very interesting and I have to say that some of this, no, much of this made my skin crawl. Dudgeon has created a convincing picture of a cunning and ruthless predator who slowly and methodically destroyed Sylvia Llewelyn Davies' marriage and after her death took her children from their family.
I highly recommend this for Du Maurier fans.
Piers Dudgeon has obviously done his research and clearly has some strong feelings about the kind of influence that JM Barrie had over his 'lost boys' and their cousin Daphne Du Maurier.
I too find the Du Maurier family history fascinating and this book intrigued me. Dudgeon has certainly made some important correlations and offers many insights into why certain events unfolded they way the did for the Llewelyn-Davies and Du Maurier families, many times the reason seems to have been JM Barrie.
This book is not the flattering portrait of a brilliant author, instead Dudgeon paints a dark and frightening picture of a master manipulator who intimidated adults, used children to satisfy his own warped purposes and was fixated on death. The author suggests the reason for Barrie's fascination with death relates to the circumstances surrounding the death of Barrie's brother when he was a child.
If you are a fan of Daphne Du Maurier you will find Dudgeon's analysis of her work very interesting to say the least. Before she died Daphne placed a fifty year moratorium on publication of her adolescent diaries which have been described as 'dangerous, indiscreet and stupid'. What happened in the life of the young Daphne that couldn't be revealed until 2039? We get some ideas from reading Dudgeon's analysis. He has examined the writings of George, Gerald and Daphne Du Maurier and JM Barrie. In addition he includes excerpts from letters and interviews from family members and friends of the Barries, the Llewelyn Davies and the Du Mauriers.
I found it all very, very interesting and I have to say that some of this, no, much of this made my skin crawl. Dudgeon has created a convincing picture of a cunning and ruthless predator who slowly and methodically destroyed Sylvia Llewelyn Davies' marriage and after her death took her children from their family.
I highly recommend this for Du Maurier fans.
September 30, 2012
RECIPE FOR MAKING NEVERLAND
In a large pot, mix together the following ingredients.
Bring them to a rolling boil.
1 quart of supposition
2 gallons of speculation
1 large measure of intrigue
1 heaping tablespoon of gossip
Throw in a few strands of dry fact and stir until dissolved. Cover the pot and simmer
until the argument is well reduced. Turn out of the pot, enrobe it in a spooky cover,
and you have this fine froth of a book.
I admit, I like to pick up those sensational magazines at the grocery store check out counter.
The lurid headlines are so catchy. Just so with Neverland, which had me paging along at a
furious pace until I looked around guiltily and put it back on the shelf. No, I lie. I finished it,
but it was heavy sledding once I realized how hopelessly poor Dudgeon's research was. He's
the kind of guy you'd love to gossip with at a party, but you'd discount half of what he says.
In a large pot, mix together the following ingredients.
Bring them to a rolling boil.
1 quart of supposition
2 gallons of speculation
1 large measure of intrigue
1 heaping tablespoon of gossip
Throw in a few strands of dry fact and stir until dissolved. Cover the pot and simmer
until the argument is well reduced. Turn out of the pot, enrobe it in a spooky cover,
and you have this fine froth of a book.
I admit, I like to pick up those sensational magazines at the grocery store check out counter.
The lurid headlines are so catchy. Just so with Neverland, which had me paging along at a
furious pace until I looked around guiltily and put it back on the shelf. No, I lie. I finished it,
but it was heavy sledding once I realized how hopelessly poor Dudgeon's research was. He's
the kind of guy you'd love to gossip with at a party, but you'd discount half of what he says.
January 10, 2010
Interesting, if flawed, and not exactly what I was expecting. There were quite a few connections and ideas expressed here that I had not come across before, specifically the roles of hypnotism and "dreaming true" played in both Barrie's life with the Ll-D boys and with Daphne. Going back farther to explore George du Maurier and his influence (whether incidental or direct) was another new idea. I think the author makes several leaps of supposition throughout, especially later on in discussing Daphne's writing, and certainly seems to want to believe the worst, and is reluctant to delve deeper into Barrie's own mental state except when it underlines the working thesis of a deranged Svengali weilding his influence over two families, bringing them both to near ruin.
July 4, 2015
This book has an intriguing subject matter, but its overall thesis is confused and the structure somewhat rambling - it hints at dark goings on but never really articulates exactly what lies at the heart of it all: references to mesmerism and control, the undeniably tragic events that surrounded the du Mauriers and the Llewelyn Davies boys, never really lead anywhere. The chronology seemed to leap about rather and ideas were floated, then not really followed up. It ended abruptly, and seemingly without conclusion, only that there was "something nasty in the woodshed" without ever really being clear what.
Shelved as 'to-read-library-has'
June 14, 2012From the jacket,
As D.H. Lawrence once wrote: J.M. Barrie has a fatal touch for those he loves. They die.
Shudders.
As D.H. Lawrence once wrote: J.M. Barrie has a fatal touch for those he loves. They die.
Shudders.
March 23, 2021
This is a surprisingly dark and disturbing book, but also fascinating.
In modern culture, controllers and their prey are usually only thought of in terms of sexual predation. Stalking, pedophilia, abusive behavior and the like.
This examines a different type, although just as destructive, perhaps more so.
Research is thorough, and the writing is good.
In modern culture, controllers and their prey are usually only thought of in terms of sexual predation. Stalking, pedophilia, abusive behavior and the like.
This examines a different type, although just as destructive, perhaps more so.
Research is thorough, and the writing is good.
September 4, 2013
I loved this book, although actually not particularly well written and at times repetitious it was an enthralling read, dealing as it does with the malign influence of the diminutive Scots playwright J.M Barrie on the Llewellyn Davies boys and the Du Maurier family, in particular Daphne. Although Dudgeon almost certainly over eggs the pudding in attributing every misfortune in the families to the malign influence of Barrie there are certainly if Dudgeon is to be believed some uncanny coincidences and connections. I found the link between Robert Falcon Scott , the doomed Article explore and Barrie riveting. An exceptionally I teresting read with lots of lovely additional material at the back as a bonus. Off to read a Du Maurier novel now and look out for allusions
March 4, 2014
J. M. Barrie as Satanic manipulator, insinuating himself in the lives of the family of Daphne du Maurier's cousins, the Llewelyn Davieses and ultimately destroying them. Seriously.
The main problem with the book is not as much its general concept (the author is not the first one to recognize Barrie's influence on the Llewelyn Davies boys as dangerous) as the sloppy and unreliable research. Generally, it consists of speculations on top of some more speculations, gossip and sensationalist tone. I was first intrigued, then disappointed and even a little angry: the book seemed so interesting at first sight and turned out so unconvincing.
The main problem with the book is not as much its general concept (the author is not the first one to recognize Barrie's influence on the Llewelyn Davies boys as dangerous) as the sloppy and unreliable research. Generally, it consists of speculations on top of some more speculations, gossip and sensationalist tone. I was first intrigued, then disappointed and even a little angry: the book seemed so interesting at first sight and turned out so unconvincing.
May 16, 2018
This book was on my to-read list before it was even published. I looked so forward to reading it, and was so very disappointed. It's all smoke and mirrors. I'm astonished a work based almost entirely on speculation and supposition could be published and sold as non-fiction. Reading it was like a descent into the dark nightmares of someone on the edge of sanity. I forced myself to finish it, then wished I hadn't. I definitely don't recommend it.
February 3, 2014
I felt like I was reading footnotes taken by a person who was reading biographies of three separate people. It was full of author speculation and phrases such as "one can assume that.." and "it's probable that..." As I was reading I did go back and forth between giving it 2 or 3 stars. I went with 2 because as the book was coming to an end, I found myself getting less and less interested. It did, however, spark my interest enough to seek further reading on my own of Du Maurier novels.
November 3, 2016
Another book on the long enduring story of Peter Pan, and the history of its writing, focusing this time on Daphne Du Maurier, bringing in the Llewelyn-Davies, and vaguely the Cromptons and a an unexpected link to the Buxtons. Quite a good history of Daphne de Maurier's life. J.M. Barrie gets trashed again as a sinister stalker of the Llewelyn-Davies and Du Maurier family to make up for what he considered the morbid character of his own family.
August 22, 2012
This was a fascinating book. I had never read Peter Pan but was a fan of Daphne Du Maurier. It is amazing that one individual, an outsider at that could cause so much damage to one family. Usually this sort of destruction is caused from within. It makes a read of Barrie's writings rather creepy.
January 22, 2013
I hated this book. My favorite book is Peter Pan. This book was so uncontrollably biased against Barrie it made me sick to my stomach. It twisted his bright imagination into something devilish. I DO NOT recommend this book to anyone. I have no respect for the author.
March 28, 2014
I don't think I finished this, it just got too weird. If there's any evidence for the claims that the author makes about Barrie, etc., it's sure not present in this book. A complete waste of time and if Barrie were alive, I'm sure he'd have a good case for slander.
June 24, 2011
An exploration of the world of JM Barrie, the du Mauriers and the "dark side of Neverland"! Fascinatingly suggestive but doesn't quite deliver
June 16, 2013
The book dragged on for me and I found it hard to get through at times.
June 19, 2017
I could not figure out what the dark side was at all. It just seemed odd or made up somehow. And it was just boring..the writing was just obsessive in a way
September 28, 2023
I never knew till now that the Daphne Du Maurier and JM Barrie were related.
I'm actually not sure I really know that now.
That's what's in this book though, but it's a kind of strange book. It had an interesting start but it got rather messy and difficult to read. The book is, well so it says, about the development of 3 major literary characters - Peter Pan, Svengali, and Rebecca. It's really about the Barrie and Du Maurier family and then tries to weave these characters in, with some really dark ideas.
For instance, some very dark stories about the genesis of Peter Pan because of Barrie's background. Now, I can completely imagine that JM Barrie possibly didn't have an ideal childhood (actually I don't know). So this start didn't sound improbable to me but just rather an interesting exploration.
It got weirder though when we got to the Kicky stuff and Svengali and the hypnotism. Also, some minor characters from the family were brought in to fill in this story of a rather dysfunctional family. Perhaps true or perhaps not? But the story gets messy trying to pull Svengali and Peter Pan and hypnotism and so forth together.
My favourite of the three characters from literature is Rebecca but she seems a bit tacked on at the end. Was Daphne like Rebecca? Perhaps she was fascinated by her free and independent life. Trying to tie her in as the demon boy with Peter Pan and Svengali just seemed to be a stretch and didn't really work, nor did it really explore the character of Rebecca or the literary work that much.
The book is an original idea and had some interesting information about a literary family - I don't know how much of it is true or somewhat stretched. However some of the connections are tenuous.
Trying to bring in the Brontes as well also seemed a bit weird (and I had read about Branwell before).
There were several times I had to re-read chapters to ensure I understood what I had read. Other times I felt absolutely compelled by the story even if it felt a bit like a page-turner/pulp magazine with the literary names, because I love Peter Pan, Daphne Du Maurier, and the Bronte Sisters to bits!
It was a bit up and down for me.
I'm actually not sure I really know that now.
That's what's in this book though, but it's a kind of strange book. It had an interesting start but it got rather messy and difficult to read. The book is, well so it says, about the development of 3 major literary characters - Peter Pan, Svengali, and Rebecca. It's really about the Barrie and Du Maurier family and then tries to weave these characters in, with some really dark ideas.
For instance, some very dark stories about the genesis of Peter Pan because of Barrie's background. Now, I can completely imagine that JM Barrie possibly didn't have an ideal childhood (actually I don't know). So this start didn't sound improbable to me but just rather an interesting exploration.
It got weirder though when we got to the Kicky stuff and Svengali and the hypnotism. Also, some minor characters from the family were brought in to fill in this story of a rather dysfunctional family. Perhaps true or perhaps not? But the story gets messy trying to pull Svengali and Peter Pan and hypnotism and so forth together.
My favourite of the three characters from literature is Rebecca but she seems a bit tacked on at the end. Was Daphne like Rebecca? Perhaps she was fascinated by her free and independent life. Trying to tie her in as the demon boy with Peter Pan and Svengali just seemed to be a stretch and didn't really work, nor did it really explore the character of Rebecca or the literary work that much.
The book is an original idea and had some interesting information about a literary family - I don't know how much of it is true or somewhat stretched. However some of the connections are tenuous.
Trying to bring in the Brontes as well also seemed a bit weird (and I had read about Branwell before).
There were several times I had to re-read chapters to ensure I understood what I had read. Other times I felt absolutely compelled by the story even if it felt a bit like a page-turner/pulp magazine with the literary names, because I love Peter Pan, Daphne Du Maurier, and the Bronte Sisters to bits!
It was a bit up and down for me.
February 6, 2024
Well, this work of nonfiction is a real downer for any lover of Peter Pan. I'll certainly never be able to watch Finding Neverland again.
This persuasive piece of biography/literary analysis makes the case of Barrie's evil need to dominate others, especially intent on ruining the lives of the Llewellyn-Davies family. There is a lot more to it, of course, but the revelation of Barrie as a true, sadistic villain is so tragic. It really broke my Peter Pan-lovin' heart.
Granted, even if the claims made in this book are true, we all know that once a piece of literature is put out into the world that author's intent becomes kind of moot. Peter Pan doesn't have to be Barrie's devil boy intent on murder; he can be a gleeful, innocent spirit of youth if we read him so. Still, this book was a disturbing read and might not be palatable for many. It's extremely well-researched, but heavy for the soul. I wouldn't suggest it to others though you cannot deny that it is written with amazing attention to detail.
This persuasive piece of biography/literary analysis makes the case of Barrie's evil need to dominate others, especially intent on ruining the lives of the Llewellyn-Davies family. There is a lot more to it, of course, but the revelation of Barrie as a true, sadistic villain is so tragic. It really broke my Peter Pan-lovin' heart.
Granted, even if the claims made in this book are true, we all know that once a piece of literature is put out into the world that author's intent becomes kind of moot. Peter Pan doesn't have to be Barrie's devil boy intent on murder; he can be a gleeful, innocent spirit of youth if we read him so. Still, this book was a disturbing read and might not be palatable for many. It's extremely well-researched, but heavy for the soul. I wouldn't suggest it to others though you cannot deny that it is written with amazing attention to detail.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 115 reviews