Unlike in the case of The Tenant, Roman Polanski's source material proved to be far inferior to the film here. Even my mother who hates horror and suspense remembers the film, and she got chills when she found out what I was reading. Oh well...

Rosemary is a bit bland and little girl-ish as a character (like Mia Farrow is in the film, but she just had enough charisma so that I wasn't bothered about it), who luckily before the ending starts to show some sort of taking control of the situation. On the other hand, the revelation concerning the baby is a big cliché and kind of ridiculous. Levin's writing style was awkward and sometimes reminded me of a movie script.

Maybe this was due to me having seen the movie, but the naivety and blindness of Rosemary started to annoy me because I already knew the Castevets' secret. The book wasn't particularly creepy even for psychological horror. Levin didn't manage to create any atmosphere, and the monotonically told daily chores mainly just made me yawn. The dream scene and the ending were a small improvement and a nice change to the flatness. It's also always nice and relaxing (yes, for me it's usually that) to read these classic horror novels, even if they don't get to the level of the famous films based on them.