The Paris Express
Anyone who has ever had the joy of riding a steam locomotive passenger train will love Emma Donoghue’s latest novel about the express train from Granville to Paris-Montparnasse on October 22, 1895. Donoghue is a credited master storyteller and excels at delving into the inner minds of her characters, as she exhibited so well in Haven and Room. Backstories meld with current narratives, and individual interactions and agendas intertwine during the hours the
passengers are necessarily forced together. Told in present tense, the story of locomotive Engine 721 is a powerful experience—the hiss of the grey-white steam, the pungent reek of burning coal, pistons clackety-clacking their hypnotic cadence, countryside there and gone in a head-turning flash—all described to evoke maximum emotional impact.
Driver Guillaume Pellerin, stoker Victor Garnier, and two guards put 721’s sleek precision through its paces, creating an autonomous collaboration of man and machine. Various passengers board and disembark at the few stops, but most are in for the long haul to Montparnasse—the socially conscious Russian émigré, Blonska; Mado Pelletier, a radical 20-year-old cross-dressing feminist; the Arab coffee-seller; and seven-year-old Maurice, riding alone for the first time. We find ourselves amongst notable figures of the time that Donoghue has invited to board her train: American painter Henry Tanner; Irish folklore collector John Synge; and industrialist Emile Levassor. But the most notable character of all, Engine 721, oversees her passengers and makes up precious minutes where she can.
The Paris Express is a taut read. Time and speed are used with maximum effect to extend plot tension, but readers who like to check the historical notes first are advised not to. Allow the story to unfold on the pages as the author has written it, and it will be even more compelling.
