The Lost Passenger - Frances Quinn

Elinor Coombes escapes her oppressive marriage by boarding the Titanic, but when the ship sinks, she seizes the chance to reinvent her life by letting the world believe she and her son died. Now living under another woman’s identity, she must navigate poverty, protect her child, and keep their dangerous secret from resurfacing.

This is a book about class and misogyny, bravery and resilience, a world‑changing historical event, and the harsh truth behind keeping secrets too big to be kept. I liked it — but I didn’t love it.

Anyone who knows me knows that I’m a massive fan of James Cameron’s Titanic, partly because I’m a little history buff about it, but also because of both its fictional love story and its devastating depiction of the real disaster that occurred on April 14, 1912. (If you’re unfamiliar with this event, I strongly advise doing some research and perhaps watching the film.) But more importantly, I suggest reading this book — and any other that covers the tragic scenes of that night. One: it’s fascinating. Two: you’re in for a truly emotional ride so you’re gaurenteed a bordom free read. Three: it’s a story that should never be forgotten.

In The Lost Passenger, Frances Quinn has spun her own version of that unfortunate night in a simply written prose novel that serves as a gentle reminder of Titanic’s story, sandwiched between the narrative of her character Elinor Coombes — and that story is compelling in its own right. However, Quinn’s writing style was not to my taste. I found it flat, and apart from the extremely short portion of the book that actually covers the Titanic’s sinking — which was disappointing too — it felt uneventful and anticlimactic.

There were some genuinely hair‑raising scenes that bring the narrative together, but she let them down by giving them a lack of excitement, thrill, and real sense of danger. Most things turned out to be fine in the end — initially presented as deeply detrimental but resolved very quickly with zero consequences — leaving many scenes underwhelming. Quinn also relied on a lot of cliché metaphors, similes, personifications, and idioms which were effective but not overly engaging, and this didn’t give the novel much depth — hence me calling it a “simply written prose novel.” And before you come at me, I know it sounds mean, but her writing was pretty basic. It was readable, with a few scenes sprinkled throughout that got me reading quicker, but the prose surrounding said scenes were drawn out and boring. So I wouldn’t say The Lost Passenger is an enthralling read, it’s just a nice read for if you don’t want to rush, and are interested in what life was like back in the early 19th Century.

With that said, Quinn’s knowledge and the research she put into executing this book were excellent. I could tell she cared deeply about the subject she was writing and was passionate about getting it right — creating characters who felt real, and depicting locations as they genuinely were. And I do like a good historical novel — it completely removes you from modern‑day shenanigans and places you in a world you’ll never get to go back to, but one that did, at one time or another, exist. This is, of course, bearing in mind that it’s a realistic historical novel and not, say, a fantasy set hundreds of years ago in a fictional country like Game of Thrones. So, I think Quinn deserves a lot of praise for her handling of that genre. It’s stunning work, honestly.

If you’re a historical‑novel fan, you should absolutely give this one a go — even if it’s solely because you’re interested in the history behind it rather than the story of a headstrong woman navigating a life she hates, all the way through to one that feels foreign to her but so right for reasons I’ll let you decide are justified or not. You may just find yourself in a silent battle with Elinor, but isn’t that what makes a book just that little more capivating?

Even though I say that, and that in itself sounds positive, I’m going to leave this book at a solid three stars. I don’t think I’ll reread it anytime soon, but it was a different kind of escape from what I’m used to, and it offered a good story with strong messages — and in a novel, that’s all I really ask for, for it to be considered good on my book-o-metre. Though, if you prefer more vivid imagery, something a bit more poetic and unique, I wouldn’t pick this up just yet. There are far more historical novels in the ocean; you’ve just got to look — as will I while I embark on my next read!

Do what you will with this one, and enjoy it… it’s lovely, really.

Buy your copy of the book here: https://amzn.eu/d/02toTbcW

Malibu Rising - Taylor Jenkins Reid

Malibu Rising is a historically set family saga that follows the lives of the Riva family. The book spans across one day and focuses on the children of Mick and June Riva, though it flashes back to their own personal lives - where the two meet and fall in love, expressing their hopes and dreams for the future - throughout the story, weaving the aftermath of their reckless choices and purposeful neglect into the outcomes of Nina’s, Jay’s, Hud’s, and Kit’s lives during August 1983. And when secrets start to come out, people finally start showing up, and ineffective apologies get told, the Riva family are left fighting one big disaster that could make or break each and every one of them. Can Mick Riva, the all famous star of the family make amends for what he’s done in the past? Or will his children who live in the shadows of his limelight and the remains of their mother’s harmful mistakes fail to forgive?

I mean…wow. This is my favourite book of the year, or I should probably say so far…there’s plenty to come but this book glued the pages that make up Taylor Jenkins Reid’s story to the palms of my hands so that I couldn’t put it down. Each time I did, I picked it up again not even five minutes later. From beginning to end this family kept me on the edge of my seat, wondering what kind of secrets may or may not crop up throughout the story putting a pause on their lives, just to break their bond that little bit more. And as much as I wanted the Riva’s to live the perfect carefree life, it wouldn’t have been a story if they all had a flawless existence, living happily ever after. It needed every bit of heartbreak, anger, grief, and loneliness to push the plot along; with speckles of love, devotion and affection, to ease the tough moments they had to endure.

         It was shocking and unfeigned at times, and irresistible and warm during others. And for me, a good book makes me feel warm inside yet churns my emotions and tugs them in every direction. Whether I’m full of resentment for what Jenkins-Reid made me read through, or whether I was silently cheering and hoping for Hud and Ashley to stay together because they were just the cutest couple ever, despite the setbacks they knew they’d have to face; I felt it all and experienced every bit of vehemence that the Riva kids felt. I had a lot of love for each character, but they also had flaws that every other person in the world has and that bugged me. But it’s only natural and it’s that which decided how each person was going to live their life, and how damaging those choices were going to be.

         This was truly the perfect novel, probably better for a long summer break rather than a drowsy few days in January, but because it was such a beautifully written story with description (with the opening sentence: “Consciousness seeped into her slowly, as if breaking the morning to her gently”) better than anything I’ve ever seen or come up with myself - much like her novel The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo - it was enthralling, so much so I wish they were all real, living in the world we all live in. Just so I could hear the talent behind Mick Riva’s most dear passion, so that I could support Nina in her struggle to take care of her siblings. Because we all go through it, and to have to witness everything, helpless but knowing that they were clearly a strong group of people, was both gruelling and exciting.

         To know the family is to know the gossip, and we all love a bit of that from time to time. If their story was in the papers, I’d be all over it, but I think Jenkins-Reid did me one better. I got to live through it by reading the delicate chapters of her five star novel. It’s one of her best books yet, and she’s linked almost all of her other novels into it some way or another. And that itself paints this extravagant picture of a world that does exist in reality, it shows us what living with fame and all its beauty and even ugliness is like, yet her version of it is so amazingly imagined and portrayed it doesn’t feel real at all.

         So, if you’ve read her other novels, or enjoy a long story that delves into the complex structure of a family, or simply adore reading about fabled celebrities who struggle to cope with the side effects of being world renowned, then Malibu Rising is the book you’re looking for. It’s fun, a blast, even, and I guarantee you a good time -whoever decides to try it out. It’s totally worth it. Trust me.

Buy your own copy using the link below:

UK: https://amzn.eu/d/e1H4Fxr