Dawn at Granville Station

On a chilly October morning in 1895, the Normandy town of Granville stirs as the Paris Express prepares for departure. Mado Pelletier, a determined young woman with a secret, stands outside the station, wrestling with her resolve. Around her, a mosaic of passengers—children, workers, the privileged, and the overlooked—gather, each carrying their own burdens and hopes. The station's clocks, set five minutes behind, symbolize the subtle manipulations of time and fate that will shape the day. The train's crew, from the seasoned driver to the ambitious guards, ready themselves for the journey, unaware that this ordinary day will become extraordinary. The sea's wildness lingers in Mado's mind, echoing her own inner turbulence as she finally boards, setting the story in motion.

Passengers and Secrets Board

As the train fills, we meet a cross-section of late 19th-century France: Maurice, a young boy traveling alone; Blonska, a Russian émigrée with a sharp mind and aching body; Marcelle, a medical student of color; Henry, an American painter; and Alice, a pioneering secretary with cinematic dreams. Each is shaped by their era's constraints—class, gender, race, and ambition. The train's compartments become microcosms of society, where strangers' lives brush against one another. Some seek escape, others opportunity, and a few, like Mado, carry intentions that could shatter the fragile peace. The Paris Express, a marvel of modernity, is both a vessel of progress and a stage for hidden dramas, as secrets and desires simmer beneath the surface.

The Paris Express Departs

With a whistle and a surge of steam, the Paris Express leaves Granville, slicing through the French countryside. The train's movement is mirrored by the restless minds within: Mado clutches her lunch bucket, her resolve hardening; Blonska reflects on charity and fate; Henry ponders art and belonging; Marcelle steels herself against prejudice. The crew, proud of their machine, focus on punctuality and safety, yet the specter of disaster lingers. The train's rhythm lulls some into reverie, while others, like Mado, remain taut with purpose. The journey's early hours are filled with small interactions—glances, conversations, and the subtle shifting of alliances—that foreshadow the collision of lives and ideals to come.

Lives in Motion

As the Express speeds east, the narrative dives into the inner worlds of its passengers. Marcelle navigates the expectations of her family and her own ambitions, while Henry wrestles with memories of racial exclusion and artistic longing. Blonska, ever the helper, observes and aids those around her, masking her own vulnerabilities. Mado's internal monologue reveals a lifetime of poverty, loss, and radicalization, her anger sharpened by injustice. The train's compartments become confessionals, where strangers share stories, prejudices, and fleeting moments of connection. The relentless forward motion of the train mirrors the inescapable passage of time, propelling each character toward their fate.

Class Divides and Encounters

The rigid social hierarchy of the train—First, Second, and Third Class—reflects the broader inequities of French society. Yet, as the journey progresses, these boundaries are tested. Marcelle, seeking solitude, moves between classes; Henry, wary of prejudice, finds unexpected kinship; Alice, ambitious and underestimated, challenges her boss's assumptions. In Third Class, the struggles of the working poor are laid bare, from the pregnant Cécile to the laborers and maids. Mado's revolutionary fervor is fueled by these injustices, her resolve to act growing with each passing mile. The train becomes a crucible, where class, gender, and race collide, and where empathy and suspicion coexist uneasily.

The Anarchist's Burden

Mado's secret is revealed: her lunch bucket contains a homemade bomb, intended to strike a blow against the powerful and privileged. Her plan is both personal and political, born of a lifetime of suffering and inspired by the martyrs of anarchism. Yet, as she waits for the perfect moment—hoping to target members of parliament—she is haunted by doubt and the humanity of those around her. Blonska, sensing something amiss, becomes both a potential threat and a silent witness. The tension mounts as Mado's internal struggle intensifies: can one act of violence truly change the world, or will it only perpetuate the cycle of suffering?

Halt at Vire: Shifting Fates

At Vire, the train halts, and the cast of characters subtly shifts. Passengers disembark and board, including Alice and her boss, whose professional and personal boundaries blur. Mado maneuvers closer to First Class, seeking proximity to her intended targets. The guards juggle logistics and egos, while the crew's camaraderie is tested by the pressures of schedule and safety. The stop is brief, but it marks a turning point: the train is now more crowded, the air thick with anticipation and unspoken fears. The journey's stakes are raised, and the sense of impending crisis deepens.

New Passengers, New Tensions

At Briouze, a private carriage is attached for Deputy Christophle and his ailing wife, symbolizing the privileges of power. The train's schedule slips, and the crew's anxiety grows. In First Class, political and personal intrigues unfold among the deputies, industrialists, and their families. Affairs, ambitions, and anxieties simmer beneath polite conversation. Meanwhile, in Third Class, Mado's proximity to her targets heightens her sense of destiny, even as the humanity of her fellow passengers complicates her resolve. The train, now a patchwork of stories and secrets, hurtles toward Paris with increasing speed and tension.

The Private Carriage Joins

The addition of the Christophle carriage brings new dynamics: the frailty of Anna Christophle contrasts with her husband's political power and hidden desires. The deputies in First Class debate the state of the nation, labor unrest, and the threat of anarchism, oblivious to the danger so close at hand. In Second and Third Class, the struggles of ordinary people—illness, poverty, longing—are thrown into sharp relief. The train's physical structure, with its compartments and barriers, mirrors the emotional and social distances between its occupants, even as fate draws them inexorably together.

Conversations and Confessions

As the Express nears Paris, conversations deepen. Marcelle and Henry share their experiences of prejudice and ambition, finding solace in each other's company. Alice pitches her vision of moving pictures, challenging the limits of her era's imagination. Blonska and Mado debate charity, revolution, and the meaning of fate, their exchange a microcosm of the era's ideological battles. In Third Class, a birth begins, echoing the themes of renewal and vulnerability. The train becomes a space of confession and confrontation, where the boundaries between self and other, past and future, blur.

The Bomb in the Bucket

As the train approaches Dreux, Mado's internal conflict reaches its peak. The birth in her carriage becomes a metaphor for hope and pain, forcing her to confront the value of individual lives. Blonska, realizing the truth about the bomb, is paralyzed by fear and empathy, unable to act but unwilling to condemn. The train's momentum becomes a metaphor for fate: unstoppable, indifferent, and fraught with peril. The crew, focused on making up lost time, are unaware of the disaster brewing within and without. The stage is set for catastrophe, with every character poised on the edge of transformation or destruction.

Birth, Death, and Destiny

In the final stretch, the birth in Third Class becomes a focal point, drawing the attention and compassion of even the most hardened passengers. Mado, called upon to help, is forced to set aside her bomb and assist in bringing new life into the world. The act of midwifery becomes an act of redemption, disrupting her plan for violence and forcing her to reckon with her own humanity. The train, now racing dangerously fast toward Paris, is a crucible where destinies are forged and unmade. The boundaries between victim and perpetrator, hope and despair, blur in the face of imminent disaster.

Dreux: Decisions and Delays

At Dreux, the train is further delayed, and the crew debates whether to risk speeding to make up lost time. Passengers disembark and reboard, carrying with them the weight of their choices and fears. Marcelle and Louise Sarazin-Levassor reconcile, sharing the burden of a possible diagnosis for Jeanne. Christophle, seeking illicit pleasure, narrowly avoids missing the train. Mado, her resolve shaken by the birth she has helped with, faces a moment of reckoning. The train, now behind schedule and burdened with secrets, gathers itself for the final, fateful run into Paris.

Racing Toward Paris

With the crew determined to make up lost time, the Express accelerates dangerously as it nears the city. The passengers, exhausted and anxious, sense the mounting tension. In First Class, the privileged debate progress and mortality; in Third, the aftermath of birth and the specter of death intermingle. Mado, her bomb now an afterthought, is consumed by shame and relief. The city's outskirts flash by, a blur of poverty and promise. The train, a symbol of modernity and hubris, is now a runaway force, its fate sealed by a series of small, human errors and the inexorable laws of physics.

The Final Approach

As the Express barrels into Montparnasse, the crew realizes too late that the brakes have failed. Panic spreads through the carriages as passengers brace for impact. In First Class, the industrialists and deputies confront their mortality; in Third, the new mother clings to her child. Mado, her bomb forgotten, is swept up in the collective terror and hope. The train, unable to stop, smashes through the buffers, bursts through the station wall, and crashes into the square below. In a moment, lives are upended, and history is made.

Catastrophe at Montparnasse

The crash is both sudden and surreal: the engine dangles from the station's façade, smoke and debris filling the air. Miraculously, most passengers and crew survive with minor injuries, but a single life—Marie, the newspaper seller in the square below—is lost. The aftermath is a tableau of shock, relief, and grief. Mado, her bomb never detonated, is left to grapple with the meaning of her aborted act. The survivors, dazed and transformed, emerge into a changed world, their stories forever linked by disaster.

Aftermath and Reckoning

In the wake of the crash, the characters confront the consequences of their choices and the randomness of survival. Mado discards her bomb, choosing life over martyrdom. Marcelle and Henry part, changed by their encounter. The crew, bruised but alive, face inquiries and guilt. The privileged and the poor alike are humbled by the fragility of existence. The city absorbs the shock, and the world moves on, but for those on the Paris Express, nothing will ever be the same. The photograph of the wreck becomes an icon, capturing a moment when time, fate, and human error collided.

The Photograph and the Future

A young photographer captures the aftermath, his image destined to outlast the event itself. The photograph, stripped of context and complexity, becomes a symbol of modernity's perils and possibilities. The survivors disperse, carrying with them scars, lessons, and new beginnings. The train is repaired, the station rebuilt, and life resumes, but the memory of that day lingers—a testament to the unpredictability of fate, the limits of control, and the enduring power of human connection and resilience.

Characters

Mado Pelletier

Mado is a young, working-class Parisian woman, hardened by poverty, loss, and the relentless injustices of her world. Rejecting traditional femininity and marriage, she adopts a masculine style and radical politics, inspired by anarchist martyrs. Her plan to bomb the Paris Express is both a personal and political act—a desperate attempt to strike at the powerful and avenge the suffering of the poor. Yet, beneath her anger lies vulnerability and a longing for meaning. Her encounter with birth and the humanity of her fellow passengers forces her to confront the limits of violence and the possibility of redemption. Mado's journey is one of self-discovery, as she moves from vengeance to reluctant compassion, ultimately choosing life over destruction.

Blonska

Blonska is a sixty-year-old Russian émigrée, bent and frail but fiercely intelligent and independent. A lifelong skeptic, she has seen revolutions come and go, and now devotes herself to practical charity among Paris's poor. Her sharp wit and clear-eyed realism make her both a confidante and a challenger to those around her. Blonska's encounter with Mado's radicalism stirs memories of her own youthful idealism and the dangers of fanaticism. When she suspects Mado's intentions, she is paralyzed by fear and empathy, unable to act but unwilling to condemn. Blonska embodies the tension between hope and resignation, action and inaction, and the enduring struggle to do good in an imperfect world.

Marcelle de Heredia

Marcelle is a young woman of color, daughter of a Cuban politician and a French mother, striving to become a physiologist in a society that doubts her at every turn. Intelligent, disciplined, and quietly proud, she navigates the prejudices of her era with determination. Her interactions with Henry Tanner and the Levassor family reveal her empathy and her struggle to balance ambition with compassion. Marcelle's scientific curiosity is rooted in personal loss, and her willingness to speak uncomfortable truths marks her as both courageous and vulnerable. Her journey is one of self-assertion, as she claims her place in a world that would exclude her.

Henry Ossawa Tanner

Henry is an African-American painter, sensitive and introspective, who has come to France to escape the racism of his homeland and pursue his art. Haunted by memories of exclusion and the expectations of his family, he finds both solace and anxiety in the anonymity of the Paris Express. His connection with Marcelle offers a rare moment of understanding and acceptance. Henry's internal struggles mirror the broader themes of identity, ambition, and the search for home. His journey is one of quiet resilience, as he learns to claim his space and voice in a world that often denies both.

Alice Guy

Alice is a young secretary with a passion for storytelling and a vision for the future of cinema. Intelligent, resourceful, and ambitious, she navigates the constraints of her gender and class with wit and determination. Her interactions with her boss, Gaumont, reveal both the limitations and possibilities of her era. Alice's desire to create moving pictures is emblematic of the novel's fascination with progress, technology, and the power of narrative. Her journey is one of self-assertion, as she insists on her right to imagine, create, and be heard.

Guillaume Pellerin & Victor Garnier

Guillaume, the driver, and Victor, the stoker, are the heart of the train's crew. Their partnership is forged in the crucible of hard labor, mutual respect, and unspoken affection. Both are family men, yet their bond on the footplate is intimate and essential. They take pride in their work, balancing the demands of speed, safety, and economy. As the journey progresses and disaster looms, their professionalism and humanity are tested. Their story is one of loyalty, sacrifice, and the quiet heroism of ordinary men.

Léon Mariette & Jean Le Goff

Léon, the senior guard, is meticulous, responsible, and haunted by the weight of his duties. Jean, the junior guard, is younger, more relaxed, and eager for tips. Together, they represent the bureaucracy and discipline of the railway system, as well as its vulnerabilities. Their actions and inactions play a crucial role in the unfolding disaster. Léon's sense of responsibility and Jean's pragmatism are both strengths and weaknesses, highlighting the limits of human control in the face of fate.

Louise Sarazin-Levassor & Family

Louise, her husband Émile, and her daughter Jeanne represent the upper echelons of French society. Their wealth and status afford them comfort and opportunity, but not immunity from suffering. Jeanne's mysterious illness becomes a focal point for anxiety and compassion, while Louise's maternal love is both a source of strength and pain. Their interactions with Marcelle and others reveal the complexities of privilege, prejudice, and empathy. The family's journey is one of reckoning with mortality and the limits of control.

Albert Christophle & Anna

Deputy Christophle, a politician and banker, embodies the authority and entitlement of the elite. His ailing wife, Anna, is both a symbol of vulnerability and a reminder of the costs of privilege. Christophle's secret desires and Anna's frailty expose the cracks in their carefully constructed world. Their private carriage is both a sanctuary and a prison, isolating them from the realities faced by others on the train. Their story is one of denial, longing, and the ultimate impotence of power in the face of fate.

Plot Devices

The Train as Microcosm

The Paris Express serves as a microcosm of late 19th-century France, bringing together a cross-section of society—rich and poor, native and foreign, radical and conservative. The train's compartments, classes, and routines mirror the era's social hierarchies and tensions. The physical movement of the train parallels the emotional and ideological journeys of its passengers, while the relentless forward motion symbolizes the inescapable passage of time and fate. The train's eventual derailment is both a literal and metaphorical collision of lives, ideals, and historical forces.

Foreshadowing and Dramatic Irony

From the opening pages, the narrative is laced with foreshadowing: the clocks set behind, the references to past accidents, the presence of a bomb, and the mounting delays. The reader is made aware of the impending catastrophe long before the characters, creating a sense of suspense and inevitability. Dramatic irony abounds, as characters pursue their private concerns, unaware of the disaster that will unite and transform them. The interplay of chance and choice, agency and helplessness, is a central theme.

Interwoven Perspectives

The novel employs a shifting third-person perspective, granting intimate access to the thoughts and emotions of a diverse cast. This polyphonic structure allows for empathy and complexity, as no single character or ideology dominates. The interweaving of stories—personal, political, and philosophical—creates a tapestry of meaning, where individual actions and beliefs are both significant and limited. The narrative's structure mirrors the train itself: a series of compartments, each with its own world, yet all bound together on a single, unstoppable journey.

Symbolism of Time and Progress

Time is a pervasive motif: the manipulated station clocks, the relentless schedule, the race to make up lost minutes, and the final, frozen moment of the crash. The train, a symbol of progress and modernity, is both a marvel and a menace, embodying the era's hopes and anxieties. The tension between control and chaos, order and accident, is played out in the train's journey and its disastrous end. The photograph of the wreck becomes a symbol of memory, history, and the limits of human understanding.

Analysis

Emma Donoghue's The Paris Express is a masterful meditation on fate, progress, and the human condition, set against the backdrop of a real historical disaster. By weaving together the stories of a diverse cast—revolutionaries, artists, workers, and elites—Donoghue creates a living tapestry of late 19th-century France, exploring the intersections of class, gender, race, and ideology. The train itself becomes a metaphor for modernity: a force of connection and division, hope and hubris, speed and catastrophe. The novel interrogates the limits of agency—how much control do we truly have over our lives, and what happens when our best-laid plans collide with the randomness of fate? Through Mado's aborted act of violence, the birth in Third Class, and the miraculous survival of most passengers, Donoghue suggests that redemption and transformation are possible, but never guaranteed. The final image—a photograph that captures only part of the truth—reminds us that history is shaped as much by what is left out as by what is recorded. Ultimately, The Paris Express is a poignant reflection on the fragility of life, the unpredictability of progress, and the enduring power of empathy and connection in the face of disaster.

Last updated: January 7, 2026