On October 22, 1895, a train derailment at Montparnasse Station in Paris took a tragic turn when the locomotive crashed through the platform and onto the street below, resulting in the death of one bystander. The incident, which saw the driver Guillaume-Marie Pellerin operating the train at high speed before crashing, has become notorious in both history and popular culture. Rather than a sensational act of terrorism, many spectators initially feared, the cause was simply a case of speeding and human error.
The scene drew tens of thousands of onlookers to Montparnasse, many believing it might have been linked to the era's prevalent anarchist movements in fin-de-siècle Europe. The driver’s failure to brake in time led to the catastrophic accident, and astonishingly, no passengers or crew were reported injured in the crash. The wreckage's aftermath was famously captured in a photograph that would come to inspire artists and writers over the years.
One such artist is Emma Donoghue, whose fascination with that iconic image drove her to create her latest work, The Paris Express, which will be published on March 25, 2025. Donoghue's partner, Chris Roulston, took a job in Paris three years ago, leading the couple to consider Montparnasse as their home base. It was during her search for suitable accommodation that she stumbled upon the haunting photograph of the derailment.
“I was googling Montparnasse, and this photograph leapt up at me,” Donoghue recalls from her home in Ontario, Canada, where she delves deeper into the subject. The tragic incident became a source of obsession for her, leading her to retrace the original train route from Normandy, which departed at 8:45 a.m. on the day of the crash. As she looked out from her window, she began to envision the events through the eyes of passengers from 1895.
Further research took her to the Bibliothèque de France, where she poured over more than 40 newspaper articles covering the crash. This deep dive into history inspired her to structure The Paris Express with 14 chapters, each beginning with a relevant epigraph. She incorporates a quote from W.R. Greg’s essay, Life at High Pressure (1877), which reflects the increasing pace of life during that time.
“The most salient characteristic of life in this latter portion of the nineteenth century is speed,” she quotes, demonstrating the dichotomy between modernity and the human experience. Donoghue explains, “At the beginning of the novel, I’m associating train travel with modernity, high-tech, speed, efficiency and capitalism — which are supposed to get things working faster and better all the time.” However, she warns that capitalism also harbors numerous risks, indicating that just like the train incident, things can indeed go wrong.
One of the vivid characters in The Paris Express is Madeleine “Mado” Pelletier, the first passenger introduced in the story. Mado, fictionalized from a real historical figure, carries a bomb in her metal lunch bucket, intending to detonate it. Pelletier was a radical feminist and psychiatrist who believed that sexual differences are a product of social structures. While Donoghue notes that there is no evidence Pelletier ever made a bomb, she strives to intertwine several other historical figures into her narrative.
Among the colorful characters making an appearance on the train are Fulgence Bienvenue, the architect of the Paris Metro; Marcelle de Heredia, a French neurophysiologist; and Alice Guy, the world’s first female film director. Donoghue keeps them grounded in plausibility, saying, “When I’m writing historical fiction, I follow the facts as far as they will take me.” This includes both real and plausible fictional figures whom she imagines embarked on that tragic journey.
Writing a novel that spans just eight hours places certain constraints on the author. “The further I got into writing this, I started to feel like the story had the rhythm of a train journey,” Donoghue admits. The narrative flows within these limitations, and she reflects on how writing led her to ponder her own personal experiences, notably mortality. “Writing this book also got me thinking about my own mortality and the fact that we all have a personal train journey that can potentially go off the rails at any time because none of us are really sure what is around the corner.”
Born youngest among eight siblings in Dublin, Donoghue’s literary lineage was heavily influenced by her father, Denis, a literary critic who contributed significantly to major literary works. She holds a degree in English and French from University College Dublin and pursued a PhD examining relationships between men and women in 18th-century English literature. Her debut novel came out when she was just 23.
Donoghue feels a duality in her identity, saying, “I now feel fully Canadian, but because I spent the first 20 years of my life in Ireland, my flavour will always be Irish.” Participating in cultural events has maintained her connection with her homeland, such as returning to Dublin for the premiere of her play, The Pull of the Stars, demonstrating her deep ties to Irish culture.
Her breakout novel, Room, which was adapted into an Oscar-nominated film, was later followed by other successful endeavors. Donoghue states, “Screenwriting is a wonderful contrast to the quieter, more solitary life of a novelist.” She looks forward to the release of her first musical, titled The Wind Coming Over the Sea, set to debut this June during the Blyth Festival in Ontario.
Reflecting on the immigrant experience, Donoghue emphasizes the importance of telling such stories today amid rising hostility toward immigrants. “We are a very mobile world,” she asserts. Donoghue encourages a celebration of the immigrant narrative as it becomes increasingly pertinent in today's sociopolitical climate.
The Paris Express not only narrates a historical event that marked a significant moment in Parisian history but also delves into broader questions about speed, progress, and human life, making it a relevant read as Donoghue navigates the complexities of both personal and historical narratives.
