Reviews

The Train by Robert Baldick, Georges Simenon

laurenbdavis's review against another edition

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5.0

Most people are familiar with Georges Simenon as the creator of Commissaire Maigret, but the man wrote over 400 novels. The Train was first published in 1961, re-issued here by Melville House Publishing as part of their "Neverlink Library" (which I encourage all serious readers to explore). It is arguably one of the most accomplished of his work. And that's saying something.

Set in France, in this novel we meet Marcel Feron, an Everyman, an ordinary man, even perhaps a bit of a bland person, in the midst of extraordinary times -- the outbreak of war, just as the Germans are invading. Marcel's mother disappeared when he was young, after being labelled a collaborator during WWI. His father returned from the war broken and alcoholic. Marcel himself has suffered TB as a young man and never expected to live a normal life, with wife and children, but has managed to create just such a life, and now his wife is pregnant with their second child.

As word spreads that the Germans are advancing, Marcel takes his wife and daughter and abandons his home and his radio repair shop. He is not, however, surprised this is happening. Ever since the alarming events of his childhood, he felt such a destiny was awaiting him, and so he settles into a strange calm. It's a testament to Simenon's writing -- the 1st person narration is the perfect choice -- that we are drawn so far into Marcel's reality, and never question his state of mind.

On the refuge train he is separated from his wife and child, but meets a tragic-looking girl in a black dress. With her, and in this aberrant parenthetic span of time, Marcel finds passion. The book might have no more than an albeit satisfying psychological study of an ordinary man in wartime, but the end of the book is so shattering (I shan't give it away), that it transforms the work into something deeply thought-provoking, not to mention unsettling -- a trait of Simenon's work.

Recommended.


msand3's review against another edition

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3.0

On the surface, this novel is about a man with his wife and child fleeing Belgium as refugees when the Nazis invade. He gets separated from them on the train and meets a dark, mysterious woman named Anna, with whom he falls deeply in love. But the subtext beneath this plot is the way in which war reveals man's truest self. Marcel's life is defined by two chaotic moments: his abandonment as a child during WWI (during which he was placed on a train by himself) and his life's upheaval during WWII when forced to flee his home on a refugee train. We tend to think of the middle part in-between the madness--the steady years of marrying, having a child, owning a small business, and living a quiet, routine existence--as "life." But Marcel sees this almost as a dull stasis. The invasion gives him a chance to encounter Fate, which he does without any evaluative judgment. He accepts his position as flotsam on the ocean of War, and allows himself to be carried where it takes him. I can't say anything more so as not to present spoilers, but the novel causes us to question the paths we choose to take in life, suggesting that the moments of chaos directing us against our will might not be so much "against our will" as we think, and that these moments might be better indications of our "true" selves than the conscious decisions we make during the long moments of stability that we refer to as our "regular life."

While Simenon's novel offers this interesting shift in perspective, I didn't find the plot to be necessarily the best way to go about parsing the idea. It felt too dull to be a thriller, but not deep enough to be a philosophical novel. Still, it kept my attention enough to make me want to explore Simenon's better known crime fiction at some point down the road.

ncinsley's review against another edition

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emotional medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? It's complicated
  • Loveable characters? No
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

2.0

andrewdeyoung's review against another edition

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4.0

This is the first book I've read by Georges Simenon, and though he's probably written better, this was a good place to start. Set against the backdrop of the Germans invading France during World War II, The Train is a character study with existentialist overtones, examining what happens to a man when the old conditions of his life are stripped away. The book is far from perfect, but it was a fascinating read and enough to interest me in reading more by Simenon. I'll be moving onto Tropic Moon next.

kikiandarrowsfishshelf's review

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4.0

You know those books where the plot is not much action but the characters and settings are so powerfully done it sells the book? That's this book about a French man and his family fleeing the advancing Germans.

And then you get to the end and you go wow, when you put it down.

lindagreen's review

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4.0

The Neversink Library is a wonderful attempt by the publishing house Melville House to find the best hidden gems in worldwide literature. The books in this imprint are the ones that should be classics but, usually due to geography, have oftentimes not found a very wide audience.

Coming in at a scant 160 pages, Georges Simenon's The Train reads much more like a short story than a novel. It doesn't contain all the twists and turns that you would expect in a novel and, instead, stays much more focused on the singular plot idea. The book is not overly descriptive and tends to read as a "play by play" of daily events. This may prove boring for modern readers (it was first published in 1961) who are used to the more descriptive prose or edge of your seat thrill rides. I found the style a refreshing change and while I am not usually a fan of first person POV, I think it worked exceptionally well in this piece. However, I think this lack of descriptions and emotions may be one of the main reasons for the varying reviews of this book: having not experienced something like this yourself it makes it can make it difficult to understand the mentality and the actions that the characters engage in.

Personally, I enjoyed it immensely. In light of their situation, I understand his coupling with Anna (as he said it was just as much a desire for life as a desire for her) and the increasing despondency of being broken more and more into pieces from their original reality (the separation of train cars) into a place where ultimately they can only rely on themselves and their fellow travelers. Even in this the story excels...where once fear of their neighbors was had, as the journey continues these people become a surrogate life line - not folks they would choose to associate with (or condone the actions of) but by their common circumstances they are obliged to accept in order to survive.

The ending is as expected which, rather than dissappoint, provides a sense of expected closure to the story. Rather than over the top melodrama, this story rings so realistically true to the ordeals of daily events. It's not a movie..it's real life. Different from ours, yes, but no less joyful and tragic in its routine. As he intimated, daily life is often boring and nondescript but just once being able to experience passion for someone, some goal, life itself is what makes life worth living.

ARC Galley Proof

pussreboots's review against another edition

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3.0

Georges Simenon was a Belgian born writer who had a prolific career. He's best known for his Commissaire Maigret series which spans 75 novels and 28 short stories. He also wrote many other stand alone pulp novels under a variety of pseudonyms.

As his Maigret series pretty much drowns out the other books, it's been difficult to find much information about The Train. I can tell you that it was first published in 1961 as Le Train and it was first translated into English in 1964. It has since been retranslated and reissued by Melville books; it was their review galley that I read.

Marcel Féron has a normal, unexceptional life as a radio repairman in the Ardennes region of France. He has a 4 year old daughter and a wife who is seven months pregnant. As Paris falls and Belgium is invaded, he realizes he and his family have to make their escape. They head for the trains. So does (nearly) everyone else.

When traveling to escape there's no time to think and little time to react. Féron takes the new facts of his life with the same calmness that he takes all other aspects of his life.

There's a detachment to Féron. He reports on the dangers on the train with the same quietude as he describes his morning routine at home. Féron is a hard character to read. He is very much akin to the protagonist in Banana Yoshimoto's The Lake but I just couldn't relate to him as well.

ingridm's review

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mysterious medium-paced

3.5

chalicotherex's review against another edition

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5.0

The first part of the novel's about the way we form groups with strangers, both in extraordinary situations like war (where the old rules of conduct can quickly fall away) and in more mundane gatherings, like sharing public transit. The second half is about life as a refugee, and is up there with Celine's final trilogy for documenting the uncertainty of such a life.

And even though you're with the protagonist all the way, you realize he's a piece of shit. Still, you always tell yourself you'll be the guy who signs up with the Resistance, never the guy who keeps his head down.

oldpondnewfrog's review

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5.0

First read March 2013
I'm not sure what it was about this book, but lately, for some reason, it's been the one I think of first.

"I want to make it clear right away that I was not an unhappy man, nor a sad man either."

Second read October 2014
What a novel. It just works for me. I am taken in all the way. Great chapter endings. Great familiarity among the strangers-become-roommates on the train. And a really poignant, believable love affair.

There is this sense of inevitability that I can't quite express, but which I experience strongly. It's also present in other works—like Don Henley's "The End of the Innocence."

The translation by Robert Baldick is, I think, especially good.

"When I woke up, a yellowish light which I knew so well was filtering into the bedroom through the holland curtains. Our windows, on the first floor, have no shutters. None of the houses in the street has any."

I love that has.

I love the ending, which is unusually satisfying for a thing like this that has to come to an end.

I love the narrator, whose mention of irrelevant details is integral to the pleasure of his tale, and whose uncertainty about his own feelings somehow makes me understand better.