I'm not sure why I didn't abandon ship on this one. (No more Titanic puns, I promise.)
The first part, the set-up, was intriguing and promising: a group of people who should have been on the Titanic, but didn't board for various reasons, meet and form a book club in Paris. Yorick (yes, "alas, poor ..."), who would have been the librarian for the Titanic's second-class passengers and who now owns a bookshop, begins to assign readings for the group. These are chosen from books that had been banned or otherwise vilified in their time -- many of which he had clandestinely stocked in the library he was to oversee on the Titanic. They went down with the ship, obviously; perhaps you could stretch it to say they suffered a second tragic fate - but like so much else in this novel, the metaphor collapses almost as soon as it's raised.
From the beginnings of this group, three people emerge as central characters: Yorick; a rich (part-Japanese, part-French) candy heiress named Zinnia; and Haze - a photographer who has had a hard-scrabble life, making his way through the world based on his charm and good looks, and who, we learn, has never learned to read.
There develops an entirely predictable but in other ways completely inexplicable love triangle: Yorick loves Haze; Haze loves Zinnia; Zinnia loves Yorick. The early formation of this polycule -- for that is, in fact, what they are -- encompasses an epistolary relationship between Haze and Zinnia, facilitated by Yorick in the role of Cyrano de Bergerac.
At this point, the love triangle takes over and the book club and the rest of the characters become secondary, almost unmentioned. The plot becomes consumed by the three characters' shifting relationships with each other. Some other stuff happens and then WWI breaks out. Some more stuff happens, briefly, again to do with shifting relationships among the three. And then it ends.
There are so many interesting possibilities that could have been explored and, most importantly, connected to the plot and the characters in a more meaningful, fully-fleshed out way, but this novel never comes together. Here are just three themes that I wanted to hear and see more about:
1) survivors' guilt and how it shapes these people's lives - there is remarkably little on this and it's in the bloody title! C'mon!
2) banned books and how their themes are mirrored in these people's lives and in the unfolding plot - I could see almost no connection between what they were reading and how the themes they were discussing (they barely discussed the books at all, beyond Yorick lecturing about them) were manifesting. Again, it's in the bloody title!
3) unconventional sexualities, and especially, a deeper exploration of polyamory
I think Schaffert got a bit bogged down in trying to make the novel historically true to the time, but in fact he introduced things that were decidedly not true to the times, and these inconsistencies were jarring. For example, not a word is said about the racism that Zinnia must have experienced, and the attitudes he portrays toward homosexuality are uneven, to say the least -- it's a subject of shame and societal approbation, but also completely and nonchalantly accepted by the core group of characters and their immediate circle beyond. Weird.
Well, between the 10-hour audiobook and writing this review, that's enough thought expended on this one. Disappointing.