A taut, emotionally gripping, and surprisingly funny novel about a father and daughter stranded in an airport at the end of the world.
Ivan is a solitary man in his seventies, set in his ways and haunted by the failures of his past. His smart and cynical daughter, Nina, is in the twilight of her twenties and has long kept a distance from her sentimental father. But when Ivan proposes a trip to Europe in hopes that it will bring them closer together, Nina reluctantly agrees. They meet at LAX, where their departure is delayed. And delayed again. And again. As the hours drag on, their sharp, caustic and wide-ranging conversation reveals a lifetime of misunderstandings, unhealed wounds, and stubborn love.
Soon more flights are canceled, security tightens, airport staff grow evasive, and it becomes clear to Ivan and Nina that something is wrong. They begin to suspect that they're being held prisoner—sequestered from the world without explanation. At last, the surreal starts to overtake the mundane, and their need to escape—and to protect each other—turns increasingly urgent.
What begins as a piercing portrait of a father and daughter becomes a novel of eerie suspense, as Nina and Ivan navigate not only their fractured bond but also a world teetering on the brink of collapse. A story of loving across gaps—between parent and child, between things said and unsaid—and about what happens when the outside world finally mirrors the chaos within, Passengers is Maksik's most timely and accomplished novel yet.
Alexander Maksik is the author of four novels: You Deserve Nothing, a New York Times and IndieBound bestseller; A Marker to Measure Drift, which was a New York Times Notable Book, as well as a finalist for the William Saroyan Prize and Le Prix du Meilleur Livre Étranger; Shelter in Place, named one of the best books of the year by the Guardian and the San Francisco Chronicle and The Long Corner, which will be published in 2022.
Maksik’s writing has appeared in many publications including Harper’s, The New Yorker, Tin House, Best American Nonrequired Reading, Sewanee Review, Harvard Review, New York Times Book Review, Condé Nast Traveler (where for several years he was a contributing editor) and The Atlantic, and has been translated into more than a dozen languages.
He is the recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship, a Pushcart Prize and the Andrew Lytle Prize, as well as fellowships from the Truman Capote Literary Trust and the Corporation of Yaddo.
Along with French novelist Colombe Schneck, he is the co-artistic director of the Can Cab Literary Residence in Catalonia, Spain.
I’m not sure my review will even begin to do this story justice. The premise is what drew me to Passengers by Alexander Maksik. It is about a father and semi-estranged daughter who have agreed to visit Paris, a lifetime dream Ivan has had for the two of them. They meet at LAX, but their flight is repeatedly delayed, so they spend the day wandering the concourse, talking, and introspecting. After a time, though, they begin to realize that something is very wrong and that they need to escape.
This story is heavily character-driven. We spend a lot of time in both Ivan’s and Nina’s minds as they talk about and remember the past. Maksik has a real strength in crafting characters. These are two complicated people who feel as though they could really exist. I felt this way about the minor characters we glimpse, too. As Ivan and Nina wander, we learn about their history. It is as naturally complex as many parent-child relationships are, seen in their recollections, or lack thereof, of certain events and their different, often conflicting perspectives on the same moments. Yet the love they have for one another is, if not crystal clear, at least as clear as quartz or opal.
As we progress in the story, it gradually takes on more of a fever-dream quality. What is real? What is not? There is no sense of time. This may feel strange to some readers, but it allows the situation they find themselves in to mirror what real-life relationships can be like. Time blends together, so we cannot always remember exactly where the pieces of our history belong.
Passengers is a story about a father and daughter trying to love one another despite years of hurt and misunderstanding, and about the impossibility of fully protecting the people we love. Of course, Ivan has always wanted to protect Nina from everything, but here he comes to the realization that it is impossible to do so. It revolves around their connection and solidarity in the face of fear, isolation, and uncertainty. It also touches upon grief, regret, aging, and mortality. Some of the heavier threads woven through the tale are loss of agency, with people reduced to “passengers” in systems and events beyond their control, and societal collapse from within, including institutional secrecy, manufactured normalcy, and passivity. Does this remind anyone else of current world events? So timely.
The writing is literary, restrained, and deeply character-focused. Maksik uses clear, unshowy prose, sharp dialogue, and close interiority to reveal the distance between Ivan and Nina, then layers in vivid, unsettling imagery as the airport’s reality begins to fracture. It is emotionally observant and quietly tense rather than fast or flashy.
Passengers is a story that snuck up on me. I was interested, but not invested, for a good deal of it. However, Maksik roped me in like I was a young calf, and by the end, I COULD. NOT. PUT. IT. DOWN. The fever-dream quality is still with me. Speaking realistically, though, it is a story that will not be for everyone, even though I think it is amazing. It may not even be for most. It is a story for people whose minds love to delve into deeper meanings and for people who enjoy fiction that explores family relationships, especially parent-child relationships. Readers who have enjoyed Rachel Cusk, Jenny Offill, or Paul Yoon may also find something to love here.
Nerd Rating: 🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓 — 4.75 Nerds, rounded to 5 Nerds where necessary. A thoughtful, eerie, and deeply human story about the limits of love and protection in a collapsing world.
Let’s Discuss: Why do or don’t you enjoy stories that blend intimate family drama with a surreal or unsettling premise?
I read a digital copy made available by Europa Editions through NetGalley, and this review reflects my honest opinion.
Passengers had such an incredible premise, which honestly made my disappointment with this one even greater. An estranged father and daughter trapped in an airport as flights are repeatedly delayed and canceled, security tightens, employees become increasingly evasive, and it slowly becomes clear that something is very wrong with the outside world? I was completely sold. This sounded like exactly my kind of book.
Unfortunately, this was waaaaay too character-driven for me.
There is SO much talking and introspection. So much. The relationship between Ivan and Nina is clearly meant to be the heart of the story, and I can appreciate what the author was trying to explore through their complicated history, regrets, and unresolved issues. But their conversations dominate the novel to the point that I felt like the far more interesting story was constantly happening somewhere just out of reach.
I wanted to know what the heck was happening! Why were all the flights being canceled? What was happening outside the airport? Why was security changing? Why was everyone being so evasive? Were they actually being trapped there? What was happening to the rest of the world?!
Every time the eerie, unsettling atmosphere started building and it seemed like we might finally get more answers, the story returned to Ivan and Nina talking. And talking. And talking.
For readers who love deeply character-driven novels centered on complicated family relationships, this may work much better. But I went into Passengers fascinated by the idea of an airport slowly transforming from an ordinary place into something much more sinister while the outside world seemingly falls apart. That aspect had so much potential, and I desperately wanted the book to explore it more.
Such an awesome premise, but the execution just wasn't for me. I finished this feeling like the story I desperately wanted to read was happening in the background of the story I actually got.
2.5 stars.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for this advanced readers copy in exchange for an honest review.
Way too repetitive. The same conversation going on and on. I get what the author was going for, but it just wasn’t nuanced enough. For such a character-driven story, it’s surprising how little I cared about either of these two characters. The dialogue or setup for the dialogue was clunky, which is a problem considering most of the book is dialogue.
I was into it for about the first 50 pages and then it lost air. Great concept, missed the mark on execution.
As Ivan and Nina go to the airport to take a trip to Paris, delay after delay have them questioning the flow of time, reality, and their family bonds. A very interesting, surreal story!
“All his life in those evenings, those early mornings, he had never walked for order, never looked to the sky for reason, never was he trying to synthesize. No, he went out for the transcendent turmoil of it, for the impenetrable, the inexplicable, the purely sensual, and later, after Nina was born, to look with his daughter, to stand beneath it together, to show her what serves no purpose, what has no meaning.”
What a thrillingly, wildly sublime book this was.
(I take my blurbs very, very seriously, even though I shouldn’t. So when Lauren Groff, Adam Ross, Anthony Marra, Ben Fountain and Paul Yoon coalesced around this novel like a cluster of overactive atoms, my antennas went up. Way up.)
Ivan, a lonely homebuilder in his seventies, reunites at LAX with his somewhat estranged daughter Nina, a disenchanted massage therapist in her thirties. They are both set to fly off to Paris, in the hopes of rekindling their relationship.
As the hours pass, their flight is delayed. And delayed. And delayed. Normality unravels and Ivan and Nina start to feel as if they are trapped in David Lynch’s prefrontal cortex.
“Passengers” is one of the most affecting and eerie and propulsive and psychologically astute books that I have ever read. The father-daughter relationship is fraught and tender, spun with pitch-perfect dialogue and silent (mis)understandings. The looming sense of unease and dread hums like white noise throughout the airport, in hyperrealistic scenes and the inner monologues of strangers met along the way.
Alexander Maksik is absolutely genius at depicting a slow unraveling of norms, warping time like an elastic band, whispering in your ear that something is amiss, all the while holding his characters in his arms like a big protective wing.
“Passengers” is a stunning portait of what rises to the surface in crisis, what falls by the wayside, what clings to your neck like a nervous child. It is brutal in its revelations and breathtaking in its humanity.
Like Paul Yoon said, it is “pure heart-in-your-throat magic”.
I did a read/listen combo, which worked well for this book. I enjoyed the first half more than the second, even though I came to understand the characters better in the 2nd half. It also got repetitive and left me with too many questions. Full review to follow.
Alexander Maksik's Passengers is a deeply observant and thoughtful novel about the relationship between a father and a daughter. A story that takes place in a concourse at LAX on one day, wondering why the world seems to have stopped moving. They are not allowed to leave, are being told nothing, and spend the day in introspective conversation. Together we walk with them, up and down the hallways, watching the people, revisiting the past, and trying to process their lives, tensions, and the reasons they have grown apart.
It is a thoughtful character portrait that is complex and real. Each of them recalls things differently. They have conflicting perspectives on the events of their lives. It is something all of us have experienced and feels like the conversations we have had or would like to have with our own families.
At times the story feels hypnotic. We - alongside the characters - lose track of time, and are kept in the dark about the events outside of the airport. Even the stories of the past blend and overlap, adding to the disorientation.
Both characters carry guilt, fear, grief, regret. Both feel isolated and uncertain about life, the future and each other. But, it is always in the background that they are trying to find a place of mutual love and respect.
This book is quiet, sharp and restrained, with deeply layered imagery and characters who resonate because they are the people we love.
Thank you @LibroFM for the #gifted audiobook. Narrated by Cory Herndon. I pressed play and only pushed stop once... only because I had to.
I really enjoyed this book. Ivan and his daughter Nina are at the airport waiting to board their plane to Paris except it keeps getting delayed. The airport becomes more crowded, no planes seem to be leaving, and everything just seems to be getting weirder. The sky is a funny colour, fighter jets were seen but this is all on the periphery of the personal relationship. There’s also glimpses into other peoples thoughts, other passengers , waitress, a barista etc and often their thoughts are different to the image they are presenting. It’s all very human and yet becomes more surreal as they are unable to leave the airport and the end of the world seems to be approaching.
Thank you to Europa Editions and NetGalley for the advance reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This is a book I really enjoyed, but it is absolutely not going to be for everyone. It’s entirely character-driven literary fiction, with very little plot (it takes place in an airport terminal over the span of less than a day). Ivan and his daughter Nina have a tense relationship at best, but not because they dislike each other. Instead, it’s tense because they are in completely different life stages and have significantly different views on life and processing their own histories. As they navigate the airport as it slowly closes in around them, we get lengthy reflections on their abandonment by Nora (wife/mother), how their memories differ for the same events from Nina’s youth (testing the limits of memory), and most importantly demonstrating the way adult children and their aging parents struggle to understand each other while still loving so deeply.
Now, alongside these reflections, many of the chapters also end with a paragraph showing the inner lives of the folks they interact with in the airport. We see a waitress worried with about her children, a very young gate agent who clearly dislikes people despite being a gate agent in an airport, and even a strange man in a suit with a leg of meat who reflects on absurdity. These added life to the airport, but more importantly to the introspective psyche of the story.
Now, as I said above, this is going to be a hard one for a lot of people to get into, and so while I loved it I would say I recommend it selectively at best. Alongside minimal plot, it’s also intentionally very slow and there’s no clarity on the dystopian event looming in the background. The event isn’t important, mind you, outside of driving the character’s movement through the terminal. This is also a book I wouldn’t recommend to anyone younger than 30, because you need to at least be an adult child to an aging parent (better still would be if you’re an adult child to an aging parent who also has an adult child, which I’m not!)
Original comments from August 31 Full review to come in a few days as I gather my thoughts. This won't be for everyone, but those readers who like a really character-driven literary fiction will eat it up.
Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the advanced copy of Passengers. Airports are already a weird sort of alternate universe where time and space slow down, speed up, and everything feels strange. This book takes that feeling and runs with it. Stuck in a time loop, this one resonated with me, and I have to say, being trapped in an airport with my father is my absolute worst nightmare. This was so trippy and pretty sure it will affect my airport experience for some time to come.
Ivan, a lonely 70-year-old former contractor, meets his somewhat estranged daughter Nina at LAX. Nina is a disillusioned massage therapist, almost thirty. They are about to fly to Paris, hoping to revive their bond. Why Paris? Before Ivan had his daughter with his then-wife Nora, he spent the three happiest years of his life in the French capital. Now he finally wants to show this high point to his daughter, and share it with her. As the hours pass, their flight is delayed, and delayed, and delayed again. Father and daughter are stuck with each other, without the purpose and catharsis of their week in Paris, in an airport that closes around them like a bell jar. The story consists largely of conversations and both characters' perspectives on them. We alternate between Ivan's mind and Nina's. How resiliently they handle the endlessly postponed flight symbolizes the toughness needed to accept missed opportunities and closed-off side paths. Remembering and talking, they search for what they mean to each other, patiently laying out their shared and individual pasts like a puzzle. They do it lovingly, with insults and teasing, using their old grievances as material for conversation. Above all, both are victims of their own pitfalls and self-doubt. The daughter feels stuck in life, without much purpose or ambition, but that is the last thing she wants to admit to her father. The father can't help giving unsolicited advice. The enigma of what is happening in the airport and beyond seeps into the story but never takes over. The outside world serves the inner world of the two blood relatives. The focus stays on them. Until about ¾ of the way through…
Last quarter
… because as flights are cancelled and staff respond evasively, an oppressive atmosphere of isolation develops, while the world outside seems to be fading out more and more. Is some intoxicating gas being sprayed? Why are soldiers blocking the way out? And what is going on out there? A terrorist attack? A natural disaster? Aliens? Drop by drop, disorientation takes over. For the reader too. The conversations and events become stranger and more incomprehensible. The ending is quite dark.
Verdict
Passengers is gripping, ominous and psychologically astute. The father-daughter relationship is fraught and tender, built from dynamics and dialogues that are right down to the last detail.
Brief, sporadic shifts in perspective to other travelers and bystanders serve two purposes. They reveal how the presence or behavior of father and daughter has a small but significant impact on other stranded travelers, like a butterfly effect on the lives of strangers. They also show how quickly we judge negatively on the basis of a smidgen of information, until a change of perspective punctures it.
Because we get to know father and daughter through and through, as a reader you anticipate the pain points in their conversations. But you also see how, through the forced, intense, prolonged contact, they learn from those clashes, talking and hesitating as they search for words and truth. What they say fits their character, background and stage of life flawlessly. It is recognizable, authentic and cathartic, although something unfathomable and vague also lingers around them. That is precisely what's needed: it's good that the two main characters, for once, don't have everything sorted and crystal clear, because that is how people speak and are, especially in such an awkward reunion. Weighing words, exploring lines of thought, going back to the start and trying again. It is a trial and error, a mutual quest.
The main strengths:
Despite the oppressiveness, it is often also light-footed and even witty. The scene where they get drunk and chat with the barmaid Sadie is delightful. How the writer, within the same context and narrow narrative frame, with mostly two chatting main characters, carries the reader along without noticeable dips. You really get to know Ivan and Nina.
My biggest doubt: ironically, it became less dynamic and gripping for me just as the drama and tension rose (after ¾). Personally, I don't think he really needed this plot twist.
Still a good read!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I hadn’t heard of Passengers before it was longlisted for the National Book Award, but its premise (a father and daughter gradually realize that they are stuck in an airport amidst some mysterious, uncanny events) has my name written all over it. I had high hopes as I started, especially because I loved the ideas and relationships it was exploring, but ultimately the execution was just not to my taste.
First: those great themes. I was very drawn to his exploration of the relationship between the parent of an adult child (who just cannot explain the lived reality of how much their child changed them/their life) and an adult child (who feels frustrated by their need to try). Having waited until my 30s to become a parent, I feel like I have a glimpse into both sides of that relationship — obviously my daughter isn’t an adult yet, but I can see and feel the path from here to there laid clearly in front of me. The way Maksik brought these characters’ relationship to life (via dialogue and internal monologue) was just SO effective. I sympathized with both of them and wanted to give them each a good shake and a good hug.
That said, the structure began to wear away at me by the halfway mark or so. Despite the dynamic presence, this book is almost entirely made up of these two characters having variations of the same conversations over and over in different parts of the airport, even as the tension was building in the background. To me, this dichotomy just felt totally incongruous, and I became more and more frustrated me waiting for something new to happen. And finally, all I can say here is that I was not a fan of the ending.
Finally, a quick note to say that the audiobook edition of this one was well done! Easy to follow and well acted.
If you find yourself drawn to this one, I say give it a try. Just be prepared for the fact that the pace stays relatively slow for 95% of the book.
This was my first contemporary fiction read in a long time. I REALLY wanted to like this one. The premise sounded fascinating: exploring an aging father’s complicated (estranged?) relationship with his adult daughter in an unfolding, inexplicably apocalyptic airport setting.
I preordered it and even got it two weeks before release day due to a super kind local bookstore!
The dialogue between the two was always the strongest aspect, but the narrator’s prose and the character’s interior thoughts were quite uneven. The characters discuss their histories, traumas, hopes, and regrets with one another but they’re presented as more profound than they actually are. I do usually love when ordinary lives and relationships are given extreme attention (LOVE Colwin’s “Happy All the Time”), but Maksik’s presentation was not ultimately compelling. There were lots of little vignettes sprinkled in with other minor characters’ points of view, and those, too, never seemed to have a meaningful role in advancing the novel.
By the end, the apocalyptic premise mostly overwhelms the central story. The characters are increasingly disoriented and unable to think clearly, which ended up getting in the way of the characters’ relationship with one another, despite the we-must-escape plot. The book was most successful when the characters’ banter betrayed deeper longings or insecurities, so their impaired cognition (though maybe thematically interesting to explore) ends up working against the novel’s strengths.
One major theme was the ultimate inability to communicate experiences or meanings, even to our own family. That’s true, of course (!), but not profound in and of itself. The apocalyptic setting is maybe a metaphor for that, although I still lean that it was unsuccesful and at cross purpose
—
Ambition was no antidote to the condition of being alive.
Nina was running out of time. Ask or never know, but then why should not knowing be a disadvantage? Why should she know everything?
𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗦 74 year old Ivan, set in his ways and coming to terms with his life’s regrets, arrives hours early for the international flight he will take to Paris, a trip he’s dreamed of sharing with his daughter since she was a child.
Nina, nearing the end of her 20s, arrives at the airport begrudgingly. Cynical and unforgiving, she finds Ivan and the two wait for their flight.
But a short wait turns into hours and hours, delay after delay—and with so much time on their hands, the two begin to take apart their relationship one memory at a time.
As the day turns to evening, as they come to realize all flights are delayed, when they begin to hear rumors, it becomes clear that all is not right outside the confines of the airport and now father and daughter are waiting for something else entirely.
𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 Yes.
I was uncomfortable and angry at both MCs throughout, but also enthralled by the examining of the minutiae of their relationship, which suffers in part by the large generational gap between father and daughter.
𝗩𝗜𝗕𝗘 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗖𝗞 This feels so much like the criminally underrepresented (on booksta) Transcription, the slow unraveling of a lifetime of love and loss only seen in relationships that span decades.
Largely character driven, low plot, and speculative in nature, it won’t be fur everyone.
𝗪𝗛𝗬 𝗔𝗨𝗗𝗜𝗢 Corey Herndon is the sole narrator. Not someone I’m familiar with, it did take me a moment to settle into his cadence. I think physical would be as good an experience as audio.
𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗗 This is the kind of book that is long listed for awards but not popular in the mainstream (see: Transcription). If you’re someone who enjoys books that dive deep into the beauty (and scars) of relationships, don’t miss this one.
Imagine if Stephen King's novella "the Langoliers" and Cormac McCarthy's "the Road" had a baby, and then they told that baby the most upsetting bedtime story possible. I absolutely loved it. Not to set expectations too high, but Maksik conjures the quiet desolation of "the Road," presenting us with an adult daughter and her aging father as they navigate the end of the world at LAX. On a sentence level, the language isn't Cormac McCarthy, but the slowly building relationship between these two, trapped in a moment of suspended consciousness, has echoes of McCarthy all over it.
This isn't a plot heavy book. There are no answers. You won't find out what happened. The resolution is the emotion that's invoked through the narrative. My hope is that readers who go in for that kind of introspective storytelling will allow this novel to unfurl at its own pace.
As the relationship between Nina and Ivan is fleshed out through memories, the question of what it means to love a child and how to care for our parents in a flawed and dangerous world are right at the top of the story. The ways Nina and Ivan are able to connect and *almost* fully see each other is just so beautifully rendered. I know we aren't supposed to quote ARCs, since the language isn't final, but this is about to be released and I can't imagine it'll change: "She loved him then with pure sadness" just broke me in the magical way that only fiction can.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Europa for this free ARC in exchange for an honest review. Fingers are crossed for this brilliant novel to make the National Book Awards short list.
With Passengers, expect maximum vibes and minimum action. It’s an excellent novel, but much more cerebral than I was expecting, especially given the (impeccable) premise of a father and daughter trapped in an airport at the end of the world. Typically, that level of dystopia indicates plenty of action and suspense, but with Passengers, it’s much more of a hazy, unsettling energy than any outright drama.
If you aren’t in for one long, ceaseless conversation between father and daughter, skip this one. That is the novel, interspersed with snippets of strangers’ points of view and an increasing disquiet. But if you’re ready for a deep dive into a father-daughter relationship and all the love and mess that that entails, you’re in for a treat. While I can only speak from the daughter angle, Maksik’s portrayal of this bond is spot on and visceral.
Come in expecting banter and philosophizing over your standard end-of-the-world fare, and I think you’ll be very happy with Passengers. 4 stars ✨
Thanks to Europa Editions and Libro.fm for my advanced listening copy!
Europa Editions is one of my favorite publishers, so I was excited to read this one. Doubly excited because the author is an alumni of the college my youngest attends. And while I enjoyed the esoteric thoughts I had about a parent-child love, the meaning of that depth of love and how it becomes a beacon of light and maybe the meaning of life itself for a parent, the book lost me a bit with its vagueness in all that it introduced. Introduced and didn’t really expand on.
Maksik does dialogue very well, and that was fun; but I couldn’t grab onto the arc. There were too many thoughts offered without a point. I don’t often need a plot, and the reflections on parenthood and memory and meaning and life were nice, but I do want a point to what is served.
Hats off to keeping us trapped in an airport for a day and moving that along…that is a feat and is what earned 3 stars from me.
This is an unusual and unsettling novel that begins with a father and daughter waiting for a flight to Europe. Ivan, in his seventies, hopes the trip will bring him closer to Nina, his cynical and emotionally distant daughter. But as delays continue, the airport becomes an increasingly sinister place, and their situation takes a disturbing turn. I found the premise intriguing, particularly the exploration of a complicated father-daughter relationship and the misunderstandings that can accumulate over a lifetime. Maksik creates an eerie atmosphere, blending family drama with psychological suspense and a growing sense of impending catastrophe. It’s an interesting and mostly compelling read, but I found it went on a bit too long and left too many unanswered questions about the situation developing at the airport, leaving me feeling unsatisfied and uneasy. Or maybe that was the point?
I was so excited about the premise of this book! A father and daughter in an airport waiting to fly to a long awaited trip to Paris when flights start getting delayed and something is brewing outside that is unexplained? Yes please! But it fell flat, was repetitive and never really went anywhere except into the minds of Ivan and Nina. If you like character driven novels you might enjoy this, but don’t expect much to happen.
This sticks with you. I will not spoil it, just know that you don’t know what you’re reading until you sit with it for awhile. Then we can talk about it. This was 3.5 stars when I finished, but after my think time, it’s 4 stars. The initial lower rating is because of a slow start followed by a fast ramp up, but I understand why now.
It’s the end of the world, and a father and daughter are stuck in an airport. The father’s dreamt for many years—since his daughter was born—of taking her to Paris, the city where he was free and different for a very brief period in his life. He’s desperate to show this to her and in some way leave that to remember him by.
But it’s the end of the world, and that gradually dawns on them both as their flight is delayed over and over again, and then seemingly indefinitely. People keep arriving and the airport fills up as no one leaves. Time becomes an elastic thing, and everything turns surreal as father and daughter realise they’re struggling to recall even the recent past. Something’s happening—or being done—to them, and they become determined to find a way out.
This is a quirky premise, but anyone who’s been stuck in an airport will relate to the feeling of claustrophobia that brings; the novel does this so well in its later pages. Most of it, however, is a study of this father-daughter relationship, mostly from his perspective: the yearning for connection and understanding, the terror and dread of making mistakes, and the many miscommunications that accumulate over decades. But it’s also the deep love, devotion and genuine affection between the two; in other words, the maddening complexity and paradox we experience in such close family relationships. Being stuck in a restricted space at the end of the world just serves to bring everything that’s difficult between them into stark relief.
This novel from Maksik is a dreamy and surreal experience, and a quiet delight. Watch for the fun character at the end.
Thank you to Europa Editions and NetGalley for the e-ARC.
This review first appeared in The Sunday Long Read, October 25, 2026 — Issue #557.
I was given an advance reader copy of this book by Europa Editions in exchange for my honest review.
This was a really well written book, it just wasn’t my type of book. So my rating is more about my preference in books rather than the book being mediocre. That being said, let’s get into it!
This book is about Nina and Ivan, a father daughter duo who are at an airport at the end of the world. The book delves deeply into their characters and their lives both past and present. There isn’t a whole lot of action, it’s mostly reflections from and about the characters, both from within in without. If you like examining characters deeply, this is the book for you! The tale is haunting, like a fever dream you can’t wake up from. Like being stuck in a loop or in a hall of fun house mirrors.
The writing is prose like, and meanders in the best way. It makes you feel like the duo: trapped, confused, and at times even a little content. You begin to feel one with them, either father or daughter depending on your age. I suspect this is one of those books that you get additional meaning from if you read it when young and then again when older. You come away from the book feeling introspective, with the urge to take an inventory of your life.
Though the themes are different, this novel reminded me of Samuel Beckett’s play Waiting for Godot. Because nothing major happens, the characters must find ways to distract themselves through conversation. And even when the characters talk about leaving or taking action, they move very little. Just as Godot never arrives, their flight never takes off.
Ivan, 75, meets his daughter Nina, 29, in the Los Angeles airport. They are travelling to Paris where Ivan lived for a few years as a young man. He wants to show Nina where he lived and to share his early life with her; perhaps the trip will bring them closer together. Their flight is delayed and then delayed again and again. Soon all flights are delayed. Security tightens and no one is allowed to leave the airport terminal. Obviously something is terribly wrong but no one has any information.
The father and daughter spend their time talking. They discuss many issues. They express their grievances and regrets and talk about their relationship. Nora, Ivan’s wife and Nina’s mother who left her husband and child 12 years ago to follow her dreams, is often mentioned. Ivan frequently talks about his memories of Nina as a child. Because the third-person omniscient point of view is used, the reader also learns Ivan and Nina’s thoughts. Ivan, for instance, worries about whether he was a good father: did she inherit his lack of ambition? And Nina has so many conflicting emotions when it comes to both her parents.
The novel is obviously very character-focused. Ivan is nostalgic, often focused on the past. His love for his daughter is all-encompassing, the depth of which he cannot find words to express, matched only by his love of nature. He describes himself as “a sucker for the sweet syrup of nostalgia, a weakness for sentimental reverie, a man more moved by his daughter and the past and the balm of night air than anything else.” He is cautious and unambitious, “more afraid of losing what they had than determined to have more.” Of course it’s interesting to see how they view each other. Nina thinks she understands why Nora left him: “His self-pity, his hunger for attention, his constant reconfiguring of the past, the conviction that he was always being slighted and misunderstood.”
Nina irritated me. She tends to be self-centred, negative and judgmental. She is upset that Ivan “could never just listen to her. When would he come to understand that there was no more advice left to give?” But then “she was furious that her father had run out of useful lessons.” She often behaves like someone much younger. She does admit, “She could not go on behaving like she was fifteen. It was embarrassing. All this petulance.” I could not agree more. She thinks it’s a daughter’s privilege “to be angry without regret, without concern, without responsibility to fairness.” She’s upset with her life “and all its myriad disappointments and dissatisfactions,” but expresses her unhappiness through anger at what she perceives as her father’s faults, including his need to provide constant advice.
Nora, the absent wife and mother, never appears in the novel, but we learn a lot about her too. Clearly she is single-minded, focused on following her own desires and ambitions. In a flashback, Nina remembers her mother telling her, “’There are things I want to do. Just as there are things you want to do. And we should do them because if we stay where we are out of fear, or expectation, or loyalty, well, then we will never do anything at all, and we’ll hate ourselves forever.’” And what Nora wants to do she is convinced she can do only if living alone. Nora and Ivan are clear foils: he returned from Paris and fell into his father’s business reluctantly, out of cowardice, because “Every step [was] in direct opposition to desire.”
There is some suspense. From the beginning, there’s a suggestion that something is wrong. Ivan comments on the peculiar yellow sky. Then there is reference to earthquakes. Later a trio of fighter jets streak across the sky. People in the airport start behaving strangely. And there are guards preventing anyone from leaving. What is responsible: “the president and his goons” or climate change or the arrival of aliens? But readers should not expect an explanation.
I found reading this book to be a slog. I got tired of the endless introspection and inertia. Perhaps the fact that I will soon be travelling and spending time in five airports made this book too unsettling for me at this time. I do not want to be stalled, either physically or psychologically, as Ivan and Nina are.
Note: I received an eARC from the publisher via NetGalley.
Thank you Europa Editions for the advanced readers copy via Netgalley - this one released this week! You may have seen this one around as it's been longlisted for the National Book Award for Fiction!
This is a literary story about the shift in relationships between fathers and daughters. There is a familiarity between them but also a barrier, a chasm even. Sometimes in life that happens, as it has in my own life: a family member you know deeply and yet no longer do; the ease of second nature banter but when certain topics come up, when there's a lull in the conversation, those cracks, those barely hanging on threads, are exposed and pulled taut. The fear of saying the truth, at least about what one feels and thinks, and the game that is danced in those conversations.
But then the atmosphere slowly begins to change. This is no longer simply about the complexity between two people; something is different. Something is not right.
The flow of the dialogue and the structure of no chapters might be a struggle for some readers but I personally didn't mind and felt it aptly suited the story. Definitely literary but at times it had a hazy train-of-thought way about it. We are intimately privy not just to Ivan and Nina's conversations as well as their thoughts, but also brief glimpses into the minds of those around them; their observations of these two without knowing context.
Throughout us readers are confronted with the themes and topics of loneliness, ambition (or lack thereof), expectations in life, regret, connection, legacy, sentiment, devotion, and compliance. One thing that is constantly brought up is a sense of time. While this story is short (260> pages), you yourself feel a loss of perception as well, perhaps due to the ongoing prose without pause you also get that sense of where am I? When am I? In that regard the claustrophobic atmosphere of this story surrounds you and it makes you restless, like Nina.
About 70% in I had my theory about how it would end and I was more or less accurate, but still... if you've read this one please dm me! The whole thing wasn't what I had entirely expected and yet I don't know how I would have wanted it to play out exactly. It's a very curious one, one that if you love literary mind puzzles you may appreciate what Maksik has done here.
Content includes profanity and some vulgar terminology, alcohol consumption, parental abandonment, a brief observation of teens laughing at a video of an assault (vague details)
I started this novel thinking the author was foreign-born, and as he introduced Ivan, 75-year-old father trying to teach his grown daughter one last lesson, I would have sworn I was reading the story of a man who spoke English as a second language. The way he expressed his ideas was always just beyond my grasp. What I thought he meant, I tried to express for myself in American, but I wondered throughout whether I was getting his message. Of course, it's harder to be sure when both main characters are trying as hard as they can not to say what they really mean. (Note: Alexander Maksik was born in America, although he had lived all over the world."
The story is that 75-year-old Ivan, divorced for 12 years from his overwhelming wife Nora, and somewhat estranged from his unhappy 29-year-old daughter, Nina, has decided that he must take Nina to Paris if he hopes to make his difficult, discontented, disconnected child understand how to find a good life. He has convinced himself that if she sees how he lived as a young man alone in Paris, running away from his duty to his father, she will finally see what he cannot put into words. Nina does not want to go, but agrees and promises herself she will be on her best behavior.
The foreshadowing begins early, as the yellow sky is noticed by everyone nervously as they drive to LAX. Ivan and Nina meet and begin their verbal sparring match, which is often very funny and the rest of the time seems futile. Their flight is delayed repeatedly without explanation, and they occupy themselves by doing everything one does in an airport, from getting drunk on tequila shots to using the massage chairs to visiting the chapel, to sneaking into a lounge for first class passengers. As the day progresses, Ivan and Nina become aware that lots of people have come to the airport to catch a flight, but none of them have left. Nor have any of the employees. There are no more announcements at all, the screens are blank, and everybody seems to have gone to sleep on the floor.
The father and daughter agree to walk until they find an exit. The find one, but it is manned by armed military who will not let them pass. The soldiers are as in the dark as everyone else. It is rumored that there has been an earthquake. The internet is down and nobody can make a phone call or send a text. People begin to feel funny. They get glassy eyes and become passive. Ivan and Nina get ever closer to real understanding, but cannot stop trying to get out. The rest of the story is about how they solved their problem and resolved their disagreements.- to the extent that was even possible.
I had to be dragged through this story until I finished, at which point I did the research I should have done before I began. After reading a couple of reviews and an interview with Maksik, I saw the value of the long, long journey through LAX. I changed my rating from 3 to 4 stars. This book is different, but ultimately very well-written and worth the effort. But I do advise that you check out the reviews before you open it.
A well-told two-hander about love, connection and purpose – but not a novel for everyone 4/5
In Passengers, a father and daughter with a somewhat strained relationship are going on a trip to Paris – firmly the father’s idea and a chance for him share his earlier life there and indulge a seemingly endless desire for nostalgia. Their flights are delayed and in the interim, the two of them chat at the airport, giving the reader a view of their relationship, struggles and their feelings about the mother (who is conspicuously absent from their present lives).
Whether or not Passengers is for you really comes down to how interested you are in their relationship and the fears running beneath the surface of both of the characters – there isn’t tons else to this novel. This worked for me, I think mainly because some of what was being slowly revealed (about purpose, direction in life and the effect of how we love on who we love) was insightful and felt believable. It was occasionally repetitive, but people and their relationships with each other often work that way, and tend to be full of contradictions and inconsistencies. It’s also worth noting that neither character is completely sympathetic, which again made them more believable to me, but could definitely mean that some readers grow tired of them (as the characters do with each other occasionally).
Passengers doesn’t have much of a plot, so readers wanting an explanation of the story’s premise will be disappointed. But I don’t want to give the wrong impression that everything here is lacking. While this is very much a story that needs the right reader, for those looking for a character study with depth and nuance, Passengers won’t disappoint.
Finally, a big thank you to Alexander Maksik, Europa Editions and Netgalley for an advance review copy of Passengers, provided in exchange for an honest review.