Author: Dinah Kolka. Dinah is the founder of Decadent Serpent and a graduate of Edinburgh Napier University with a BA(Hons) in English Literature. Her work has been featured in publications such as The Salisbury Review and The Mallard. She was also published in the Scottish Book Trust’s 2018 anthology Rebel. In 2023, Dinah self-published her own collection of short stories, The Search and Other Stories.

One of my favourite quotes by Friedrich Nietzsche has always been this snippet from The Gay Science ‘But what if pleasure and pain should be so closely connected that he who wants the greatest possible amount of the one must also have the greatest possible amount of the other, that he who wants to experience the “heavenly high jubilation,” ^* must also be ready to be “sorrowful unto death”?^*’

It is a quote that I put on every rendition of the novel that I keep rewriting, the novel I struggle so hard to articulate, likely simply, because I haven’t lived through it all yet, just like Robin Fitzwarwick, the protagonist of The Passenger, who wrestled with ‘All is Well in Winter Days’ all his life too.

Perhaps this is why this novel has touched me so violently, without expectation. I consider myself an extremely fussy reader – snobbish and relentlessly in pursuit of something that punches me in the gut, having been brought up on my Fante’s and Joyce’s. I seem to gravitate towards prose that does not reward me very well for it, the prose that strikes hot blades into my heart with each sentence I read.

And this is precisely what S.D. Wickett has done. The novel is a masterpiece from start to finish and I have to yield as a writer myself and admit the truth. As I commenced reading, I immediately felt thrown into the deep end, I simply couldn’t stop. It felt like reading the familiar masters of old – Joyce, DH Lawrence, or Fante. It is important to note for anyone who may be intimidated by the size of the novel – these 500 pages read faster than many novels that are often far shorter. The margins are wide, and the text is narrow. I will be eternally grateful for that one since it let me sprawl my notes and highlights all over the margins.

The Passenger written by S.D. Wickett was released on the 1^st of September, by Bournbrook Press. The story follows a young promising writer, Robin Fitzwarwick throughout his life until his death (this is not a spoiler by itself – he writes the story of his life on his deathbed, making peace with his past as well as the mistakes and achievements of his existence). Robin is a unique protagonist and as we get to know him further, we find that he is a well-rounded character, with a solid origin story. He lives through many trials and tribulations, many of his own making, or from simply ‘letting life happen to him’. This is a cautionary tale, but the key moral is simply to live your life to the best of your ability and choose to be in the driver’s seat.

We view the world solely through Robin’s eyes which compounds the feeling of isolation and seclusion of the main character. At times, I wished for more descriptions of the places he visited, especially during his stay in Montenegro, I was hoping for more detail on how the travels mirrored his state of mind. At the same time, in a way, we did see this – with Robin being so closed off to what was in front of him, we too are robbed of the opportunity to discover these places. In itself, this becomes a very clever narrative device – written in the first person, we are stuck in the confines of Robin’s outlook.  

The book is characterised by many amusing moments, such as euphemisms for affairs ‘I visit Cynthia from time to time. Cynthia has secrets of her own.’ or the repeated joke of Robin’s perfect novel’s title ‘All is Well in Winter Days’ consistently being remembered incorrectly by people around him. But this sprinkle of humour helps to cope with the far darker themes encapsulating the novel – the dark shadow of death and illness, the decay of cultural institutions, as well as the deterioration of England.

Set on the backdrop of English and European cities, we nonetheless come to explore the slow and progressive decay of London over the span of 40 years, between the 50s all the way to the early 90s. Wickett masterfully paints a picture of the changing face of England, familiar to anyone who either lived through the times or had a chance to read Peter Hitchens’ book titled The Abolition of Britain, where the author goes into detail on the changes that occurred in the country since WW2. We watch as the aristocracy fades into irrelevance and new money becomes more important than class. The subtlety of the references to the changes that occur in Britain is reminiscent of DH Lawrence, as similarly to him, Wickett seemed to have been able to skillfully interweave strong characters with relevant themes on England’s cultural demise.

But this is not only a story of life or a love letter to a dying nation – the novel presents compelling themes of redemption, love, a fleeting pursuit of happiness, isolation, displacement, and the importance of creating memories as ‘he who has lived shall become one with his recollections, for memory is the only evidence of life.’ These themes come through naturally, and not forcefully. There is a strong appreciation for good art, literature, and music with solid explanations for this – the love for these things is as important as the love we may have for a romantic partner.

In terms of style, Wickett masterfully shows his stylistic brilliance in many ways. Some dialogue reads like Joyce’s, and so does the subject matter. The opening dialogue between Richard, Robin, and Francis (Fucksby) is an eloquent and witty dialogue which is both amusing and highly informative about the characters we grow accustomed to within the story.

The Passenger, in its narrative, is reminiscent of Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. It’s essentially a bildungsroman, with an epiphany nearing the end. However, in the case of Robin Fitzwarwick, this epiphany comes too late in life in order to be cherished enough. And I suppose this is what makes this story so harrowing – we watch Robin as he proceeds headfirst into the many choices that are going to stain him forever, which once again, makes this a fantastic cautionary tale for all of us.

A review, however, would not be a review without pointing out some minor issues – extremely minor, however, for a debut novel. Besides slight editing issues, and sprinkles of some grammar and punctuation errors, the novel would have benefited from tighter pacing and sometimes better connecting of the plot points. These issues are so minor, however, that they do not affect the flow, style, or content of the novel. Many debut writers make far graver errors, and most of the issues likely relate to the editing, rather than writing itself.

Overall, the novel had a very strong impression on me. Wickett’s writing style is highly sophisticated and elegant and exudes pure skill and craftsmanship in writing. There were no plot holes, and there were no dull parts – the novel as a whole was a genuine pleasure to read. It was harrowing at times, but it also brought joy. And above all – it brought a very strong message of hope. It is often an issue with debuts where writers have a tendency to mercilessly overfill the cup of misery with no respite, but this was not the case here. This novel deserves great recognition, and I genuinely hope to see more of Wickett’s writing in the future. I can only say this word of caution to young S.D. Wickett – ‘Be careful, Icarus!’

You can buy a copy of The Passenger here.