16/09/17: Walter Lord – A Night to Remember (1955)

For many, this is the definitive account of the sinking of the Titanic. Walter Lord weaves together multiple survivor stories in a novelistic manner that comes across like a fast-paced thriller. It's a breathless read, and sometimes you crave the detail and analysis of a more considered study. But he does an excellent job of reconstructing those legendary two hours and 40 minutes (and the immediate aftermath) – hitting the iceberg, the initial refusal to believe anything was wrong, the slow realisation that the damaged ship was sinking, the frantic and pitiful struggle to find room in the few lifeboats available, the horrible decisions about who should or shouldn't stay for those who followed the "women and children first" code of ethics and those who didn't, the band playing on the deck as the waters rose, the terrible scenes as the Titanic went under and the only partially full lifeboats rowed away from the freezing, drowning victims all around them, the long, cold night spent by the survivors drifting in the icy Atlantic, and their eventual recovery by the Carpathia.

For the most part, Lord avoids judgement and focuses on the narrative. He does, however, indicate that the real villain in the story is the class system that condemned to death not only the men in steerage, but also the women and children there. In percentage terms, more first-class males survived than third-class children – an appalling statistic that underlines how the privileged usually make the system work for them while leaving less fortunate souls to sink.

(Note: while reading this, I was continually reminded of the 1982 top 10 hit "A Night to Remember" by Shalamar – not really a suitable soundtrack.)

09/09/17: Frances Wilson – How to Survive the Titanic, or, The Sinking of J. Bruce Ismay (2011)

Bruce Ismay was the chairman of the White Star Line shipping company, which was responsible for the creation of the Titanic. He was on the famously "unsinkable" ship when it sunk on its maiden voyage in 1912. Rather than observing the "women and children first" policy – the so-called Birkenhead Drill – he escaped on a lifeboat while 1,500 drowned in the icy waters of the North Atlantic. When the inquiry began into why the ship sank and who was to blame, Ismay found himself scapegoated by the press and the public.

It was Ismay's decision to sacrifice the number of lifeboats on the deck for aesthetic reasons: they made the ship look cluttered. As a result: "The Titanic had lifeboat capacity for 1,100 of the 2,340 passengers and crew on board, but only 705 people were saved, of whom 325 were men." He didn't help himself by having an aloof manner and appearing not to understand the gravity of the situation when questioned.

This book expertly tells his story. For every account of what happened on the ship there is another, conflicting account and it is likely that no one will ever know for sure exactly how those two hours and 40 minutes of terror played out.  

Frances Wilson is a literary critic and often draws parallels between Ismay's life and great works of fiction. I liked this aspect of the book, but it might be a distraction for those seeking a "pure" biographical account. In particular, she focuses on similarities with Conrad's Lord Jim ("a difficult read"), whose plot is neatly summarised as "Jim jumps from a sinking ship and then faces a life without honour". She even suggests that Conrad's narrator Marlow should have been the one telling Ismay's story rather than allowing it to be assembled by a set of contradictory witness reports: “It is only when we place Ismay's crude, monotonous, absolutely unfinished narrative next to that of Lord Jim that his form begins to thicken, his blood to flow and his consciousness to take on an essential extra layer."

The book cannot answer all the questions it sets itself. What did happen that night? What would you do in that situation? Humans are incredibly complex; not riddles to be solved. But it's an intelligent, thought-provoking work of historical biography and literary criticism, and in exploring these questions Wilson offers refreshing insights into how any of us might behave when the ordinary and extraordinary come together.