Malibu Rising

Taylor Jenkins Reid might be my favourite guilty pleasure this summer. I’ve read two of her eight novels so far, and both have been hard to put down, satisfyingly romantic and full of well rounded characters - Reid has a knack for giving the people what they need in these trying times.

Malibu Rising is about a family of four siblings growing up beach-side under difficult circumstances, with an absent famous father, an increasingly drunk but doting mother and most important of all - surfboards. Reid has given each sibling a solid, values-driven perspective built from their complex context; Nina is empathic and selfless, Jay is loyal and ego-driven, Hud is caring and perceptive, Kit is fierce and ambitious. As the storyline develops, so do each of the characters and their nuanced relationships. The plot line is predictable, but that kind of feels besides the point - you’re rooting too hard for the family.

She had to choose what, of the things she inherited from the people who came before her, she wanted to bring forward. And what, of the past, she wanted to leave behind.

I think it takes a particularly skilled author to set an entire novel over just one day, and Reid has absolutely nailed that in this book. The first half of the story is seven am to seven pm, the second half seven pm to seven am. It’s a great mechanism when put to work in tandem with very short chapters - it’s no wonder I read it in a couple of hours. I also really love that there are characters in this book that also featured in The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo and I suspect some from Daisy Jones too - though I haven’t read that one yet. Reading her books feels like your really stepping back into the seventies America of the rich and famous; it’s pure, hedonistic escapism.

My final highlight is the representation of women in this novel, which spans such a fantastic spectrum. Everyone is given back story and layers of personality, she doesn’t shy away social class, race (though this isn’t as present), sexuality or social status. It’s the America of LSD, movie star dreams and cocaine-fueled affairs - but that doesn’t mean stop Reid from adding in a line or two to explain that Carrie Soto isn’t a bitch for making a scene at her lover’s wife’s party (she’s just heartbroken and outspoken). It’s a canny technique, moving away from the habit of binary female characters and into the fullness of humanity.

Special thanks to Suzy for lending this gem of a read, big hugs.

CW: Death, drug-use, explicit scenes.