Down by the Pacific Coast Highway, tucked between the mountains and the sea, is the story of the Riva family in Taylor Jenkins Reid’s Malibu Rising. The story is packed full of old hollywood lore and 1980s California flair as it flashes between the history of the Riva family and the fateful day where a family party left Nina Riva’s home up in flames.
This is my final read to get up to date on the Taylor Jenkins Reid shared universe (the Reidiverse? The taylorverse?), and its multi-perspective family drama stacks up with rich historical context and deep characters to unwind the tale of love and loss that led to the famous Riva bash gone wrong.
For lovers of a family drama—think the intergenerational threads of hardship in Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko, the complex navigation of famly and society in Austen’s Sense and Sensibility, and the difficulty of navigating loss in Celese Ng’s Everything I Never Told You—the part bildungsroman, part tragedy, part mystery piece of historical fiction is sure to excite.
There are many windows into the Riva family throughout the story, from absent father and starpower father Mick Riva, to the young and exploring Kit Riva. The glue of the Riva family, much like the glue of the story, is Nina Riva, a famous surfer and model, eldest child of Mick. The practical, groinded, family-centric, selfless character of Nina intrigues as readers are forced to watch her shoulder the burdens of being the eldest daughter in a crumbling family.
Malibu Rising asks readers to interrogate what, exactly, parenthood means, as we see it reflected (or not reflected) in the traits of numerous characters in the text, but especially in Nina as she finds herself working tirelessly from her youth to bind the family together. The eldest daughter in a parental role is not an unfamiliar one in literature, and I saw in Nina shades of characters from a multitude of literary landscapes—from Meg March in Little Women to Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games and, in my most recent reading, Mallory Greenleaf in Check, Mate.
Aesthetically, the book is sun and sand and beach houses, but it highlights interesting systemic issues of wealth gaps and Malibu gentrification. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the homes featured in the story, from the original Riva home to Nina’s cold cement house on the coast. To me, the houses signify roots and experience. Whether good or bad, our homes reflect us and our relationships. It’s interesting to read this book and consider how the settings reflect the relationship dynamics and the stark class changes.
As with all her other books, Reid is a master of rich and fascinating historical fiction. But where Malibu Rising shines is the characters, the connections, and the story of family, in whatever state of crisis it moves through.
Check out my other TJR Reviews:
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Cool post. I subscribed. Have a happy day
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