Written by Audrey Niffenegger
“It’s dark now, and I am very tired. I love you, always. Time is nothing.”
Ok…that wasn’t what I was expecting. Then again, what was I expecting? A sci-fi adventure that could have been a rejected Doctor Who story? A soppy love affair, masquerading pretentiousness with cleverness? An overly-complicated physics thesis, pretending to be an absorbing piece of literature?
It’s none of the above…and so much more.
The first third of this novel is — to be kind — loopy! You’re thrown in at the deep end, a victim of the same random time jumps that afflict the protagonist, Henry. A lightly-stirred sci-fi adventure, tinged with the urban grit of Chicago and the pastroal quiet of a country estate. Various years, various locations, various scrapes, comic situations and frightening moments…whiplashing back and forth across time. The only constant? A young girl named Clare, traveling the slow path, stalked by a kind, fascinating man, who appears from various points in the what-was-to-come. He tantalizes her with the details of their future life together…and luxuriates in the love they seem to have from the moment they meet.
Mind you…perhaps pre-destined love is cheating? Well…that’s where the next third of the novel has its say: the consummation of the Henry/Clare love affair.
This is where the threads of random time jumping come together…as Clare begins to figure out what Henry is about…what his time jumping means to both of them…and how all consuming their love for each other truly is…was…and will be? In the shadow of their courtship, engagement and wedding, a mysteriously dark future beckons, with ominous questions teasing an otherwise exhilerating love story with black, oily tendrils…
The final third unfolds as a Shakespearean tragedy. The scientific investigation into Henry’s abilities…the heart-aching quest to conceive a child…a child who will time travel just like her father…and a pre-destined death that seems to confirm everything Henry believes. Time is a set path you can’t change…you can only adapt to its ebbs and flows, and try to live your life…no matter what the conclusion to that life may be…
This is the only part of the novel that truly bothers me. Is it a polemic about predestination? Is it a love letter to fate & kismet, that seeks to throw the idea of “making your own destiny” into the rubbish bin? I’m not entirely sure about the message…but there is no denying the savage power of this novel to pull at your heartstrings, while simultaneously gripping you with the machinations of its intrictate plotting. They’re planning a movie adaptation, but I can’t see how a film can do justice to the intricate, crystalline fragments that, once assembled, form this fascinating, absorbing, touching novel.
I read The Time Traveler’s Wife — cover to cover — in 24 hours, hooked from start to finish. A relentless, remarkable piece of work.
