I know I’m probably going to be alone in this, but I did not enjoy The Time Traveler’s Wife. I had looked forward to reading this book for quite some time, especially as the months went on and I heard more and more raves from friends and fellow book bloggers, not to mention the glowing reviews from mainstream press. I had a copy on my bookshelf, and kept putting it off, like a kid saving that last piece of Hallowe’en candy until months later. I’m glad the book was voted as this month’s selection at The Written Word, because it gave me an excuse to finally pull this one off my shelf and open it, but more importantly, I think there is a lot of fodder for discussion.

The premise itself was intriguing, and in parts I was captivated by the story, but there were just too many aspects that bothered me. First, I didn’t like the main characters, Henry and Clare. Normally not liking characters isn’t a problem for me, as I’m not one of those readers who has to empathize with the characters in order to enjoy the book. But it wasn’t just that I found Henry a sleaze and Clare a pushover, but that they seemed too flat to me, more like two-dimensional cutouts than full-fledged people. At times, I had to flip back to see who was speaking, as they sometimes came across as almost interchangeable. In too many instances, their actions were contradictory or implausible. I never really understood what it was (besides sex and punk music) that bonded these two to one another.

Other things that bugged me:

• I don’t understand why Henry is a librarian. It seems completely arbitrary to me and that there would be a variety of careers that would place him in less contact with other people.
• If he has so little control over the time travel, why has he never disappeared in front of people? In the middle of a crowded classroom? At a job interview? On the subway?
• Why does he feel such aversion to telling people about minute details of their future, for fear that it will affect the outcome, yet he feels no compunction in repeatedly visiting Clare as she grows up, molding her to his life so that she wants no other man but him (and feels an inordinate amount of guilt when she does)?
• The constant punk rock references. It felt to me like they were thrown in (sometimes just listed off) as if the author wanted to show how hip she and/or her characters were. What was the point?

Maybe I read this with too pragmatic a mind, but I didn’t see their romance as particularly compelling or worthy of awe. Clare spent a lifetime waiting for Henry – was he really worth it?