The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger

Reviewed by Kristin

I may be way behind the curve on this one, but I just read a bestselling book which came out in 2003:  The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger.  Perhaps my time displacement is not so out of line, because this novel is all about time.  Henry DeTamble is a special collections librarian in Chicago who moves about in time.  Ever since Henry was a little boy, he has sudden disruptions in his life when he involuntarily leaps to another time, most often back in his own timeline, often encountering his younger self.

The first time Clare Abshire meets Henry (“first” being a relative term) is when Henry is 36 and Clare is 6.  Henry has stumbled into a large meadow in Michigan in the fall of 1977, but fortunately it’s a nice day, because Henry is not able to bring anything with him as he travels—not even clothing.  A naked adult man popping out of nowhere?  That might be a bit troublesome.

Clare soon learns to expect that Henry may show up in her meadow, so she leaves her father’s cast-off clothing for his convenience.  Their friendship develops, although it can be quite confusing when one party or the other is much more aware of events that have taken place, or will take place, or….well, you can see the difficulties that might arise.  Clare moves through her life sequentially, as most of us do, but Henry just takes life as it comes, whenever it comes.

As you might have guessed from the title of the book, Henry and Clare do marry when she is of an appropriate age—22 to Henry’s 30.

The timelines may be a complete jumble, but Niffenegger does an excellent job making them clear by beginning each chapter (and sometimes each chapter section) with the current date, time, and Henry and Clare’s current ages.  The flow of the narrative is smooth and beautiful, as Henry and Clare find each other at the many stages of their lives.

A movie based on the book came to the big screen in 2009.  Again, I found myself behind the curve, but enjoyed watching the DVD soon after finishing the book.  Surprisingly, the adaption was lovely.  While the movie could not possibly contain everything from the book, it nicely captured most significant parts of the story.

No spoilers, but a quote that hints at the beautiful love story contained within:

            “It’s dark, now, and I am very tired.  I love you, always.  Time is nothing.”

The Night Bookmobile by Audrey Niffenegger

Reviewed by Ambrea

In The Night Bookmobile, Audrey Niffenegger, author of The Time Traveler’s Wife and Her Fearful Symmetry, returns with another haunting story about a young woman and her encounter with a mysterious library on wheels known as the Night Bookmobile.  Found only between the hours of dusk and dawn, the Night Bookmobile houses a comprehensive collection of books on anything and everything that she has ever read.  The narrator, desperate to reconnect with her library, embarks on a journey to find the Night Bookmobile and her memories.

I read The Night Bookmobile at the suggestion of a coworker, and I found I was fascinated by the notion of a library existing that contains every single item that a person has ever read.  Truthfully, I love the idea that every piece of information ever written or read is collected, tucked away in some supernatural library that can only be accessed by the right people.  It’s a concept that has enchanted me for years, since I first encountered the Archive in Jim Butcher’s Dresden File; however, I’m still not sure what to make of the The Night Bookmobile.

Niffenegger’s graphic novel is a curious thing.  It’s not a tragedy, per se, but it isn’t exactly a happy little story about a woman and her library.  It made me think, it made me feel things I’d rather not feel, and it made me question my own mortality—and wonder, what exactly, am I leaving behind when I die?

It’s a bit deeper than I expected.

And, while it’s intriguing, it still left me feeling slightly squeamish.  I mean, as a reader, I love books.  I must have 400 books in my collection at home, not counting the bag I keep packed full of library books or the random copies I keep squirreled away in my desk for a rainy day; however, I don’t believe my adoration of books has ever turned into something decidedly unhealthy.

The narrator of The Night Bookmobile is a young woman who encounters a mysterious library, a collection of books in the back of a Winnebago (sketchy, if you ask me) that reflect each and every book she’s ever read, and it quickly sparks an obsession.  It’s based on a similar tale by H.G. Wells, “The Door in the Wall,” in which a young man becomes consumed by rediscovering the verdant paradise he found behind a mysterious green door.  They have many of the same undertones:  obsession, desperation, an all-consuming need to go back to a time and place that was, in a word, happier.

Like I said, it’s a curious thing and, truthfully, I’m still conflicted.  You see, the narrator takes an action with devastating consequences—and her life is never the same again.  I couldn’t decide if I was bothered more by her decision or by the result, but the entire story raises questions about morality and what really matters in life…and what’s left over for the next generation of readers.

It’s haunting, and, honestly, it made me squirm.  I can’t decide whether I like it, or whether I hate it.  Part of me dislikes it, dislikes the narrator’s actions; however, another part of me is intrigued by the entire thing, by the notion that all books written or read are available somewhere—and that something, however small, is left for the next generation, some semblance of knowledge is always going to exist.

So, yes, I’m conflicted.  As my coworker noted later, The Night Bookmobile is not a book that anyone can read without feeling something, good or bad, and forming a strong opinion about it.

Note:  As Ambrea said, this is a book that leaves a strong impression, either good or bad.  In fact, there were two previous reviews of this book, which you can read here.

The Night Bookmobile: Two Views

There was quite a buzz when it was revealed that Audrey Niffenegger, author of the critically acclaimed The Time Traveler’s Wife, had written and illustrated a graphic novel.  Would it work?  Was it just a gimmick? As with practically any book, the answer to that depends on the reader.  Some have loved it, some have hated it; there are few who are indifferent.  The main point made in many reviews is that this is not a book for children, since many people still equate illustrated story with comics for kids and not another form of literature suitable for adults. This isn’t a children’s book anymore than Cancer Vixen by Mary Acocella Marchetto (a graphic novel detailing a woman’s bout with breast cancer) or the classic Maus by Art Spiegelman, which tells the story of the Holocaust.


As the story opens, Alexandra is walking alone in the wee hours of the morning, having had a fight with her boyfriend.  She sees an old Winnebago and hears music, so she stops to see what is going on.  It’s the Night Bookmobile, the driver tells her, and invites her in.  She browses awhile, then discovers her old diary on the shelves.  She realizes that she has read all the books on the bookmobile.  Of course, she is told, it is her collection.  From this seemingly chance encounter, an obsession is born:  she must unlock the secrets of the bookmobile.  

Here are two viewpoints about the book. First up is Gena:

Even by graphic novel standards, this is a strange piece of work.

I read a lot of graphic novels, though I confess they are usually more of the cape and spandex super hero variety. I respect the literary ambitions of the medium, but I am always a little suspicious when someone from the prose world tries to capitalize on its recent success. Thus, when I first heard that Audrey Niffenegger of The Time Traveler's Wife fame was trying her hand at a graphic novel, I wasn't sure what to expect.

The end result is a disturbing story about the nature of reading and libraries in our lives.

The story is simple enough. The lead character stumbles across a bookmobile on a late night walk. In its collection it has every book she's ever read in her life right down to her own childhood diary. She's drawn to the place and wants to stay, but that is not permitted for reasons that can't be explained. Our heroine obsesses over the
bookmobile and searches for it for years to the detriment of her life and relationships. Eventually she becomes a librarian, and every decade or so, she finds it again. The result is always the same: she cannot stay. Finally, she decides to take drastic measures to change the state of things with unsettling results.

The art is lovely, and while the story is poignant, it is disturbing on a level that makes me question whether or not I want to read as much as I do or ever set foot in a library again!

Jeanne has an alternate view: 

Hmm. . . I will say that I found the story memorable and given that I have the memory of a gerbil, that’s saying something.   It did make me a bit uneasy, but it didn't turn me against books or libraries!  I was more reminded of the lines from the Merle Travis classic, "Dark as a Dungeon":

"Like a fiend with his dope, or a drunkard his wine, a man will have lust for the lure of the mines."

Most of us have obsessions with one thing or another: collecting things, a sport, watching television or whatever.  We spend too much time on that and not as much on the everyday business of living and interacting. We get absorbed and neglect other things, possibly more important things.  I say “possibly” because we can only judge what really IS important for ourselves; Sequoia’s wife, according to legend, burned his first version of the Cherokee writing system because she felt he was wasting too much time on it instead of taking care of his family.  I was intrigued by the whole premise:  just think of it, your own private sanctuary where all you’ve read is stored.

Yet that is also the one aspect that gives me pause as a reader (and I mean as a reader in general, not as a reader of this book):  there are no new books there, nothing that hasn’t already been read. If Alexandra didn’t finish a book, the pages are blank after the point where she stopped.  It’s comfortable and sometimes comforting to reread some books, but wouldn’t you want to read something else once in awhile? Is the Night Bookmobile something that is basically narcissistic, a way of glorifying self?  Is it true that we are what we read?  Or is there something more?

I don’t have the answers to those questions, but I like that the questions are asked.  While I found the ending a bit shocking, I wasn’t repulsed.  I thought in some ways it was more reflective of the old adage, “Be careful what you wish for.” Yet, is the ending bad?  I don’t know. I found the story both sad and oddly hopeful, a passing of the torch as it were.

I’m a bit ambivalent about the art.  I grew up reading comics and am still a fan, though these days I’m more a reader of comic strips than comic books.  I can’t start my day without a cup of coffee while reading 9 Chickweed Lane, Rose is Rose, and several other strips. I have not gotten into magna; I’ve read a few but some of the stylistic conventions are off-putting for me. In The Night Bookmobile, the art varies: in places it’s very flat, rather amateurish looking, while in others it’s beautiful and evocative.  It works to express certain themes in the story, I think, but if I had just picked the book up and glanced through it I don’t know that I would call it beautiful.  The cover I do like a lot, with those wonderful shelves of books and the red carpet looks so inviting: sort of velvety.  It makes me want to sit right down on it and start looking at the books.