The Time Traveler's Wife (i.e., The Difference Between Women and Men)

My Aunt Linda recommended Audrey Niffenegger's novel The Time Traveler's Wife a few months ago.  Relatives and friends of librarians often recommend it, because one of the two main characters is a librarian (and a male straight librarian, to boot.)  I started reading the book, and was sort of into it but not really swept away. It's about a love story between a man who travels through time at random and a woman who lives a sequential life. You have to suspend disbelief, and perhaps that's harder for me than I realized.

Some minor delights: the book is mostly set in Chicago, in parts of the city Helen and I used to explore. Niffenegger did some of her research at the Evanston Public Library (where I worked as a Northwestern student) and Bookman's Alley in Evanston (where I browsed as that same student.)

I had to return the book to the Berkeley Public Library before finishing; I couldn't renew because it was on hold. Yesterday a UCSF colleague loaned me her personal copy, so now I can finish at my leisure.

Whatever I might think of the book, I've been fascinated by the reaction it's generated among female readers of the N Judah train I take on my commute home from UCSF.  During my first reading stint, one evening I stood on a crowded train struggling to keep my balance while reading fragments of the novel.  Suddenly a woman exclaimed to me, "I love that book!!" She wasn't close enough to talk with easily, but I tried to acknowledged her delight.

Last night--during the second reading stint--I was fortunate to have a seat on the train. A woman across the aisle said, "You're reading Time Traveler's Wife? My mom and sister say it's one of their favorite books."  We talked a little while; she seemed like an independent soul who didn't want recommendations from family members.  During the conversation she recommended another book (Murakami's Kafka on the Shore), which I have been meaning to read. Eventually our pleasant exchange ended, when the N Judah reached Civic Center and I transferred.

Let's look at this history: Aunt Linda recommended the book. A female colleague loaned me her copy. Two female strangers on the train talked to me about it, with one referencing the opinions of two other women.  No men at all in this tale, except me holding a copy of the book.

Conclusion: Time Traveler resonates much more strongly with women than men, so strongly that it overcomes the taboo against talking to strangers on the train. Even if that stranger is a dude--he can't be dangerous if he's reading this book. This has never happened with any other book I've ever bandied about, so I think there's something to this.