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A review by roannasylver
Timekeeper by Tara Sim
5.0
A peculiar ripple traveled up his spine, and the hairs on his body stood on end. It was much like touching the time fibers, brushing a finger across them to feel the yawning of time open and swallow him whole. He was scattered across the cosmos and deep within the earth, within himself and outside of himself. A minuscule star in the infinite sky. A tiny speck of life in the flow of time.
* * *
Sometimes you read a book and love it so much, in so many brilliant and beautiful ways, that when the time (ha) comes to write a review, or even discuss it with a friend, you can't think of a single thing to say, because nothing will even come close.
This was good. And "good" doesn't begin.
The plot has been pretty much covered (and is well-paced with some good twists; I saw them coming but still enjoyed the ride), so I'll just focus on two things I haven't been able to get out of my head since reading. The representation of grief, loss, trauma and PTSD... and the divine, searing, overwhelming pieces of... time.
"I was in an accident. I got out. I'm safe now."
From the first time Danny said those words, that mantra of head-preserving and breakdown-prevention, I knew this was something important. I actually gasped, because I *knew* what was happening here, I knew what had to have happened to him.
Sometimes you don't get out. Even if you do. Even years later. Sometimes you're never really safe.
But reading books like this, that show trauma and healing (even slow, even disjointed, even derailed) with such rawness, honesty, truth and importance... it helps. And the responses to trauma, different and all valid - Danny, his mother, Matthias, and his best friend Cassie (whose interactions I *loved*) have all been through horrible things, and they all respond in different, exceedingly realistic ways.
Sometimes trauma means you live with the scars. Sometimes you deal with them in ways that damage yourself or others. Sometimes it means you never leave home without buckling your seatbelt (and making sure others do the same).
The other piece of this book I adored beyond expression was the nature of time as an all-permeating, universe-vast force. Actually, this is what I sort of imagine "The Force" of Star Wars to be like: an ocean full of crashing waves. Not a spectrum of light and dark, good or evil; time and the Force are neutral parties, a wilderness, a depth that humans have not yet begun to plumb. But the deeper you go, the more of yourself you lose... but oh, the more you SEE.
Some books are like touching the face of God. Or at least tapping into unknowable magnificence, a tidal wave or a storm that threatens to sweep away fragile humanity in its beauty. I live for these glimpses. These fresh lungfuls of clean breath amid stale air. Timekeeper gives us many.
So very recommended.
* * *
Sometimes you read a book and love it so much, in so many brilliant and beautiful ways, that when the time (ha) comes to write a review, or even discuss it with a friend, you can't think of a single thing to say, because nothing will even come close.
This was good. And "good" doesn't begin.
The plot has been pretty much covered (and is well-paced with some good twists; I saw them coming but still enjoyed the ride), so I'll just focus on two things I haven't been able to get out of my head since reading. The representation of grief, loss, trauma and PTSD... and the divine, searing, overwhelming pieces of... time.
"I was in an accident. I got out. I'm safe now."
From the first time Danny said those words, that mantra of head-preserving and breakdown-prevention, I knew this was something important. I actually gasped, because I *knew* what was happening here, I knew what had to have happened to him.
Sometimes you don't get out. Even if you do. Even years later. Sometimes you're never really safe.
But reading books like this, that show trauma and healing (even slow, even disjointed, even derailed) with such rawness, honesty, truth and importance... it helps. And the responses to trauma, different and all valid - Danny, his mother, Matthias, and his best friend Cassie (whose interactions I *loved*) have all been through horrible things, and they all respond in different, exceedingly realistic ways.
Sometimes trauma means you live with the scars. Sometimes you deal with them in ways that damage yourself or others. Sometimes it means you never leave home without buckling your seatbelt (and making sure others do the same).
The other piece of this book I adored beyond expression was the nature of time as an all-permeating, universe-vast force. Actually, this is what I sort of imagine "The Force" of Star Wars to be like: an ocean full of crashing waves. Not a spectrum of light and dark, good or evil; time and the Force are neutral parties, a wilderness, a depth that humans have not yet begun to plumb. But the deeper you go, the more of yourself you lose... but oh, the more you SEE.
Some books are like touching the face of God. Or at least tapping into unknowable magnificence, a tidal wave or a storm that threatens to sweep away fragile humanity in its beauty. I live for these glimpses. These fresh lungfuls of clean breath amid stale air. Timekeeper gives us many.
So very recommended.