( continues...)
And then, if when there are wonderful moments, really good - no, great - ones, then borrowing strength and spirit from them when things are rough, or even just routine and meaningless and grey - that's some sort of time travel in and of itself, isn't it?
I loved the aspect of longing, of yearning, that was woven all throughout the book. Missing, lack of being-there, that makes the love grow stronger. Sometimes even more than actually being together.
Her art works, the birds, are actually works of yearning. All of her essence as a grownup - her art - was designed by Henry, his absence, her waiting, all the different types of it.
And the book is full of it, not just towards the time-traveler, but to everybody who's missing. Claire's grandmother, who lost a brother at war, simply says "this is how it is, right?". Henry himself misses his dead mother, what his father could have been without the accident. Each person has their own yearnings and missing-somebody-s to feel. The only difference seems to be the "technical" element which creates that emotion and sets it in motion.
Does she love him so much, among other reasons, because he keeps disappearing? Because he's always missing, and there's never enough of him? Because it seems like he loves her, among other reasons, for being so present, right?
In fact, when her mother passed away, that was the first time he has ever experienced the yearning for somebody, who is supposedly with him, but actually isn't. The same longing that pretty much defined her life.
Oh, and Claire's mother wrote about her that she "belongs to herself". And, in real life, that is what I imagine every parent may feel, and yet here it's more emphasized, stands out more, since throughout all her childhood, Claire belonged, in a way, to Henry, to the one who will be connected to her directly, her husband.
And Charise (sp?), married to a man who is in love with another woman, who raises a family with him, she's in that same state of constant waiting, just like Claire . She's waiting to be loved, to be left, for something, anything, to happen and change the delicate balance. So it's a different kind of wait and longing, but it's still there. And again, it isn't anybody's fault, and yet still painful. All these waitings, all this past being present, all those yearnings, all that hope.
And I loved it that the book was named after Claire, the wife, and not the time-traveler himself. She was the real heroine of the story! Without her he wouldn't have survived in his present, regardless of the time-traveling, because of himself, not because of the shifts in time. And yes, part of the fact that she's so strong and patient is thanks to her learning to be like this, as a girl, from him. It's stemming from how she defines herself around him. And still.
I mean, driving, for example, is a good demonstration of this. He can't drive, because he worries about disappearing in the middle of the road, so she's the one who drives for him. And yet, there's also the running - he controls his body, as much as he can, at least then. Until, well, he can't. Poor guy.
And I do hope that, despite all the self-definition through waiting, Claire managed to build herself a life without Henry. Even if it all pointed itself to the moment in which she knew she'd see him again, as an old woman, I hope that she managed to love, even differently, other men. Even parent more children. Get free of that cycle, experience life as present in it, as a linear line, even for a short while, even if she can't help but get back to the waiting that defined her so.
Why, yes, I am a sap, didn't you realize that already? And a rambling one, at that, too. Sigh. Sorry.
OK, back to reality, no matter how many words in how many large paragraphs I try to throw at it.