One of the wonderful elements of science fiction is its vastness, a notion emphasized by our two recent readings. The New Scientist Book Club has transitioned from Larry Niven’s classic hard sci-fi piece, Ring World, to Kalian Bradley’s Time Saving, which we’ll delve into this June. The former rigorously engages with scientific principles, while the latter takes a more relaxed approach.

The narrative revolves around an obscure civil servant tasked with assisting historical figures—specifically, the Victorian explorer Commander Graham Gore from 1847. Time Saving intertwines elements of thrillers, romance, and touches of climate fiction, making it an engaging read. Although I adored it, the conclusion left something to be desired, which I’ll elaborate on later. For now, let’s explore the sci-fi elements of the book.

In Bradley’s interpretation, time travel serves as a plot device; it facilitates the transition of characters from the past to contemporary settings. As she notes, “Once you start contemplating the physics of time travel, you’ve entered a tricky realm.” I don’t necessarily view her reluctance to clarify time travel as a weakness—after all, even our greatest physicists have yet to fully understand it, a sentiment shared by many.

“I accepted time travel as a given and shaped the primary plot around it. In the end, it’s approached similarly to numerous other sci-fi narratives.” Facebook Group. “Ultimately, this emphasis on plot and character development made me feel that the novel transcended mere science fiction, transforming into a story set against a sci-fi backdrop.”

Pauline Moncrief, who previously engaged with Time Saving, praised Bradley’s portrayal of time travel as “spot-on” due to its exploration of the paradoxes surrounding it—questions like, “What happens if you travel back and eliminate your grandfather?” This intriguing concern worked well. “Thus, I appreciated the author’s decision to smoothly bypass the technical hurdles typically associated with time travel,” she remarked.

Kristen Millard Shore expressed similar sentiments: “I appreciated the author’s casual handling of time travel—’Let’s not overthink this’ was refreshing.” However, Gosia Furmanik felt differently. While she enjoyed the prose’s creativity and vividness, she found the main plot confusing and felt it lacked urgency until the very end. For someone looking for a focused sci-fi exploration, she wondered if the romance and themes of immigration and identity overshadowed the genre elements.

Gosia might have a point, but I found the romance to be a highlight of the novel, even developing an affection for Commander Gore (which Bradley seemed to share—check out my interview with her for more on this historical crush). As a fan of romantic narratives, I found this aspect delightful. Others echoed my feelings, too.

“I usually don’t gravitate towards romance in books, but I found it well-executed here. Nevertheless, I felt the story encompassed more than just romance; it was enriching overall.”

Phil Gurski, however, took a different stance: “While I enjoyed the concept, it leaned more toward romance than sci-fi,” he noted. “The lengthy sex scene felt unnecessary.” Despite this divergence of opinions, I cherished many aspects of Time Saving, particularly Bradley’s subtle yet brilliant humor. The contrast of a character from the 19th century grappling with modernity—whether it’s Spotify or dishwashers—provided a delightful layer to the storytelling.

“I found myself laughing aloud numerous times,” Kristen concurred. “Especially during the conversations among the female characters about chicken wallets!” The chicken wallet scene was memorable and the interactions among the characters stood out. I found myself smitten, much like Margaret Kemble and Graham Gore did in 1665.

Gosia nodded in agreement regarding the humor: “Initial moments were quite amusing, like the EastEnders reference, but at times, that tone was overshadowed, leading to inconsistencies that detracted from my enjoyment.”

Now, let’s discuss the ending. Provision. Spoiler alert for those who haven’t finished yet! The revelation that Adela was a future version of our narrator caught me off guard, adding an engaging twist that prompted me to revisit earlier elements of the story with this new perspective. I believed these elements held up, though the rapid pace towards the conclusion felt a bit jumbled, especially since I was invested in the romance. I recognize the inherent “time travel” aspect of the story, but I still hoped for more closure.

David Jones echoed my feelings: “I finished and felt disappointed. I loved the characters and believed they deserved a more satisfying ending.” Alan pondered, “Does the author’s craftsmanship with engaging, thoughtful narratives get compromised by editorial constraints?” He felt the conclusion appeared forced and disconnected from the author’s original vision.

“By the 80% mark, I was questioning, ‘Where is this going?’ The narrative seemed too precious until the end, without sufficient payoff.”

Phil shared his thoughts in a Facebook group, stating that the next session’s readings should return to genuine science (fiction), with Lake of Darkness—a paper edition exploring black holes and their mysterious signals—on the horizon. Adam has penned brilliantly insightful essays for our readers, while Emily H. Wilson, a reviewer for New Scientist, expressed her fondness for Lake of Darkness upon its hardcover release, calling it “smart, experimental, and full of imaginative ideas,” eagerly anticipating the journey into an advanced future.