Mikki Daughtry explores a philosophical question in her novel Time After Time. As she weaves two stories: that of Elizabeth Post and Patricia Murphy from 1925 and that of Libby Monroe and Tish O’Connell in the present, she asks: Is every life a cycle with no real end, where “time after time,” we come back reincarnated to try again, “to grow, evolve, get new chances . . . to do things better. To do things right” (246)?
Daughtry takes readers on her wondering spree, which begins in the past but threads into the present. A Victorian style house on Mulberry Lane is the lynch pin in this tale. Libby has always been drawn to the Mulberry house, so when she turns 18, she spends her college fund to buy it. Her father considers that decision to be irresponsible and ill-founded. They fight, and he kicks Libby out of his life.
In her new home, Libby discovers quirks that require repair. She also discovers a journal that belonged to the former owner. As she reads, she learns that Elizabeth Post was shackled to a life of propriety when all she really wanted was the excitement of being free to make her own choices. Even though times were changing and the world was new, so much of life in 1925 was still ruled by the patriarchy. As much as Elizabeth resisted, so much remained beyond her ability to change.
When Elizabeth falls in love with Patricia, her personal maid from Ireland, another maid in the house, Sarah, warns her: “You’re playing a dangerous game, Elizabeth. . . . There is no place in this world where this . . . friendship . . . would be accepted. Not one. When it is discovered, and it will be discovered, you will be ruined” (161). Blinded by possibility and by love, Elizabeth isn’t prepared for the outcome.
All this drama unfolds as Libby reads but also experiences déjà vu moments, sensing an uncanny connection that might mean something more. Just as Elizabeth grows up in the pages of her journal, Libby, too, is finding herself, “shedding her meek skin in favor of a new boldness” (183).
Tish, too, has looked upon the Mulberry house as a wonderful project to be improved. Soon, Tish and Libby, who meet in a college course on set building, are working on the house together and falling in love.
These parallel stories share commonalities as well as divergences. Furthermore, Daughtry includes other interesting characters: Joe, Leo, Cam, Lola, Bari Khatri, Hasina, and Tom. All play a role with some interesting intersections. Daughtry also adds a mystery: a piece of green glass in the sidewalk outside the gate of the Mulberry house that reads 236. Readers get a hint that this is a code when Patricia tells a tale about her brothers who would talk in numbers. “The number of letters in the word is the number you speak . . . . For example, I love you would be one . . . four . . . three” (241). Two, three, six becomes the couple’s code, and the decoding contest begins: We are fierce was my incorrect guess since the pair was so bold and brave in tempting fate.
But, as most readers are already aware, “Fate is a cruel mistress, and life doesn’t always play fair” (295). Regardless of that truth, the story is a poignant one as well as a reminder that oppression often has dire consequences. “Anger rose up in Elizabeth for every time she had been dismissed or disregarded. For every time her own wants and needs had been downgraded in favor of a man’s. . . . Elizabeth snapped and whirled on him, shaking with a fury of her own [and shouted], ‘Enough!’” (324).
Because fear often keeps us meek, mild, and silent, Daughtry additionally reminds us that “the shadow of fear is always bigger and scarier than the fear itself” (333). She encourages us, with the experiences of her characters, to face our fears, refusing to give them power. “If I had just turned around and faced [my fear], I would have seen that it was just a pissy little thing, only as strong as I made it. I fed it when I should have starved it. I should’ve faced that fear and given it nothing. That’s all that fear deserves anyway” (333).
- Donna