This is huge, even too much; beautiful, funny, interesting, seminal. A wonderful novel, so fantastic and so deeply true.
Henry and Clare, timeless love, the mystery of life and death, of permanence and existence, of each here-and-now hopping through an unpredictable timeline.
He time-travels, she waits for him in her present, but she's already met him somewhere in the past and will find him again in the future. His lifestream is uneven as its tale, but time- and age-hints heading each chapter help the reader through it.
Actually, human beings are chrono-displaced by default; our emotional memory is, at any rate. Henry, in a way, embodies this condition.
Compelling as the plot is, it also carves our soul, affecting all that really really matters. Pulse, wishes, fulfilment, and frustration. Magic and loss, the bittersweet taste of this everyday adventure, whose true essence seems to glimpse at our life now and then, brightening hard times with enchantment every time we realize that time is nothing.