Time-travel is a tricky subject, both to read and to write about. When done well, time-travel stories can be suspenseful and thrilling. Hermione’s Time-Turner adventures, even with their flaws, taught me how much character writing can impact a time-travel plot. More recently, The 7 1/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle set up an unputdownable Golden Age mystery. And Loki has excelled by using time travel to perfectly characterize complex characters.

Many of my favorite time-travel stories have this “soft” approach. They set up some basic constraints around time travel – in which direction(s) can characters go? How do they deal with the time paradox? – and then get on with examining the human element. The most successful sci-fi/fantasy stories are those that engage me enough to keep my disbelief completely suspended. And so, when I learned about Kaliane Bradley’s new time-travel story, The Ministry of Time, I had high hopes.

The Ministry of Time bills itself as part romance, part spy thriller, and part workplace comedy. It follows a government employee (a “bridge”) in the near-future Ministry of Time, supporting the acclimation of one of the first ever time travelers. Over the course of a year, Commander Gore must learn to live in the present – but with so much change to absorb, and a mysterious force out to get him, will he and his bridge make it through? There’s a lot of human story to explore here, and I was excited to dig in and read Bradley’s take. (Many thanks to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for the gift copy!)

Wait, wait, wait… then hurry

The Ministry of Time promises the reader a lot of content. It’s firstly billed as a romance, and our bridge narrator certainly admires her ward. There there’s the spy thriller, AND the workplace comedy besides. And the fundamentals of a good time travel story, including the requisite surprise at technology, etc. It’s a lot to jam in to 300 pages.

Bradley does her best, but I found that the pacing of the story left a bit to be desired. In the early part of the novel, the writing focuses mainly on the relationship between Gore and his bridge. And to a certain degree, this makes sense, as Bradley has a lot to establish and explore. How would a nineteenth-century explorer react to the present-day? How would time-travelers in general react to each other? Why do these relationships even matter to us as readers? Are they worth preserving?

But by the middle of the novel, I found myself wondering where 2/3 of my promised genres were. Without getting too deeply into spoilers, all this early scene-setting means that the spy thriller elements are merely hinted throughout much of the early narrative. As for the workplace comedy – much of the comedy comes from the situational humor of displaced time-travelers. I suppose technically that’s all our bridge’s “workplace” – but The Office, this ain’t.

Genre tradeoffs

To some degree, this is not unexpected. Each of the advertised genres engages a totally different, often conflicting set of emotions. Romance requires vulnerability, depth of emotion, and personal, intimate relationships. Spy thrillers are fast-paced and suspenseful, with a strong sense of something big at stake. And office comedies, even the darker ones, require a tongue-in-cheek view at a workplace with fairly stable patterns – hard to do in a story set at a new government division.

It’s tough to balance all three: the personal and intimate with the grandeur of a spy thriller, the irony of a workplace comedy with the sincerity of romance. And Bradley chooses the personal route, focusing primarily on the romantic elements at the expense of both other genres. This is mostly a story of a time-travel romance, with a bit of action and adventure thrown in, and a workplace to add a delaying constraint. And there’s nothing wrong with that, per se, but for the surprise of it from the marketing. Readers of this blog willl know how much I dislike a bait-and-switch… So know, friends, that The Ministry of Time leans heavily on the romance, with a little bit of other genres thrown in for flavor.

Personal thoughts, exposed

The plus side of that romantic lean is a strength I wasn’t expecting: the personal storytelling. Bradley, a British-Cambodian writer, writes what she knows. Her protagonist is also British-Cambodian, and some of the most intriguing writing in the novel explores that identity and all that it confers. Bradley expends pages on what it means to be white-passing, how her peers react when they learn of her heritage. She writes about her character’s complicated relationship to her family history, and to her sister’s exposition of family stories. And she weaves an intriguing storyline with a Black co-worker, who reaches out in the hopes of minority solidarity in this strange government workplace.

These explorations come in bits and pieces and felt like the most realistic and deeply-considered writing in the novel. It feels like Bradley is weaving in real stories of real people, and I wanted to learn more about this family and its history. I also wanted to understand how her protagonist’s biracial identity might intersect with her relationship and her work – but Bradley, unfortunately, keeps this at a surface level.

Reader’s notes and rating (⭐️⭐️⭐️✨)

I wanted to love this book. Instead, I merely liked it – as a fun romance, with a bit of an action twist. I will likely pass it on to friends who really enjoy time travel stories, especially those with more of a character focus (including my partner) but am unlikely to revisit myself. Great for those who know (and like) what they’re getting into – three and a half stars.

The Ministry of Time was published on May 7, 2024.

*This will meet “has a sticker on the cover” for my 52 Book Club challenge this year!