BookBrowse Reviews Time's Mouth by Edan Lepucki

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Multigenerational trauma haunts time travelers in Edan Lepucki's engrossing novel.

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Edan Lepucki's novel Time's Mouth explores how trauma can linger in a family, its effects passed down through successive generations. At the age of sixteen, Sharon discovers she can transport herself into her past, beginning with her reliving the "happiest day of her life" – the day of her father's funeral, three years earlier. She finds she's able to observe and feel what her younger self is feeling, but not to change the scene in any way. As her ability to time travel improves, she decides to run away from home, abandoning the mother who did nothing to protect her from abuse. She moves to California, adopts the name Ursa, and ultimately creates a cult, her power drawing other women with troubled pasts. The novel's focus then shifts to Ray, Ursa's son, and Cherry, another child born on the cult's compound, who in turn abandon Ursa in search of a "normal life" together. Finally, the story moves to their daughter, Opal, who has inherited Ursa's time-traveling gift – or is it a curse? As teenage Opal seeks to understand her talent, she discovers painful truths about her family.

The story unfolds over four decades, and Lepucki brilliantly recreates each era, from California's counterculture movement in the 1960s to the Y2K concerns of 1999. The plot is both complex and involving; it's one of the more inventive storylines I've encountered in quite some time, and I was rapt from start to finish. In addition to exploring intergenerational trauma, the author probes issues surrounding parenting and abandonment.

Lepucki's characters are marvelous as well, three-dimensional and exquisitely penned. Each is deeply scarred, and one of the most engaging aspects of the novel is the ways in which they allow that long-held trauma to manifest over time. Their simmering, unacknowledged resentment is palpable. Ursa's metamorphosis from a damaged teen to powerful cult leader, in particular, is a fascinating transformation.

Perhaps the most exceptional part of the book, though, is Lepucki's ability to imbue her story with a subtle ambiance of malevolence. There's an undercurrent of unease, the feeling that something's just not quite right, but the reader can't put their finger on what's off-kilter; it's only at the book's conclusion that they recognize the monster that's been hiding under the bed all along.

Overall, the book's pacing is excellent, and I found it hard to put down. However, there are a few sections involving Ray's attempt at therapy which seemed somewhat incongruous with the rest of the narrative. The author included these chapters to introduce an important plot device called an Orgon Accumulator (see the Beyond the Book), but in addition to slowing down the story, they seem out of step with the concerns debated through the rest of the novel. But that's a minor quibble about what is otherwise a stellar work.

I loved Time's Mouth from the get-go, but as time passes, I find myself appreciating it even more. I'm realizing there were all these little nuances that made the novel a truly extraordinary read. I highly recommend it to any reader who enjoys quality fiction. Book groups will find many great discussion topics here as well.

This review was originally published in The BookBrowse Review in August 2023, and has been updated for the September 2024 edition. Click here to go to this issue.