So you want large numbers of people whom you’ve never met to hate you? Curse your name? Call you a soulless, hollowed-out shell who has never known romance? I can help you with that. All you need to do is say something bad about Somewhere in Time – either the Richard Matheson novel from 1975, or the movie adaptation from 1980 with Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour. Go ahead. Say something bad about Somewhere in Time. I dare you. I double-dare you. I triple-dog-dare ya!
Not going to take that dare? You are wise in your generation – for Somewhere in Time is the kind of story that, over time, has built up the kind of singularly devoted fan base that used to be called a “cult following.” This time-travel love story is so proudly and unabashedly romantic, in its setting-forth of a true love that can conquer time itself, that hopeless romantics around the world have given their hearts over to it.
Originally from New Jersey, Matheson built in Southern California his career of writing about the fantastic and the horrifying, often within an otherwise ordinary, contemporary U.S. setting. He wrote episodes of The Twilight Zone, and helped Roger Corman adapt Edgar Allan Poe stories for the screen, as with his screenplay for The Pit and the Pendulum (1961). His own original novels, with the way they combine a bizarre, otherworldly premise with a strong narrative line, have often been adapted for cinema themselves: I Am Legend (1954), The Shrinking Man (1956), A Stir of Echoes (1958), Hell House (1971). Stephen King is foremost among the modern horror writers who have cited Matheson, with gratitude, as a major influence.
For Matheson, an author who was always best known for science-fiction and horror stories, Somewhere in Time was a bold, time-travel-based foray into romantic fantasy. The novel was originally titled Bid Time Return, from a line in William Shakespeare’s play Richard II: “O call back yesterday, bid time return”. I like the Shakespeare allusion, but I suppose Somewhere in Time is a more marketable title.
As Somewhere in Time, or by any other name, this novel tells the story of one Richard Collier, a 36-year-old Los Angeles screenwriter who is terminally ill. Matheson’s own Southern California roots come through in Collier’s decision to spend what time he has left at San Diego’s historic Hotel del Coronado, with its meticulously preserved 19th-century ambiance. While at the Hotel Del, Collier sees a photograph of the eminent 19th-century actress Elise McKenna, and falls hopelessly in love with the image of the long-dead actress (reflecting a scenario that is said to have happened to Matheson himself, at the historic Piper’s Opera House in Virginia City, Nevada).
Becoming hopelessly entranced with Elise’s image, Collier decides that he will try to travel back in time so that he can see her! His method of time travel does not involve any sort of machinery or technology; there will be nothing like the gorgeous brass-and-fixtures steampunk time-travel device that Rod Taylor’s character uses to journey through time in George Pal’s 1960 film version of H.G. Wells’s The Time Machine. Rather, Collier will take a room at the Hotel Del, dress himself in 19th-century clothing, immerse himself completely in the material culture of the period, and will himself back to Elise’s time.
Toward that end, Collier rents a vintage 1896 costume from the San Diego Costume Company, and it is engaging to see the character working out the practical considerations of what seems a hopelessly impractical plan. “I was on the verge of leaving San Diego,” Collier tells us, “when it occurred to me that going back to 1896 well dressed wouldn’t buy me a cup of coffee” (p. 103) – and so he goes to a coin and stamp shop and emerges with a couple of gold and silver certificates.
Strangely enough, Collier’s improbable plan for traveling through time works! He feels “A physical sensation akin to sliding backward through a film”, a “slipping” (p. 107). And then, “My eyes were closed but I was awake and knew I was in 1896” (p. 108). He meets Elise, and their mutual attraction is immediate.
Throughout Somewhere in Time, novelist Matheson is clearly having fun showing how protagonist Collier experiences the unanticipated surprises of time travel. When Collier shakes the hand of one Babcock, a man about whom he has read, Collier observes that “there are few experiences to compare with feeling the sturdy handshake of a man who has been, until that moment, long dead in your mind” (p. 201).
Through protagonist Collier's observations, author Matheson can also offer commentary on the differences between life in the 1970’s and life in the 1890’s. While having breakfast with Elise one morning, Richard sets forth his impressions of dining habits in 1896: “This certainly is an eating age. People get down to the business of digestion first thing in the morning and stay with it all day and into the night” (p. 204).
The course of true love, it is said, never runs smooth; and in the case of Somewhere in Time, the chief obstacle to the love of Collier and Elise is Elise’s manager, William Fawcett Robinson. On the one hand, it is understandable that a conscientious manager for a famous actress would feel a sense of unease at seeing his client’s life suddenly intruded into by some Richard-come-lately from who-knows-where (or who-knows-when); on the other hand, Robinson seems to have long carried, in vain, his own torch for Elise. Whatever his true motivations may be, Robinson shows himself willing to take drastic action to prevent Collier from becoming part of Elise’s life.
But love does eventually blossom between Collier and Elise, leading to passages like this one:
“Oh, my love, my love.” She pressed her cheek to mine. “How can such happiness exist?”
We held each other tightly for a while before she drew back, eyes glistening as she looked at me. “Tell me all about yourself,” she said. “Whatever you can, I mean. I want to love everything you love.”
“Love yourself, then,” I told her.
She kissed me on the lips, then moved her gaze over my features. “I love your face,” she said. “Your nightbird eyes. Your dust-in-sunshine hair. Your gentle voice and touch”…
Smiling, I ruffled her silky hair.
“And I love your smile,” she said. “As though you are getting the humor of something all to yourself.”…
Now, who’s crying? Stop that! I’m not crying, you’re crying!
You get the idea. If a passage like this last one gets you feeling a bit misty and teary-eyed, then Somewhere in Time is for you. If, on the other hand, you find yourself saying something like, “Oh, come on,” then you may want to seek out other reading choices.
The science-fiction reader who enjoys the paradoxes of time travel may appreciate the fate-inflected manner in which the plotline of Somewhere in Time works itself out. And with its unabashed romanticism, Somewhere in Time certainly has the courage of its convictions. Matheson no doubt knew that he couldn’t take a knowing, winking, I’m-really-above-all-this approach to writing Somewhere in Time. With a story and a premise like this, a writer has to go big or go home.
I read Somewhere in Time while on a trip to San Diego. Attending a conference in Coronado, I had the chance to visit (though not stay at) the Hotel Del. Enjoying a lunch at the seaside (excellent fish-and-chips), or walking along the corridors of dark-paneled wood, I couldn’t help observing that the Hotel Del did seem like an excellent place in which to immerse oneself in the lifeways of an earlier age (as novelist Matheson reportedly did, staying at the Hotel Del while writing his novel). I’m not quite sure that I can buy into Somewhere in Time as completely as the book’s legions of fans do, but I will say that Matheson succeeded in crafting a kind of story that was new for him – one that generations of readers, and later moviegoers, came to love.