Well! That was a wild ride. This book is not for those of you who hate non-linear, rambling, chaotic, surreal, fragmentary, stream-of-consciousness type of fiction. The "plot" is pretty insignificant and, by design, nonsensical. It's unsettling and satisfying at the same time. There was a moment in the middle when I thought it really had lost me, but after that ending (incredible!), thinking back, it makes a bit more sense ... sort of! But that's the point, I think.

Time Shelter is all about the human tendency to find comfort in the past. When the present is too incoherent, ominous, foreboding, the past is where  people find their shelter: 

The past and nostalgia may be comforting and helpful to individuals, but what happens when a whole society is imprisoned by the allure of the past, glorifying narratives that may or may not be "true"? 

The book is at its most disorientating when it zooms out, to society as a whole (well, European society). I think this was the part of the book that lost me. Apologies if this next paragraph ends up not making much sense. I'm trying to write without spoilers and it was already hard to follow in the book.

I understand that this part of the book was a critique on the European right-wing nationalism of today, and the tendency to use glorification of certain moments of the past, as a political tool in the present. But the way Gospodinov tried represent this tendency was truly outlandish, and I struggled to wrap my head round it. I can see how there are individuals or groups in society that latch onto certain points in the past (particularly, points in the 20th century) as quote-unquote "better" than today, but is that true for the majority of citizens? Especially those the most marginalised. I think "nostalgia", on this societal scale anyway, is actually quite unfamiliar to the marginalised. The 20th century was horrendous for the vast majority of them at various different points (maybe every point?), so wanting to do something quite like this, even just as a theoretical exercise, seems baffling to me.

Furthermore, there were definitely some historical and political references that went over my head, as well as numerous references to other literature. I can see a re-read of this in the future being useful, now I know the overriding theme of the book.

Personally, I think the book was most successful when it focused on individual stories. Either that of the narrator, or other unnamed characters he may or may not have met. I read, re-read, and wrote down so many wonderful passages from these parts of the book. A lot of difficult themes are covered; aging, illness, and death. This passage, on grief, as an example, felt very real to me:

I also love reading meta books on writing itself, so this book definitely scratched that itch for me.

All in all, an overwhelming read with a lot to process, and I can see my rating changing as I mull over the numerous ideas it presented. Very much recommended though, as I don't think I've ever read anything quite like it before.

the first 100 pages of this book were the best piece of literature I've read this year (or in a long time), then the story kind of lost itself in the middle (it felt like the author was trying to cram too much facts and reality into such an unrealistic small space) and then the ending almost managed to save the situation.

Unexpected. 

I think the blurb of the book does not do it justice. I would say that what it was advertised as is not necessarily what the book is.

It took a while for me to get into this. It has a lot of history and politics in it. I was a little disappointed that more of it wasn’t about these ‘clinics of the past’. However, that’s likely from the poor description of what you’re picking up.

I like it. Particularly in the last third of the book. It hits you with an interesting development. It would probably be more appealing to a person with a greater appreciation for European history and politics.

This book managed to utterly intrigue and completely bore me at the same time. The narrator (or dare I say author?) uses fiction to explore some interesting ideas about the loss of memory and time, but it takes its time doing so. Well into the first part I was desperately starting to wonder if it was going to lead us somewhere, hoping the other four parts would be different, but unfortunately, insufficiently so. I loved the premise of this book but sadly most of this stays in the 'ideas' realm; the main character lacks any character and while history and philosophy are applied in an interesting way, the plot isn't rich enough to keep me in it either. Very dry. Not unhappy to have read this, but definitely happy it's done. 

I have not been particularly enamored of all the Booker winners, but finding Gospodinov has been a real joy, and the rest of his works are now on my TBR list! Meta-fictional, musing, wrestling with the angst of nostalgia, challenging Europe's political pasts, citing Foucault as a marker that perhaps we are all in many ways delusional, victims of a societal dementia--somehow Gospodinov builds a labyrinth of uncertainties which echo too truly our recent crises of political and psychological identity. 

It may be worthwhile to know just a bit about 20th century European politics, especially of Eastern Europe, but Gospodinov's explanations of our various decades past serve well even for those completely unfamiliar. Still, as I traveled Bulgaria and studied its history while I read, I found those sections of the novel particularly fulfilling. 

I won't offer spoilers (for the directions this novel takes are half its fun), but I was captured by the breadth of Gospodinov's ambition: just when you think this is a novel of mental health care, for instance, it turns left to find you in a surreal space of narrator misperception; when you believe it may be a political satire (and there is much of this), it turns again to challenge its own premises. 
As I read, I was reminded of Umberto Eco (though not nearly as academic or elusive) and even the traditions of Gothic horror, of a postmodern mad scientist diagnosing our collective schizophrenia: and what is worse, I very often believed him/them (?). Part fantastic tale, part a culturally apocalyptic harbinger, <i> Time Shelter</i> offers us what we believe we want: and that is the terror in it.