The Thief of Time – John Boyne (2000)

The Thief of Time by John Boyne, first published in 2000, is a literary odyssey spanning over two and a half centuries, chronicling the extraordinary life of Matthieu Zéla, a man who mysteriously stops aging around his fiftieth year. From his birth in 1743 Paris to his modern-day existence in late-1990s London, Matthieu traverses a world in transformation, intertwining historical milestones with deeply personal stories of love, loss, and legacy. Best known for The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, Boyne’s earlier work here blends historical fiction with magical realism, laced with wry humor and poignant introspection.

Plot Summary

From the shadowed alleys of 18th-century Paris to the glittering chaos of 20th-century London, the life of Matthieu Zéla stretched far beyond mortal bounds. Born in 1743, his youth was marked by loss – a father murdered, a mother broken by her second husband’s fists. When she died under his brutality, Matthieu, only fifteen, arranged her burial, saw her killer to the gallows, and fled Paris with his infant half-brother Tomas clutched in his arms.

Their journey led them to England, and on the ferry across the Channel, Matthieu’s eyes met those of Dominique Sauvet. She was nineteen, enigmatic, self-contained, and seemingly carved out of the same longing for escape. In a cold Dover hostel, they became lovers – fleetingly. But as days passed and months piled behind them, Dominique receded into her own silence, mothering Tomas with distant warmth and growing increasingly restless with Matthieu’s life of petty theft.

By the time he was sixteen, he prowled the streets as a pickpocket, agile and unseen, feeding their trio and savoring the rush of escape. But one October night, fortune turned. A failed theft ended with Matthieu beaten and bloodied, his face caved by a stranger’s cane. Dominique nursed him but issued no comfort – only a plan. They would leave Dover. She would find work. He would stop stealing. Her will, as always, was unbending.

So began the long march of years. Cities changed, names changed, and people – always – vanished. Yet Matthieu remained, immune to time’s toll. By the end of the 18th century, he no longer aged. His body, locked at fifty, was untouched by decay, and for reasons unknown, he simply endured. From London to Brussels, New York to Hollywood, he moved through centuries like a ghost clothed in flesh.

But he never severed ties to the line of Tomas. From that first brother sprung a dynasty of Thomases, all doomed by fate and excess. They bore different names – Thorn, Tom, Tommy – but the thread remained unbroken. They died young, in war, in addiction, in fire and shame. Yet Matthieu kept them close, offering money, advice, comfort they never welcomed. The current incarnation, Tommy, was a television darling in late-1990s London – famous, handsome, and slowly disintegrating. Matthieu saw in him the same brilliance and ruin, already flickering.

His own life, by contrast, was a quiet current beneath the surface of history. He’d been many things: soldier, spy, banker, husband. He remembered standing at the feet of guillotines, serving kings and ministers, falling in love with actresses and spies. Most vividly, he remembered Constance Delaney.

In 1921, Matthieu arrived in California, drawn by the new magic of cinema. There he met Charlie Chaplin, charming and egotistical, who invited him to invest in films and bask in celebrity. But it was Constance – quick-tongued, sharp-eyed, unamused by fame – who captivated Matthieu. Her sister, Amelia, was Chaplin’s latest muse, and Matthieu watched with quiet envy as she slipped into his orbit. But Constance stood apart, mocking Chaplin’s grandeur, speaking with clarity and grace. She was uninterested in declarations of love, but Matthieu adored her nonetheless.

Their time was golden – short but luminous. She resisted commitment, hesitant to be tethered, and he, ever cautious of revealing the breadth of his past, did not press. Eventually, like all things in his life, the moment passed. She remained etched in memory, alongside Dominique and the dozens of others who left their fingerprints on his soul but could never stay.

As decades wound on, the world grew louder, faster. Matthieu adapted. He spoke fluently the language of stocks in one century and the slang of youth culture in another. He attended births, burials, revolutions. He made and lost fortunes, though money ceased to interest him. What endured were people – the faces, the voices, the unbearable pattern of love and loss.

Tommy, the latest of his line, mirrored the arc too perfectly. A media icon at twenty-two, adored and exploited in equal measure, he spiraled through fame with the speed of a shooting star. His charm was undeniable – women loved him, men envied him – but beneath the glitter was rot. He snorted cocaine with the recklessness of the young and spoke of dreams as if they were debts. Matthieu saw it clearly: the end was near. And when Tommy’s girlfriend became pregnant, the pattern was sealed. The line would continue. And so, too, would the curse.

In the quiet of his London flat, surrounded by relics from centuries past, Matthieu reflected not on the unnatural length of his life but on its texture. He had touched thousands of lives, witnessed empires rise and collapse, yet remained, always, an observer. Love never stayed. Time never tired. And though he had stopped counting his years, he knew each one intimately.

Some nights, when the city outside was silent and the air carried the weight of memory, he would think of Dominique’s water bottle on that boat from Calais, of Constance’s laughter echoing across Chaplin’s garden, of Tommy’s dazzling, ruined smile. He did not long for death, nor did he run from it. If it came tomorrow, he would greet it like an old acquaintance.

But it had not come yet. And so he remained – the keeper of stories, the thief of time.

Main Characters

• Matthieu Zéla – The protagonist and narrator, Matthieu is an immortal man born in 1743 who ceases to age around fifty. Intelligent, reflective, and paradoxically wearied and fascinated by life, he serves as a witness to centuries of change. His voice carries both wisdom and sardonic wit, and his eternal youth becomes both a gift and burden. His relationships – particularly with the many Thomases born from his lineage – shape the emotional core of the novel.
• Dominique Sauvet – Matthieu’s first love and a defining presence in his early life. Their relationship, formed when Matthieu was fifteen and Dominique nineteen, sets a tone of youthful passion and inevitable heartbreak. Dominique’s ambition and pragmatism sharply contrast with Matthieu’s romantic idealism, embodying a sense of realism and loss of innocence.
• Tomas and his Descendants (The Thomases) – From Matthieu’s half-brother Tomas to the contemporary Tommy, these iterations of the same family line highlight cycles of potential and self-destruction. Each Thomas represents a different era’s social excesses and personal flaws, yet Matthieu’s loyalty to them never wavers, underscoring his own emotional continuity amid history’s chaos.
• Constance Delaney – A quick-witted, independent woman Matthieu falls in love with in 1920s Hollywood. Her skepticism of celebrity culture and intelligent detachment provide an anchor in Matthieu’s romantic wanderings. She is a modern woman in a rapidly evolving world, and their relationship, though imperfect, offers rare depth and parity.

Theme

• The Burden of Immortality – Unlike traditional portrayals of eternal life as a curse, Matthieu views his condition with a blend of curiosity, irony, and fatigue. He does not seek death, but wrestles with the emotional consequences of watching everyone he loves fade. Immortality in the novel becomes a mirror reflecting human folly across generations.
• Cycles of Family and History – Through the many Thomases, the novel explores how patterns repeat – addiction, fame, failure, potential. History itself seems cyclical, and Matthieu, ever the observer, remains caught in its loop. Despite his wisdom, he cannot save his descendants from themselves, illuminating themes of legacy, helplessness, and emotional endurance.
• Love and Disillusionment – Matthieu experiences intense love, yet finds few enduring connections. Women like Dominique and Constance offer glimpses of hope, but also underscore a truth: immortality isolates. Love becomes fleeting, either due to mortality or disconnection, and disillusionment is his constant companion.
• Historical Engagement and Dislocation – From the French Revolution to Hollywood’s golden age to late-20th-century Britain, Matthieu’s life is interwoven with real historical moments. Yet he remains somewhat detached from the world he inhabits, reflecting on its absurdities with bemused detachment, a motif of both his agelessness and existential remove.

Writing Style and Tone

John Boyne’s narrative voice in The Thief of Time is rich, ironic, and consistently engaging, infused with a dry, almost aristocratic wit that perfectly suits a character who has lived for over 250 years. Written in the first person, the prose is often digressive – reminiscent of memoirs or oral histories – yet never loses its momentum. Boyne balances anecdotal storytelling with philosophical introspection, creating a tone that oscillates between poignant melancholy and wry humor. He achieves intimacy with the reader through Matthieu’s confessional voice, making the impossible feel vividly real.

Boyne’s style also reveals a mastery of historical texture. Each era Matthieu moves through is rendered with careful, subtle detail, never overwhelming the reader but always grounding the character in time. His dialogue is sharp and believable, revealing character through tone as much as content. The novel’s voice becomes a living testament to the protagonist’s longevity – fluent in multiple periods, yet carrying the same internal rhythm. There’s a quiet sadness beneath the humor, a timeless observer’s resignation to the eternal repetition of human mistakes, all delivered with narrative grace and wit.