Erica’s Pick of the Week: On The Calculation of Volume, Book I

Solvej Balle’s On The Calculation of Volume, Book I is a hard sell, to put it mildly. First, the title sounds like a geometry textbook. Second, it’s a projected seven-book series. Third, it’s translated from its original Danish. You would be forgiven for thinking that I was recommending you a sleep aid. In truth, this speculative novella – a slender 160 pages and International Booker Prize finalist —  is a gorgeous, unexpected, thought-provoking gem.

This is the story of Tara Stelter, a rare book dealer in France, who finds herself caught in a Groundhog Day-style time loop. She goes to bed on November 18th, and wakes up…on November 18th. Nobody else notices. Even her husband believes it’s the first November 18th.

In fact, it’s the one hundred twenty-second November 18th when we meet her.

Desperate to break out of the time loop, Tara tries everything. She tests hypotheses. She learns the quirks and rules of her cyclical world. (The food she eats does not regenerate, so her trips to the grocery store eventually result in empty shelves; she discovers how to keep objects from disappearing overnight.) She explains herself, over and over again, to the people she loves. She searches for patterns, for reasons, for connection. 

She makes an escape plan.

To say more about the plot would spoil the delicately constructed twists and turns, the cliffhangers and subtle surprises that emerge over the first two books in this series. What I can promise is that there’s no technobabble, no Einstein-esque explanation for the time loop. This isn’t a story about time travel. It’s a story about being human in a baffling world. 

How does Tara make sense of the impossible? She loves her husband, but he is static, and she is changing with every single iteration. How does a marriage work when the person you love most is incapable of evolving alongside you? If every day is the same, how do you mark time; how do you give meaning to your days? To your life?

Solvej Balle explores these questions in lush, rhythmic, surprisingly accessible prose. Tara wrestles with her new reality, revisiting ideas, shifting her viewpoint, showing her growth. She’s  attuned to the slightest changes in the world and herself, and by extension, so are we. It’s writing to get lost in. 

Whether you’re a fan of literary fiction or more speculative fare, On The Calculation of Volume is a deceptively small book that asks big questions and lingers in the mind. It’s perfect for fans of Daniel Mason’s North Woods and Kate Atkinson’s Life After Life.