On the Calculation of Volume II

Tara dissociates; she slips from herself. As anyone trapped in a single repeating day might, she realizes she’s now confined to one season. So she sets out in search of the others. What follows is a wandering, meditative pilgrimage through space and history: she seeks winter, spring, and summer, and in the process she stumbles across everything from the internet to the Roman Empire.

This volume feels like Solvej Balle asking: What if Tara stops circling her own terror long enough to live? What would she notice? Who would she become? Tara’s thoughts drift, settle, and reform, and the pleasure of the novel lies almost entirely in inhabiting her interiority. Not much “happens,” but that’s intentional. It’s a study in what remains when life’s structure disappears.

I loved how expansive the world suddenly feels. The novel stretches outward while everything stays tethered to Tara’s consciousness. Her searching becomes a strange, lovely metaphor: a woman caught outside of time trying to gather all the seasons back into her hands.

And then there’s the final paragraph, which finally (finally!) nudges the series forward. It’s a small shift, but it lands like a cliffhanger. After so much stasis, that movement feels seismic.

On The Calculation of Volume, Book II is a hypnotic, thoughtful continuation that’s restrained, existential, and quietly bold. I’m already itching for Volume III.

4.25 ⭐️