Name: On The Calculation of Volume I
ISBN: 9780571383375

Solvej Balle

Tara Setler has slipped out of time. Every morning, she wakes up on the 18th November, and she no longer remembers the 17th as if it were yesterday…
Shortlisted for the International Booker Prize 2025

On The Calculation of Volume I

Om udregning af rumfang

smile??

We try to avoid long phone calls when we're apart. Not only because otherwise we would only end up having long, detailed dialogues on the condition of the books, publication years, the illustrations and the pricing but also because such conversations seem to increase the distance between us.The minute we deviate from simple, practical matters, the conversation lapses imperceptibly into a kind of audio link, a muted love mumble. Our communication, initially meaningful and coherent, turns into a series of fitful exchanges containing neither sentences nor information: little words and sounds meant—I suppose—to keep the line between us open, but which, instead, make all too clear how far apart we are.

It seems so odd to me now, how one can be so unsettled by the improbable. When we know that our entire existence is founded on freak occurrences and improbable coincidences. That we wouldn't be here at all if it weren't for these curious twists of fate. That there are human beings on what we call our planet, that we can move around on a rotating sphere in a vast universe full of inconceivably large bodies comprised of elements so small that the mind simply cannot comprehend how small and how many there are. That in this unfathomable vastness, these infinitesimal elements are still able to hold themselves together. That we manage to stay afloat. That we exist at all. That each of us has come into being as only one of untold possibilities. The unthinkable is something we carry with us always. It has already happened: we are improbably, we have emerged from a cloud of unbelievable coincidences. Anyone would think that this knowledge would equip us is some small way to face the improbably. But the opposite appears to be the case. We have grown accustomed to living with that knowledge without feeling dizzy every morning, and instead of moving around warily and tentatively, in constant amazement, we behave as if nothing has happened, take the strangeness of it all for granted and get dizzy if life shows itself as it truly is: improbably, unpredictable, remarkable.

Perhaps I was preparing for another time.

We talked about cameras which could record changes. We talked about love. About whether it could make things happen. About whether love could bring us in or out.

Maybe my sentences are no more than repeated calls to an emergency hot line where no one answers the phone. Little attempts to leave a message for someone who never calls back.

It is the loss that staggers me. It is the longing for what is lost and there is nothing I can do about it.

These are haunts I have often revisited, alone or with Thomas, but now it is a well-known world in a time that has ground to a halt. I long for a world where time passes. A world where the eighteenth of November is a day like any other, a day you can put behind you.

While some people found it a bit boring since it's a time-looping themed story, I found a curiosity growing inside me with every page I turned. It feels like reading a mystery/thriller book. I can't wait to find out what is actually happening. What should Tara do in order to break out from the eighteenth of November? Why did this even happen in the first place? (Although I believe I will find the answer to those questions in the next volume.)

I must admit Solvej Balle did a great job writing a story about time-loop without making it sound repetitive & dull. She will give a few crumbs in each loop to make us, the reader, get closer to Tara from her life, thoughts, and how she made a decision.

While some people found it a bit boring since it's a time-looping themed story, I found a curiosity growing inside me with every page I turned. It feels like reading a mystery/thriller book. I can't wait to find out what is actually happening. What should Tara do in order to break out from the eighteenth of November? Why did this even happen in the first place? (Although I believe I will find the answer to those questions in the next volume.)

I must admit Solvej Balle did a great job writing a story about time-loop without making it sound repetitive & dull. She will give a few crumbs in each loop to make us, the reader, get closer to Tara from her life, thoughts, and how she made a decision.

Wanted more to happen but clearly that’s what the other 6 books are for, so I shall have to stay tuned. My facetious review is that if this happened to me, I’d be buying clothes

Margo Koss

Tara Selter, the heroine of On the Calculation of Volume, has involuntarily stepped off the train of time: in her world, November 18th repeats itself endlessly. We meet Tara on her 122nd November 18th: she no longer experiences the changes of days, weeks, months, or seasons. She finds herself in a lonely new reality without being able to explain why: how is it that she wakes every morning into the same day, knowing to the exact second when the blackbird will burst into song and when the rain will begin? Will she ever be able to share her new life with her beloved and now chronically befuddled husband? And on top of her profound isolation and confusion, Tara takes in with pain how slight a difference she makes in the world. (As she puts it: “That’s how little the activities of one person matter on the 18th of November.”)

Balle is hypnotic and masterful in her remixing of the endless recursive day, creating curious little folds of time and foreshadowings: her memories of the past light up inside the text like old-fashioned flash bulbs.

The first volume’s gravitational pull—a force inverse to its constriction—has the effect of a strong tranquilizer, but a drug under which your powers of observation only grow sharper and more acute. Give in to the book’s logic (the thrilling shifts, the minute movements, the slant wit, the slowing of time), and its spell is utterly intoxicating.

Solvej Balle’s seven-volume novel wrings enthralling and magical new dimensions from time and its hapless, mortal subjects. As one Danish reviewer beautifully put it, Balle’s fiction consists of writing that listens: “Reading her is like being caressed by language itself.”

On the Calculation of Volume I

“it is the loss that staggers me. it is the longing for what is lost and there is nothing i can do about it.”

- it doesn’t feel real to me that solvej balle is a living person walking the earth at the same time as me. like, she’s out there somewhere? writing more of these? and i get to read more of them?

 as an acronym) is a lispector-esque groundhog day; a tagline i’m quite attached to, as it tells you everything to expect going in. tara recounts what it’s been like living the same day, november 18th, over and over. it is a puzzling phenomenon that she tests and questions with her husband, thomas, but there are other pressing matters. amidst this repetition and isolation, tara is unraveling as a person. her mission quickly shifts towards that of self-preservation: what becomes necessity when no one can remember her in a stagnant world

“[...] we gave up on our explanations and turned to the question of what was to become of us. Would we be able to stick together?”

 is a mellow and introspective story, which is exactly the kind of science fiction i yearn for. we get some sci-fi exposition, and it’s very fun to roll those questions around in your head, but the focus of this book is less about the problem, and more about how this dilemma has influenced tara and her behavior. she struggles to keep hold of her own hope, and selfhood, and any lingering sense of what’s real in the world

- how do we stay anchored to those we love when we change at different speeds? how do we stay connected to the world when the world doesn’t feel connected to us?

- not only is the one of the best books i’ve ever read with themes i connect with lovingly, it’s also a series, which is astounding to me. if this was a standalone, i would’ve cherished this one book and never thought twice about what might’ve come next. solvej balle spoils me and i am so grateful

- “it is the loss that staggers me. it is the longing for what is lost and there is nothing i can do about it.” (p.99)

- it doesn’t feel real to me that solvej balle is a living person walking the earth at the same time as me. like, she’s out there somewhere? writing more of these? and i get to read more of them?

- on the calculation of volume i (i’ll call it otc-1 as an acronym) is a lispector-esque groundhog day; a tagline i’m quite attached to, as it tells you everything to expect going in. tara recounts what it’s been like living the same day, november 18th, over and over. it is a puzzling phenomenon that she tests and questions with her husband, thomas, but there are other pressing matters. amidst this repetition and isolation, tara is unraveling as a person. her mission quickly shifts towards that of self-preservation: what becomes necessity when no one can remember her in a stagnant world

  - “[...] we gave up on our explanations and turned to the question of what was to become of us. Would we be able to stick together?” (p.80)

- otc is a mellow and introspective story, which is exactly the kind of science fiction i yearn for. we get some sci-fi exposition, and it’s very fun to roll those questions around in your head, but the focus of this book is less about the problem, and more about how this dilemma has influenced tara and her behavior. she struggles to keep hold of her own hope, and selfhood, and any lingering sense of what’s real in the world

- how do we stay anchored to those we love when we change at different speeds? how do we stay connected to the world when the world doesn’t feel connected to us?

- not only is the one of the best books i’ve ever read with themes i connect with lovingly, it’s also a series, which is astounding to me. if this was a standalone, i would’ve cherished this one book and never thought twice about what might’ve come next. solvej balle spoils me and i am so grateful

Nothing but respect for managing to tackle this specificity, in this style, and keeping it a relative page-turner. 

SIX more though? Not quite my tempo. Made me realise how much I need dialogue.

Favourite part was the couple of pages that compare what's happening to losing someone you've lived with a long time and still feeling their presence.

c0up

Nothing but respect for managing to tackle this specificity, in this style, and keeping it a relative page-turner. 

SIX more though? Not quite my tempo. Made me realise how much I need dialogue.

Favourite part was the couple of pages that compare what's happening to losing someone you've lived with a long time and still feeling their presence.

a bit of a slow start but got sooo sucked in. so beautiful and so mundane. maybe beautiful because of the mundane 

petrina

What does it mean to love, to belong, to remain human, when your days are no longer in step with anyone else’s?

I spotted a plot hole that really bothers me on my experience while reading, though I found the proses relatable. It was promising at first, really, I had a big expectations but I realized it’s getting nowhere. I get the allegory of time and repetitive days, I just don’t see something that makes me really like it. 

Lilianne

Highly rated series but i dont see myself getting into it :( 

Rabia Sohail

it took me so long to read thisss

Highly rated series but i dont see myself getting into it :( 

The novel felt like mostly vibes of the quiotidian but that is also what makes it so interesting. Balle has managed to write about a time loop without making it feel repetitive or boring. Rather, it is strangely believable and relatable. From the giving up on repeating the same story again and again, to trying to figure out a way out, to depressive episodes - who among us would have not behaved in the same way? And more importantly, who among us does not find themselves going through the same emotions as they fall into the routine of their daily lives?

On the Calculation of Volume is a seven-book series written by Danish author Solvej Balle, 5 of which have been released in Denmark and 2 of which have been currently translated to English and are available to buy at the time of writing this. I feel like this is important information to preface because it is a relatively short novel, clocking in at around 180 pages, and with the novel’s strange, experimental, offbeat nature, it’s important to understand that it is part of a larger body of work in which the sum may be more than the whole of its parts. Saying that, however, I have only read this book in front of me, Book 1 of 7, and, while I definitely will read later books in the series at some point, I can only judge a book for what is in the book, and not for potential books I have yet to read. It may be the case that I retroactively change my opinion on this in the future knowing how it all fits in.

… is a time loop story. On the 18th of November in some year, our protagonist and narrator Tara goes about her day as an antique bookseller, focussing on procuring some rare books in Paris. A completely normal day ensues. However, when she wakes up the next morning in her hotel room, she finds everything from her memory of that previous morning being replayed—though some of the books she procured remain in her possession, alongside a burn mark she suffered from the previous night. She goes to sleep and wakes up to the same phenomenon: everything in the world is reset to the morning of the 18th of November, save for her, her memories, and her possessions. Hundreds of days have passed like this already—we see her story reflected in the journal she has kept since the loop began—and there seems to be no way out.

It is somewhat of a classic science fiction trope, but the book carefully stays away from the trappings of conventionality. What Balle is more interested in is the philosophical questions the time loop frame can offer, and what Tara’s unique position in the world can tell us about the way we think about life, belonging, and companionship. My favourite part of the novel is Tara’s interactions with her husband, Thomas. Tara’s first solution to get out of the scenario she’s in is to explain everything to Thomas, who trusts her inherently and strives as much as he can to find explanations and solutions, scientific or otherwise. The kicker is, of course, that every night at an unspecified time the world resets to the 18th of November, and Thomas’s memories, unlike Tara’s, do not carry forward. In Thomas’s mind, Tara should be in Paris—her presence in their house necessitates an explanation, which Tara continues to deliver, morning after morning,  alongside the accumulation of knowledge she has gained after dozens of 18ths of Novembers.

Sooner or later Tara realises that this obligation to explain becomes a burden, and so she stops seeking him out, choosing to live her 18ths in a guest room in the house. In doing this, her love shifts from companionship and presence to observation and devotion, with her memorising his daily habits and shiftings around the house, knowing them better than she knows herself. In doing so, she saves him from the distress of an explanation, and allows him to live his undisturbed November day continuously. It's a beautiful encapsulation of enduring love, even in moments of unexplainable existential collapse.

Balle’s style is straightforward and uncomplicated, focussed on the everyday and the mundane. Fans of Karl Ove Knausgaard would appreciate the level of granular detail dedicated to the small things, such as household chores and everyday occurrences. And despite its sci-fi adjacent premise, the suburban, middle-class setting does not stray wildly into discussions of parallel universes or into philosophical understandings of Tara’s scenario, for why would they? Tara is a mere bookseller, not a philosophically trained author, who has just found herself in this dreaded existential purgatory, and the narration reflects this almost devastating acquiescence. 

The style both lent impact to the major themes of the book and somewhat detracted from my reading experience at the same time. For the former, the book is principally concerned with ‘possessions’ and ‘attention.’ What would we actually see in our life, if we bothered to look? If the day was repeated, what would we notice? If we don’t notice, is it the same as nonexistence? It is established clearly that what Tara brings ‘beyond the precipice’ into the next ‘day’ are things she has actively thought about and considered as her own, no matter the size. And this focus on objects serves an ecological message too—what do we ‘devour’, as humans, if we pay attention to everything we consume; if, when a day is repeated, we never get back what we used up? The writing style, focussing on small things and small actions, lends itself nicely to this central message.

For the latter, though, with the novel being 1/5th of the size of a typical Knausgaard book, you’ll quickly find out that the novel is practically over before it begins, and a lot of its space is spent on these small details. Perhaps that is intentional by Balle. Perhaps, like the story’s premise, we should re-read and drill down on the small details as much as possible. But I do wonder whether it would be better to combine some of these smaller books in a 7-book series into one longer work.

In all, though, I definitely enjoyed the book’s unique (at least for literary fiction) premise, alongside its offbeat style. At points, Tara’s desperation and existential dread is presented masterfully by Balle. I definitely want to read more in this series as it comes out, but I might wait a bit until everything is available in English.

shain

On the Calculation of Volume is a seven-book series written by Danish author Solvej Balle, 5 of which have been released in Denmark and 2 of which have been currently translated to English and are available to buy at the time of writing this. I feel like this is important information to preface because it is a relatively short novel, clocking in at around 180 pages, and with the novel’s strange, experimental, offbeat nature, it’s important to understand that it is part of a larger body of work in which the sum may be more than the whole of its parts. Saying that, however, I have only read this book in front of me, Book 1 of 7, and, while I definitely will read later books in the series at some point, I can only judge a book for what is in the book, and not for potential books I have yet to read. It may be the case that I retroactively change my opinion on this in the future knowing how it all fits in.

On the Calculation… is a time loop story. On the 18th of November in some year, our protagonist and narrator Tara goes about her day as an antique bookseller, focussing on procuring some rare books in Paris. A completely normal day ensues. However, when she wakes up the next morning in her hotel room, she finds everything from her memory of that previous morning being replayed—though some of the books she procured remain in her possession, alongside a burn mark she suffered from the previous night. She goes to sleep and wakes up to the same phenomenon: everything in the world is reset to the morning of the 18th of November, save for her, her memories, and her possessions. Hundreds of days have passed like this already—we see her story reflected in the journal she has kept since the loop began—and there seems to be no way out.

It is somewhat of a classic science fiction trope, but the book carefully stays away from the trappings of conventionality. What Balle is more interested in is the philosophical questions the time loop frame can offer, and what Tara’s unique position in the world can tell us about the way we think about life, belonging, and companionship. My favourite part of the novel is Tara’s interactions with her husband, Thomas. Tara’s first solution to get out of the scenario she’s in is to explain everything to Thomas, who trusts her inherently and strives as much as he can to find explanations and solutions, scientific or otherwise. The kicker is, of course, that every night at an unspecified time the world resets to the 18th of November, and Thomas’s memories, unlike Tara’s, do not carry forward. In Thomas’s mind, Tara should be in Paris—her presence in their house necessitates an explanation, which Tara continues to deliver, morning after morning,  alongside the accumulation of knowledge she has gained after dozens of 18ths of Novembers.

Sooner or later Tara realises that this obligation to explain becomes a burden, and so she stops seeking him out, choosing to live her 18ths in a guest room in the house. In doing this, her love shifts from companionship and presence to observation and devotion, with her memorising his daily habits and shiftings around the house, knowing them better than she knows herself. In doing so, she saves him from the distress of an explanation, and allows him to live his undisturbed November day continuously. It's a beautiful encapsulation of enduring love, even in moments of unexplainable existential collapse.

Balle’s style is straightforward and uncomplicated, focussed on the everyday and the mundane. Fans of Karl Ove Knausgaard would appreciate the level of granular detail dedicated to the small things, such as household chores and everyday occurrences. And despite its sci-fi adjacent premise, the suburban, middle-class setting does not stray wildly into discussions of parallel universes or into philosophical understandings of Tara’s scenario, for why would they? Tara is a mere bookseller, not a philosophically trained author, who has just found herself in this dreaded existential purgatory, and the narration reflects this almost devastating acquiescence. 

The style both lent impact to the major themes of the book and somewhat detracted from my reading experience at the same time. For the former, the book is principally concerned with ‘possessions’ and ‘attention.’ What would we actually see in our life, if we bothered to look? If the day was repeated, what would we notice? If we don’t notice, is it the same as nonexistence? It is established clearly that what Tara brings ‘beyond the precipice’ into the next ‘day’ are things she has actively thought about and considered as her own, no matter the size. And this focus on objects serves an ecological message too—what do we ‘devour’, as humans, if we pay attention to everything we consume; if, when a day is repeated, we never get back what we used up? The writing style, focussing on small things and small actions, lends itself nicely to this central message.

For the latter, though, with the novel being 1/5th of the size of a typical Knausgaard book, you’ll quickly find out that the novel is practically over before it begins, and a lot of its space is spent on these small details. Perhaps that is intentional by Balle. Perhaps, like the story’s premise, we should re-read and drill down on the small details as much as possible. But I do wonder whether it would be better to combine some of these smaller books in a 7-book series into one longer work.

In all, though, I definitely enjoyed the book’s unique (at least for literary fiction) premise, alongside its offbeat style. At points, Tara’s desperation and existential dread is presented masterfully by Balle. I definitely want to read more in this series as it comes out, but I might wait a bit until everything is available in English.

On The Calculation of Volume I

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