A Journey Through Time and Self in On the Calculation of Volume II (Book II)
In a world where time slips through our fingers like sand, On the Calculation of Volume II (Book II) by Solvej Balle, translated by Barbara J. Haveland, seized me with its exploration of repetition, memory, and self-discovery. What initially drew me to this book was its fascinating premise: a protagonist, Tara, trapped in endless cycles of November 18ths, each day a mirror reflecting her struggles from the last. This notion of time resonated deeply with me, especially in our fast-paced lives where routines often obscure our desire for change.
As I dove into the narrative, I found Tara’s experience incredibly relatable. Her journey begins two days after a failed attempt to break free from her temporal confines in Paris. It’s a poignant moment where she recognizes that her life has stagnated, leading to a deeper understanding of who she truly is—or, more disturbingly, who she isn’t anymore. I felt an ache of recognition when Tara reflects on the person she used to be: “the Tara Selter with a future who is gone.” It’s a somber reminder of how our identities can be consumed by circumstance and routine.
Balle’s prose captivates with its lyrical depth and insight into Tara’s psyche. As she embarks on a journey across various cities, often using trains as her vessel, Tara morphs from a participant in life to an active observer. The author cleverly channels a sense of detachment that echoes Rachel Cusk’s Outline trilogy, managing to capture Tara’s essence as she stops to listen to the lives around her—often pondering the morality of these stolen moments. One particularly resonant passage reads, “I felt that I was stealing from them … but my father did not think it was stealing.” It highlights the tender conflict between isolation and connection, inviting readers to consider their own narratives and the people who inhabit them.
The pacing of this novel is unique; its brevity encourages a rapid read that almost feels like skimming the surface of deeper waters. However, as I turned the pages at breakneck speed, I couldn’t help but wish to savor the reflections embedded within the text. Tara’s explorations of the seasons as psychological rather than purely meteorological phenomena struck a chord. “If I want seasons, I will have to build them myself,” she asserts, a mantra that echoed in my own life choices and the seasons of change I have navigated.
Tara’s serendipitous rediscovery of a Roman sestertius becomes a metaphorical turning point, bridging her past and present while prompting her fascination with history. It underscores the idea that time could be viewed not merely as a linear progression but as a rich tapestry of moments, akin to the containers the Romans crafted, many of which hold echoes of their time—a beautiful reflection that suggests all of our lives are containers too, filled with narratives waiting to be unfolded.
As I reached the conclusion of this volume, anticipation for the next installment rippled through me. Balle leaves us not with a cliffhanger, but with a tantalizing hint of connection—a potential fellow traveler for Tara. It is this sense of hope amidst uncertainty that lingers long after the last page is turned.
For those who enjoy contemplative literary fiction or find themselves yearning for a deeper understanding of their own cycles of life, On the Calculation of Volume II offers a beautifully unique exploration of time, identity, and the human experience. This book not only asks us to reflect on the seasons of our lives but actively invites us to build new ones, layer by layer, moment by moment. I walked away feeling as though I had taken a journey alongside Tara—she has become not just a character in a novel, but a gentle guide through the intricacies of existence.
Discover more about On the Calculation of Volume II (Book II) on GoodReads >>