I’m a little conflicted with this book. The story was genuinely so interesting and it had so many turns, whenever something unexpected happened or something didn’t go according to their plan, it made me more interested in the story and curious to know how they would fix that. Also loved the characters, they had so much depth and story to them, and the found family aspect was so heart warming, seeing Vin go from an abusive crew to one that cared about her and were actually happy and had good times together.

However, I was bored most of the time. I don’t know if it was the writing style, the pacing, the way the story was told, idk, but if felt like this book had some high moments, the ones that peeked my interest and made me enjoy the story in that moment, but then the story would go flat and it felt like not much was happening, or at least nothing that would affect the story. The ending of part 4/ and all of part 5 brought back my interest in the story, which makes me even more conflicted with how I feel about this book. It’s like 80% of the book was meh, but then the last 20% were really really good.

I already have the rest of the trilogy and I’m genuinely interested in finding out about some things that were left open, so I might continue the series but after a little break.

“I am living in a time that eats up the world.”

On the Calculation of Volume I is a strange, unsettling Danish novella translated into English in 2024. It follows Tara, who becomes trapped in a time loop on November 18th. As the day repeats, she begins to lose her sense of self: she ages while the world resets, her hair and nails keep growing, and anything she consumes disappears whereas anything consumed by others will reappear when the loop starts over. Everyone else moves through each loop untouched, including her husband, who forgets every version of the day she remembers. Her isolation turns into a quiet, existential terror. The intimacy that once grounded her slips away, leaving her unmoored in a world she can influence but no longer truly belongs to.

The repetition becomes a study in identity. As the prose shifts with Tara’s unraveling mind, the loop forces her to reflect on what makes a person real.

It’s quintessential Scandinavian lit fic: eerie and deeply introspective, a meditation on existence, intimacy, identity, grief, love, and the imprint one person leaves on the world. If literary fiction is your thing, this one is worth your time.

EDIT: it might just be over the general qualifications of a novella, but as it is only around 165 pages, I don't think of it as a novel.