Boulder
Author: Eva Baltasar
Translated by: Julia Sanches
Published by: And Other Stories
Pages: 105
Format: Paperback
My Rating: ★★★1/2
Translated by: Julia Sanches
Published by: And Other Stories
Pages: 105
Format: Paperback
My Rating: ★★★1/2
Longlisted for the 2023 International Booker Prize
Working as a cook on a merchant ship, a woman comes to know and love Samsa, a woman who gives her the nickname ‘Boulder’. When Samsa gets a job in Reykjavik and the couple decides to move there together, Samsa decides that she wants to have a child. She is already forty and can’t bear to let the opportunity pass her by. Boulder is less enthused but doesn’t know how to say no - and so finds herself dragged along on a journey that feels as thankless as it is alien.
With motherhood changing Samsa into a stranger, Boulder must decide where her priorities lie, and whether her yearning for freedom can truly trump her yearning for love.
Working as a cook on a merchant ship, a woman comes to know and love Samsa, a woman who gives her the nickname ‘Boulder’. When Samsa gets a job in Reykjavik and the couple decides to move there together, Samsa decides that she wants to have a child. She is already forty and can’t bear to let the opportunity pass her by. Boulder is less enthused but doesn’t know how to say no - and so finds herself dragged along on a journey that feels as thankless as it is alien.
With motherhood changing Samsa into a stranger, Boulder must decide where her priorities lie, and whether her yearning for freedom can truly trump her yearning for love.
My thoughts:
Boulder by Eva Baltasar, translated by Julia Sanches, is a novel I find myself admiring as much as I wrestled with. I’d rate it somewhere between 3.5 and 4 stars, largely because of its writing - which is, without question, its greatest strength.
Baltasar’s prose is sparse yet strikingly beautiful. The narration is blunt, often brutal, and refreshingly unsentimental. There’s very little cushioning here: emotions land sharply, relationships feel exposed, and desire is rendered without apology. From the opening pages, my immediate response was one of intrigue: a pull that held me tightly as I read. That sense of fascination never fully faded, though I did feel noticeably more hopeful in the novel’s early moments.
As the story progresses, however, that hope gives way to immense frustration, particularly with Boulder herself, and the direction her life takes after she ultimately gives in to the pressures of her partner’s expectations. Motherhood and family life arrive not as fulfilment, but as a kind of quiet erosion. Watching Boulder relinquish parts of herself in the name of love felt deeply unsettling, especially as those sacrifices align so closely with what society frames as the natural or inevitable desire for women.
Baltasar has a haunting way of depicting love, work, travel, and motherhood - each rendered through Boulder’s restless, searching gaze. She is not a likeable character, but always interesting. Seeing the world through her eyes, you feel both sadness and longing: a desire for passion, movement, and perpetual newness, coupled with a grief for what is lost when one settles into a life that doesn’t fully fit.
There is also a particularly jarring and unexpectedly graphic sex scene towards the end of the novel, which took me by surprise. For me, it felt somewhat unnecessary and I’m not sure if it meaningfully contributed to the progression of the story or deepen the emotional stakes. Instead, it read more as an attempt at shock value; something that slightly disrupted my immersion rather than enhancing it.
Overall Boulder is as dark and bleak as its cover suggests, but it is also raw, addictive, and intense. Though compact in length, it is deceptively rich. It was a great choice for discussion at my monthly book club. This is a novel that lingers, provoking reflection long after the final page. It may not always be comfortable, but it is undeniably compelling.
Overall reaction:
Boulder by Eva Baltasar, translated by Julia Sanches, is a novel I find myself admiring as much as I wrestled with. I’d rate it somewhere between 3.5 and 4 stars, largely because of its writing - which is, without question, its greatest strength.
Baltasar’s prose is sparse yet strikingly beautiful. The narration is blunt, often brutal, and refreshingly unsentimental. There’s very little cushioning here: emotions land sharply, relationships feel exposed, and desire is rendered without apology. From the opening pages, my immediate response was one of intrigue: a pull that held me tightly as I read. That sense of fascination never fully faded, though I did feel noticeably more hopeful in the novel’s early moments.
As the story progresses, however, that hope gives way to immense frustration, particularly with Boulder herself, and the direction her life takes after she ultimately gives in to the pressures of her partner’s expectations. Motherhood and family life arrive not as fulfilment, but as a kind of quiet erosion. Watching Boulder relinquish parts of herself in the name of love felt deeply unsettling, especially as those sacrifices align so closely with what society frames as the natural or inevitable desire for women.
Baltasar has a haunting way of depicting love, work, travel, and motherhood - each rendered through Boulder’s restless, searching gaze. She is not a likeable character, but always interesting. Seeing the world through her eyes, you feel both sadness and longing: a desire for passion, movement, and perpetual newness, coupled with a grief for what is lost when one settles into a life that doesn’t fully fit.
There is also a particularly jarring and unexpectedly graphic sex scene towards the end of the novel, which took me by surprise. For me, it felt somewhat unnecessary and I’m not sure if it meaningfully contributed to the progression of the story or deepen the emotional stakes. Instead, it read more as an attempt at shock value; something that slightly disrupted my immersion rather than enhancing it.
Overall Boulder is as dark and bleak as its cover suggests, but it is also raw, addictive, and intense. Though compact in length, it is deceptively rich. It was a great choice for discussion at my monthly book club. This is a novel that lingers, provoking reflection long after the final page. It may not always be comfortable, but it is undeniably compelling.
Overall reaction:
