Here is a strange swimming pool in which, without realizing it and with full intention, we find ourselves from the very first word floating alongside the characters in a delicate sea of violence.

In Croll, the relentless conflict advances and grows until it completely surpasses the limits of the human condition, leaving the characters shipwrecked before themselves.

Croll is a text where the infinite games of language conceal layer upon layer of helplessness—toward the environment, toward others, and toward one’s own fate. All of it submerged in the inescapable dry and sharp humor of someone trying to resolve their own frustration, where the survivors are heroically resigned.

Faced with this story, one might feel as though they’ve been mercilessly pushed into one of those works that doesn’t seem to begin, but rather to continue. So let each person carry on with their own journey—by boat, swimming, or however they can. Perhaps the shore isn’t so far away.

LYDIA MARGULES