Small Boat by Vincent Delecroix
BOOKS REVIEW
Chaifry
7/10/20257 min read


Vincent Delecroix’s Small Boat, translated from French by Helen Stevenson and published by HopeRoad Publishing (2025), is a searing, philosophical novella shortlisted for the 2025 International Booker Prize. Inspired by the tragic 2021 English Channel migrant boat disaster, where 27 lives were lost, this fictional account probes the moral complexities of indifference and complicity. Delecroix, a French philosopher and novelist, draws on his Kierkegaardian expertise to craft a narrative described as “a gut-punch of a novel” by the Booker judges (2025).
Through the lens of a coastguard operator who fails to act, the novella challenges readers to confront their own ethical boundaries. For Indian readers, Small Boat resonates with the introspective depth of Tagore’s poetry, the moral inquiries of Premchand, and the social consciousness of Punjabi writers like Amrita Pritam. Its exploration of collective responsibility and human dignity aligns with India’s ongoing discourse on migration, empathy, and social justice. This review argues that Small Boat is essential reading for its unflinching prose, philosophical rigor, and urgent call to examine complicity, offering Indian readers a profound lens to reflect on humanity’s shared moral failures in a world of borders and crises.
Small Boat is a compact, three-part novella that fictionalizes the November 2021 tragedy in which an inflatable dinghy carrying 29 migrants from France to the UK capsized in the English Channel, resulting in 27 deaths. The narrator, an unnamed French coastguard operator, is at the heart of the story, grappling with her role in the disaster. In the first part, set during an interrogation by a policewoman who mirrors her, the narrator defends her inaction: “I didn’t ask you to leave” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 89). Despite receiving multiple distress calls, she wrongly assumed the boat was in British waters and failed to dispatch a rescue team, a decision compounded by bureaucratic protocols and personal detachment.
The second part shifts to the migrants’ perspective, vividly depicting their harrowing final hours: “The growing light did nothing to warm them, but it roused their spirits slightly, as though they had survived” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 45). The narrative captures their desperate pleas in French, English, and Kurdish, unanswered as the sea engulfs them. The operator’s chilling words, “You will not be saved” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 67), haunt the text, revealed during the interrogation as a recorded utterance that seals her culpability. The third part returns to the narrator’s stream-of-consciousness reflections, as she drives to the coastguard station to face scrutiny: “Bubbles in her coffee appear… as sinking boats” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 23). She deflects blame, arguing, “Why should she be more responsible than the sea, than the war, than the crises behind these tragedies?” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 12).
The novella culminates in a haunting meditation on collective guilt, with the narrator questioning societal apathy: “There is no shipwreck without spectators… but not one person looks like getting up to step into the water” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 103). Through her rationalizations and fractured conscience, Delecroix explores the banality of evil and the bystander effect, leaving readers to wrestle with their own complicity in global crises.
Small Boat is a masterful work of philosophical fiction, distinguished by its incisive prose and moral complexity, making it a vital read for Indian readers. Helen Stevenson’s translation captures the text’s stark intensity, as seen in the narrator’s cold detachment: “Sorting… is perhaps the most important part of the job” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 17). This clinical tone, paired with vivid imagery, evokes the emotional weight of Punjabi poetry like Shiv Kumar Batalvi’s Loona, where personal and societal failures intertwine, resonating with readers in Amritsar’s literary cafes or Delhi’s bookstores.
The novella’s tripartite structure is a strength, balancing the operator’s interrogation, the migrants’ tragedy, and her introspections. The second part, detailing the drowning—“The growing light did nothing to warm them” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 45)—is particularly gripping, humanizing the migrants while exposing the operator’s failure. This shift in perspective aligns with Indian literary traditions, such as Premchand’s Godan, which juxtaposes individual choices against collective suffering, offering a lens for readers to reflect on social inequities.
Delecroix’s philosophical lens, informed by his Kierkegaardian background, elevates the narrative into a meditation on responsibility. The narrator’s deflection—“Why should she be more responsible than the sea?” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 12)—challenges readers to question systemic apathy, a theme resonant with India’s discourse on migration, from Rohingya refugees to internal displacement. The novella’s brevity—122 pages—ensures accessibility, while its critique of bureaucratic indifference, as seen in the operator’s reliance on protocols, connects with India’s concerns about institutional failures in addressing crises like farmer protests or urban poverty.
The novel’s refusal to offer redemption, as the narrator muses, “There is no shipwreck without spectators” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 103), mirrors the unflinching social critiques of Amrita Pritam’s Pinjar, making it compelling for readers seeking introspective fiction. Its relevance to global migration crises, described as “a damning indictment of apathy” (Financial Times, 2025), invites Indian readers to reflect on empathy in a world of borders.
Despite its power, Small Boat has limitations for Indian readers. The fragmented narrative, particularly the stream-of-consciousness in the third part, can feel disorienting. The narrator’s musings, like seeing “sinking boats” in coffee bubbles (Delecroix, 2024, p. 23), may alienate readers accustomed to the cohesive storytelling of Tagore’s Gora or Surjit Patar’s emotionally direct poetry. The clinical tone, while intentional, risks distancing readers who prefer the warmth of Indian narratives like Anita Nair’s Ladies Coupé, especially in rural settings where emotional resonance is prized.
The novel’s focus on a Western context limits engagement with India’s specific social issues, such as caste or communal tensions. Unlike Heart Lamp, the 2025 Booker winner, which addresses women’s struggles in southern India, Small Boat feels less tied to local concerns like India’s refugee policies or internal migration from Bihar to Mumbai. The migrants are portrayed as “featureless, racialised bodies” (The Wire, 2025), which some critics call “trauma porn” (The Wire, 2025), potentially reducing their individuality for Indian readers familiar with nuanced portrayals in Arundhati Roy’s works.
The open-ended conclusion, with no clear resolution for the narrator’s guilt, may frustrate readers who prefer the moral clarity of Indian classics like Premchand’s stories. The narrator’s refusal to fully accept blame—“I didn’t ask you to leave” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 89)—can feel manipulative, as some critics note (ANZ LitLovers, 2025), particularly for Indian book club readers who value conclusive narratives like Chetan Bhagat’s novels. Finally, the heavy reliance on philosophical abstraction may alienate younger readers in tech-savvy cities like Bengaluru, where grounded social commentary is often preferred.
Why Indian Readers Must Read This Book
Small Boat is a must-read for Indian readers because its searing exploration of complicity, indifference, and human dignity resonates with India’s rich literary and ethical traditions, offering a profound lens to reflect on personal and collective responsibility in a fractured world. For readers in urban centers like Chandigarh or rural Punjab villages, the novella’s depiction of the coastguard operator’s detachment—“Sorting… is perhaps the most important part of the job” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 17)—mirrors the bureaucratic apathy seen in India’s migration crises, from Rohingya refugees to displaced workers during the 2020 lockdown. This echoes the moral critiques in Amrita Pritam’s Pinjar, where societal failures amplify individual suffering, resonating with readers navigating India’s complex social fabric.
The novel’s meditation on collective guilt aligns with Indian philosophical concepts like dharma and karma, urging readers to examine their roles in systemic injustices. The narrator’s haunting realization—“There is no shipwreck without spectators” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 103)—evokes the introspective depth of Tagore’s Gitanjali, where personal accountability intersects with universal ethics, appealing to readers in Varanasi or Kolkata who value spiritual reflection. The migrants’ desperate plight—“The growing light did nothing to warm them” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 45)—parallels the emotional intensity of Shiv Kumar Batalvi’s Mainu Vida Karo, where loss and longing transcend borders, making the tragedy relatable to Punjab’s literary communities.
The novella’s critique of bureaucratic indifference, as seen in the operator’s chilling words, “You will not be saved” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 67), connects with India’s concerns about institutional failures, from delayed disaster responses to marginalized communities’ struggles. This resonates with Surjit Patar’s poetry, like Hawa Vich Likhe Harf, which laments societal neglect, encouraging readers to confront apathy in contexts like Punjab’s farmer protests or Northeast India’s ethnic displacements. The narrative’s focus on migration speaks to India’s own challenges, such as internal migration from rural Bihar to urban Mumbai, inviting readers to reflect on empathy and human rights in a nation hosting diverse refugee populations.
Small Boat’s brevity—122 pages—makes it accessible for readers balancing busy lives, from students in Delhi to farmers in Haryana. Its philosophical depth, questioning “Why should she be more responsible than the sea?” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 12), aligns with India’s tradition of ethical inquiry, as seen in the Bhagavad Gita or Guru Nanak’s teachings on collective responsibility. The novel’s stark imagery, like “sinking boats” in coffee bubbles (Delecroix, 2024, p. 23), evokes the haunting visuals of Punjabi folk tales, where everyday objects carry profound meaning. For readers seeking fiction that challenges moral complacency, Small Boat offers a transformative call to action, urging Indian readers to foster empathy and accountability in a world where crises test humanity’s core.
Small Boat by Vincent Delecroix is a devastating, philosophically rich novella that earns its place on the 2025 International Booker Prize shortlist. Its unflinching prose, captured in quotes like “You will not be saved” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 67) and “There is no shipwreck without spectators” (Delecroix, 2024, p. 103), probes the moral failures of indifference and complicity. For Indian readers, the novel’s resonance with the ethical depth of Tagore, Premchand, and Punjabi poets like Amrita Pritam and Shiv Kumar Batalvi, alongside its critique of systemic apathy, makes it an essential read, despite challenges with its fragmented narrative and Western focus. Its vivid imagery and urgent questions about responsibility inspire reflection on India’s migration and social justice challenges. Highly recommended, Small Boat is a powerful indictment of apathy, urging Indian readers to confront their role in humanity’s shared moral landscape.