Small Boat - Vincent Delecroix - ★★★.¾

AUTHOR: Vincent Delecroix

TRANSLATOR: Helen Stevenson

GENRE: Literary Fiction

PUBLICATION DATE: April 21, 2026

RATING: 3.75 stars.

In a Nutshell: A literary fiction inspired by a true event and highlighting the moral ambiguities of human nature. Extended first person with a bit of repetition. Three somewhat lengthy chapters, but fast-paced. Thought-provoking. No quotation marks. Good translation. Recommended to literary fiction readers.

Plot Preview:

In November 2021, a dinghy carrying migrants from France to the UK sprung a leak and later capsized in the Channel. Despite the French rescue centre getting numerous calls for help from one of the migrants, the radio operator repeatedly told them that they were in English waters and so needed to call the British authorities. She also assured them that help was on the way. But no rescue vessels came for the drowning refugees. Twenty-seven migrants perished in the freezing waters that night. Only two were saved.

The above incident is true. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2021_English_Channel_disaster)

This book contains a fictitious account of the radio operator who refused to be held responsible for the incident. This novella is written mostly in her first-person perspective.

This novella was originally written in French in 2023 under the title ‘Naufrage’ [Shipwreck]. This is the first time a book by Vincent Delecroix has been translated to English. It was longlisted for the Prix Goncourt and the English translation by Helen Stevenson was shortlisted for the 2025 International Booker Prize.

The book begins with the author’s note containing details about the actual disaster in 2021 and providing plenty of shocking facts. Many readers have a habit of skipping authors’ notes, but in this case, I strongly recommend you begin with the note even though it contains some spoilers because it provides an essential foundation to understand the main content. The actual story has no background detailing, so without the note, you will be clueless about the gravity of the disaster and the exact circumstances behind the official enquiry.

It’s quite tough to review this book using the typical parameters as there’s no concrete plot. The author is a philosopher, and he uses his grasp of ethical ambiguity to create this story of a woman who can't accept that she’s being held responsible for the migrants’ deaths. The novella is divided into three sections, with the first and third sections containing her first-person narration justifying her actions and questioning the inspector for doubting her motives.

I love the choice of narrator. We always have a positive image in our heads when it comes to rescue personnel. We look upon them as angels who go out of their way to help others. While this is true in a majority of the cases, there are always exceptions. Seeing this narrator argue vehemently about how she cannot be blamed in any way for the deaths of the asylum seekers is an unsettling and infuriating experience as our brain refuses to question the morality of those in noble work roles. The fact that she is judgemental and racist further sullies her integrity.

She isn't a straightforward negative character though. The author brings in moral ambiguity by indicating that the radio operator is a single mother who does her best for her daughter. Is that fact meant to stir us into sympathy for her situation, into accepting her arguments with a more open mind, into trying to understand her perspective simply because mothers are supposed to be noble? No idea. But it is an interesting addition to her character profile and creates layers into what would otherwise have been a uni-dimensional character.

The second section of the book is the most chilling. This is written from the POV of the migrant who used his mobile phone to call the rescue services for help. We already know the fate of this dinghy, so reading the imagined version of their last few hours in the Channel is a disturbing experience.

The entire book highlights how there are so many layers to asylum seeking that we outsiders don’t understand. The media usually highlights one of two situations: the despicable conditions of the refugees or the rejection of illegal infiltration by the legal residents of a nation. But the truth is so much more complex. Even a simple rescue in the Channel is determined by water currents and wind direction and hypothetical national boundaries and of course, the identity of the people involved.

Though the book offers a limited number of characters, with the radio operator getting the most page space, it still offers us enough content to contemplate over. Who is responsible for such incidents? Is this an individual failure or an institutional failure? Are we truly in a position to judge anyone? When I say “they” should be more careful in their decisions, who is the default “they” that pops up in your mind? Is there any overlap between complacency and complicity? Are we right in criticising the radio operator for apathy when we ourselves overlook so many poor/needy people in our daily life? Do we take action or do we always wait for others to step in during times of crisis? Can we really consider ourselves superior humans when we too have questioned, ignored, attacked those not in the same position as us?

While the book offers much exercise to the mind, it also taxes. The extended first-person narration, especially in the first section, has nothing but justification and finger-pointing. After a while, the blame-game and roundabout rambling start feeling repetitive. This section is supposed to be the radio operator’s interrogation during the official enquiry of her behaviour. But because of the first-person, we hear everything only from her point of view. The section thus contains the interviewing inspector’s questions and responses, the narrator’s vehement explanation validating her stance, and some inner monologues related to flashbacks of the key incident. There is not a single quotation mark anywhere in this, which is a challenge for me.

As there are no chapters beyond the three sections, it is tough to decide where to pause in between. Both the structure and the content don’t offer an easy stopping point. Then again, the book is quite short at 122 pages, so it can be read in a single sitting.

The translation seems impeccable. At no place did I find the construction awkward.

Overall, the book is a thought-provoking read, letting us learn about a modern-day tragedy, offering us insights into what happens (or at least, is supposed to happen) during a rescue, and stirring us to see what those opposing the influx of migrants have to say. The book doesn’t take sides, nor does it expect us to. But given the nature of the plot, I suspect that no matter which side of the refugee argument we are on, we will find many points to ponder upon.

Recommended to literary fiction lovers looking for a contemplative read that will make them question their own morality.

My thanks to Mariner Books for providing the DRC of “Small Boat” via NetGalley. This review is voluntary and contains my honest opinion about the book.