news | Tuesday October 6, 2026

Sailors Can't Swim Is Here!

The winner of the 2023 Prix des libraires du Québec, the 2023 Prix Jacques-Brossard de la science-fiction et du fantastique, and the 2023 French Prix Imaginales is now available in English!

Maritime adventure is back in Dominique Scali new book Sailors Can’t Swim (translated by Jessica Moore). Part oceanic fairy tale, part bildungsroman, part history of an alternate eighteenth century, Sailors Can’t Swim is set on the Atlantic island of Ys where safety lies behind the one high-walled city. There, citizens live in opulent security while the shore-dwellers below rebuild their ruined homes after each great tide.

It is on the shore that we meet Danaé Poussin, an orphan with a rare gift: the ability to swim. Danaé yearns for life within the safety of the walls. As her life flows between the city, the shore, and the sea, she must learn how to navigate the classist indignities of the calm before revolution.

An excerpt from Sailors Can’t Swim:

“From one day to the next, the water turned icy. Danaé Poussin only realized it once she was already immersed. She had dived in to gather up a structure of planks linked like a raft, and two barrels of a liquid that only adults were allowed to drink. Far off the shape of the pier loomed, a dark, hazy spot in the mist. She crossed the shore, shoulders hunched. Reaching the shed she went up to Brunante Coquerane and tugged on her sleeve.
— What is it you want? Can you not see I’m up to my elbows in guts?
The girl stepped back out, then returned to place one of the two small barrels at Brunante’s feet.
— There’s another like this one, and a good deal of planks besides.
The woman’s eyes widened. She put down her knife and wiped her hands on her apron.
— God’s blood, lass!
She moved closer to the girl and began wringing out her hair.
— I got very cold, said Danaé, teeth chattering.
— Aye, I’ll warrant you’re very cold, poor lamb.
— May I have some wood to make a fire?
— Course not, Danaé. You know that well enough. Were I to give you wood, I should have to give it to the others too.
The girl nodded, holding back her tears. She took refuge in the orphan’s cottage, pushing the door open with her shoulder. At the back of the room was a boy. He quickly stashed away the object he was playing with, a silver ball that flashed a glint in the dim light. Danaé stood frozen, her wet hair dripping onto her cheeks.
— What’s that?
— Nothing.
— Liar. ’Tis a coast guard button, I saw it plain. Where’d you get it?
She stepped towards the boy, grabbed his jacket, and tried to turn out his pockets.
— You’ve no right to keep it.
— Let me alone! he said, struggling.
— You must give it to Brunante – that’s the rule.
— There is no rule, the boy shouted. She’s the one gave it me. She gives me all manner of things, Brunante does, as I’m her favourite. The rest of you are naught but a pack o’ nippers nobody wanted.
He pushed her away and bolted out the door, disappearing into the thick white fog. The girl wrapped herself in a blanket, shaken by spasms that could have been shivers just as well as sobs.”

Sailors Can’t Swim is a squall of a novel that fixes its gaze on the meanness of meritocracy, and the reality that all that belongs to someone once belonged to someone else first. Order your copy of this stellar new novel here.