The migration of the infidel

He lost all sense of his surroundings, suddenly transforming into a raging storm of anger. He raised his hammer and brought it down on the rock, repeating the action again and again until the ground shook and dust began to rise from the falling stones. The blows continued, and his entire body became two hands with no purpose other than to strike the mountain looming before him, as if he were striking everything he had experienced since childhood. He brought the hammer down on his prison, on his absence, on the despair of ever leaving that darkness, on his overwhelming longing for his wife, on the roar that deafened him and prevented him from hearing anything else, on the isolation that stretched on and on, and on the thought he did not want to confront... He did not know that the rock was crumbling before him; he was lost in his anger, united with his hammer in demolishing all the walls that had faced him, he alone, absent, imprisoned, in pain, hungry, thirsty... The rock crumbled before him, and the ring opened to the long tunnel, and the water burst forth with force, sweeping everything with it.

The novel that won the Booker Prize 2023