It’s not at all clear what this very short novel is about, but that may be deliberate. “If you’re looking for the point, forget it. I keep scraps like this for the off-hours, and I don’t give up trying to make sense of them.” The many chapters are written in a sporadic stream of consciousness style that seems to leave out half the sentences. By that I mean that she jumps from one thought to the next without transition and without explanation. About halfway through, the protagonist says “I’ve got a little more to tell you about going crazy.” This is the first time that state of mind is even mentioned. It is never clear what she means by “crazy.” Is it the lack of clear thought? Is it the evident dissatisfaction with her life?

The screen behind your eyes is gone, and you can’t sort things out. You can stay away from people and cars and sit in a chair–if you try hard. But you want to get up and look for things that are lost and one thing reminds you of another until you are tempted to live like a nun in a bare room where you can concentrate on the sun and the dust. There’s nowhere to go and you can’t sit still. Think about it. And then forget it. I try to. What happened? Can it happen again?

There is no indication that this novella is an autobiographical memoir. In that case, it seems to me that if this is about someone going crazy (whatever that means), it behooves the author to make that a little clearer somehow.

Categories: Fiction