– Jonathan Safran Foer
Less a work of fiction and more a piece of sculpture. Cannot be traditionally “read,” but must be “seen” to be believed. Similar to le Ouvroir de Littérature Potentielle, the book is only fully enabled by somewhat of a gimmick; but, it is not incapable of some crafty poeticisms, even if they were clearly unintended.
I don't know if I adore this book, or just adore the idea of it. I've read it multiple times, but despite that, I can't ever seem to recall a single thing that happens in it. It's not nonsensical poetry; it has a traditional plot, sort of. Yet despite trying, there are clearly holes in my memory.
... does that mean I remembered the book correctly?