An epidemic of white blindness, an internment ward, and a single woman who can still see and says nothing about it.
No quotation marks, no names, paragraphs that run for pages. The style is a barrier for about thirty pages and then becomes the only way the book could work, because you stop being able to tell who is speaking, which is the condition everyone in it is living under.
It goes further into degradation than almost anything else I have read, and the thing it is testing is how fast arrangements collapse when nobody can be observed.
Read April 1996.
