If you’d like an idea of her style in the doorstoppers, her website is representative. Click on a random page in the second half and the experimentation leaves House of Leaves in the dust. Unfortunately, only The Weight of Things has been translated into English.

When an author of tomes publishes a featherweight, one expects the most calculated, condensed piece possible, which it is.

Above all, though, it is bleak. 

It’s a woman’s struggle with loneliness and mental illness. You can tell it’s a tale of hopelessness—despite it beginning with lightheartedness—from the get-go but the weight begins to accumulate in a manner simultaneously predictable and surprising. It’s like a meandering train. You don’t know every station along the route or who gets on and off but you know the last stop, the climax of the journey, will be utter depression. 

It’s about motherhood and the remnants of the Holocaust in post-war Austria. It has some puns and experimentation, but the crux rests on a head-hopping stream-of-consciousness-esque style—the type where dreams and reality merge. I cannot recommend it enough.