Another vagary of the nouvelle vague and from characters without names (Mauriac) and thoughts and sentences without end (Sarraute, Simon) this relies on another technical Whim, events without any particular sequence: ""A life is composed of many elements. But the number of possible compositions is infinite."" Arrange it as you will, and it really doesn't matter, and you still will learn a little about X, the central character: his childhood as a cheat and a liar; his offenses now which include his neglect of his wife, Marianne, his relationships with Dagmar, and the much younger Helga, his involvement in a theft, an abortion, a serious collision. Dagmar is seen- painting- and drifting; Helga submitting and surrendering in one naked sequence after another; Marianne, keeping the vigil of a dying friend, etc., etc. This really has none of the aesthetic-intellectual merit of the other experimental novels, only its device which will intrigue or defeat the reader who, in this interesting form of pagination (295- 33-287-25-279-9- and on) won't even know whether he's half through.