A Void is a 300-page French novel (titled La Disparition in French) that never once employs the letter “E”
I really admire the translator who put this into English. I tried this in English class once, just 100 words, and it was HARD. That’s why my A-Z post today is a tribute to the most used letter in the English alphabet.
Below is the first few opening paragraphs from A Void:
Which at first calls to mind a probably familiar story of a drunk man waking up with his brain in a whirl
Incurably insomniac, Anton Vowl turns on a light. According to his watch it’s only 12.20. With a loud and languorous sigh Vowl sits up, stuffs a pillow at his back, draws his quilt up around his chin, picks up his whodunit and idly scans a paragraph or two; but, judging by its plot impossibly difficult to follow in his condition, its vocabulary too whimsically multisyllabic for comfort, throws it away in disgust.
Padding into his bathroom, Vowl dabs at his brow and throat with a damp cloth.
It’s a soft, warm night and his blood is racing through his body. And indistinct murmur wafts up to his third-floor flat Far off, a church clock starts chiming – a chiming as mournful as a last post, as an air-raid alarm, as and SOS signal from a sinking ship. And in his own vicinity, a faint lapping sound informs him that a small craft is at that instant navigating a narrow canal.
For more fun with writing challenges, try Googling “Oulipo.”