This is a story of a man named Bloch who stalks and murders a woman, then roams about aimlessly going mad. Bloch's descent into madness manifests as detail and sensory fixations and the derealization of words losing their meaning. The storytelling is concise, but so numb that everything is equally insignificant. This requires the reader to do all the work to find significance from one moment to another. The entire exercise left me feeling Bloch's story was pointless to tell; because even his experience of pointlessness was pointless. 

Although I wouldn't necessarily recommend this book to others, not even fans of the Stranger, I'm happy I've read it. The final scene watching the eponymous goalie will have me thinking for a while.