Kavan's Ice: Written under a spell, and presented as a first draft unedited?

Section 10 (about the half-way point) in Anna Kavan's 1967 novel, Ice, is probably (along with section 1) the passage in this novel so far, largely because it steps aside from the so-called plot and just presents the scene, a landscape of global fear and destruction. Evidently vast stretches of the earth are becoming encased in ice, which has led to battles among rival factions in the ice-encrusted regions, panic and flight from these polar and far-northern (and southern?) latitudes, panic and inflation in the still habitable territories or countries, great disruptions and migrations, and a complete shutdown of global communications, with fact and information replaced by rumor. In a way, Ice becomes a dystopian - rather than a paranoid delusion - novel, and there have been many of those before and since 1967, but a few things make Ice a unique example from the genre. First, Kavan has no interest in the politics of this global catastrophe, nor in the science of the great freeze out. In some ways she anticipated the international concern w/ climate change, but she never actually attributes the encroaching ice to human action and malfeasance. In fact, Ice may not be a predictive narrative at all; it's possible that Kavan is imagining the destruction of much of the planet during the previous Ice Age (she makes it clear that human settlements are reduced to ruin, and the whole sociopolitical system seems medieval (at most): castles, fortresses, conveyance by boat (I think there are no references to trains and airplanes, not completely sure), feudal government, hand-to-hand combat, no reference to nuclear arms, to world history as we know it, certainly no anticipation of the advanced global communication of our age, no topical references to art or literature, etc. And of course it's possible that the entire novel is meant to be visionary rather than historic or predictive. A second difference between Ice and other dystopian novels is Kavan's indifference to plot and plausibility; the two central characters, each poorly defined, just proceed from one event and place to another, transported miraculously as we are often in dreams - she's not interest in the why the world is freezing or how people manage to survive, or not - boats just appear when needed, and the protagonist and the woman he's trying to rescue more ever-closer to the equatorial islands that hold a certain allure for the man (he's interested in a species of monkey that lives in Surinam, go figure). In short, the novel feels as if it were written under a spell and presented to us as a "completed" first draft, inconsistencies (plus many typographical errors in the Penguin reissue) be damned.