A novel so low key as to be nearly inaudible: Walking on the Ceiling

Though this novel has some strengths, including the writer's clear and confident writing style and an unusual structure in which the narrative, such as it is, is broken into 72 short chapters presented in seemingly random order, in the end Aysegul Savas's debut novel, Walking on the Ceiling (2019), is so low-key as to be nearly inaudible. She does a nice job introducing the protagonist, as young woman living in Paris who befriends and older, famous author with whom she takes many walks around various Paris neighborhoods, but after a point I just threw up my hands in frustration and annoyance. Nice set-up, but we expect something to happen, somewhere, somehow, in a novel: some kind of collision of forces, some course of development and maturation, some crisis or conflict, something! But in fact we get all of the pieces of the novel up front, and there's no discernible plot whatsoever. The writing style is fine, as noted above, but there are no striking passages or Proustian observations; in fact, the entire novel is something like the first 20 pages or so of a Sally Rooney novel - but Rooney knows that there comes a time when the author has to set her plot into motion. The protagonist has a # of potential or past love interests - including the famous author - but nothing is made of any of these relationships, actual or potential. Savas never tells us directly the identity of the "famous writer," whom she calls M., and of course he is something of a pastiche; my guess from the outset was Modiano - tall, living near the Luxemburg Gardens, famous novelist, a wanderer among obscure Paris neighborhoods, though to my knowledge he has never written about Turkey (as M. has). A little poking around on line reveals that Savas sent a day walking in Mexico w/ Paul Muldoon, erstwhile New Yorker poetry editor, in a relationship that seems to have meant more to her than to him - so who knows? In any event, there's enough here to expect more and better from Savas as her career develops, but this novel - despite a bit of a surprise in a late chapter about the death of the narrator's father - is a thin reed, or read.