The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge, by Rainer Maria Rilke
Rilke wrote one novel, and this is it. At the time, he was living in Paris, having left his new wife and baby behind while he went in search of some income (and to get away from said baby, who was so inconsiderate as to cry and want to eat while he doing important stuff like being inspired and all; everyday life is too vulgar for a poet). Notebooks was largely written out of his experiences in Paris.
Malte Laurids Brigge is a young Danish aristocrat of sorts--the poor sort--living in Paris. His two notebooks/journals consist of his experiences, memories, and imaginings. There isn't really a plot to speak of; the thread goes back and forth and it's just like a real notebook in a real young man's life--a life based very much on Rilke's own. Sometimes he's looking at young women students copying the Cluny tapestries (see?? I told you they were everywhere), and sometimes he's thinking of his childhood in a large Danish manor house. I liked the childhood parts best, actually. He thinks about death a lot, of course; the deaths of his parents and death in general. It's totally unclear how he got from a rather fancy childhood to being down and out in Paris.
I found it wandery and was mostly not enthralled, though sometimes I was. Probably there are hidden depths that I didn't get, or maybe I'm just not a Rilke person.