Let me sing to you the praises of César Aira. Earlier this year, I read Ghosts, and now I'm in the middle of reading How I Became a Nun, his "autobiographical" novella, translated in 2007 and out from New Directions. It's a weird little story: it's unclear right off the bat whether the child narrator is a girl or a boy, and pronouns rarely emerge, creating a sense of identity crisis from the start. Also, in the story's macabrely funny beginning, the narrator's father beats an ice cream vendor to death and sets in motion the rest of the action.
In the picaresque tradition, the little narrator has a tendency to lie to everyone and make inexplicable decisions not based on logic but rather on situation. Aira, apparently, employs" an avant-garde aesthetic in which, rather than editing what he has written, he engages in a 'flight forward' (fuga hacia adelante) to improvise a way out of the corners he writes himself into." (Wiki) This is evident, as the narrator's decisions often seem unfounded in the sequence of events but rather on flights of fancy or implausible gut reactions. The result is often hilarious.
Another thing about Aira, at least in the two novellas of his that I've read: he tends to dwell on matters of architecture, and has a particular thing for the unfinished structure. Characters often founder around construction sites: staircases without banisters; dry pools; the unrenovated wing of a prison, with its dead-end crannies. The effect is eerie: since the setting is unfinished, it isn't concrete, and because of this it seems plausible for phantoms or other illogical phenomena to appear at any time (even if they don't).
Aira rarely gives interviews, but here is an interview published in BOMB.