Friday 30 November 2018

The Avon/Equinox Rediscovery Series #25: The Crystal World, by J. G. Ballard.


Click for a link to Ballard Page 2.  14 books and a movie reviewed by Ballard in this segment.

THE CRYSTAL WORLD 

Cover art by Stephen Fabian.  Equinox publication Sept., 1976.

 Only 2 volumes left in the series!  

J. G. Ballard (1930-2009) was an English novelist born in Shanghai.  In addition to the SF novels reviewed here, he also wrote screenplays to several successful films. 

From 1966 comes Ballard's 160-page end-of-the-world story, taking place in the Gabon jungle.  Dr. Edward Sanders works in a hospital that deals with leprosy, but decides to head inland to check on the well-being of a former lover and her doctor husband.  He has received a cryptic note from her, and wants to see for himself what she means by "The forest is the most beautiful in Africa, a house of jewels.... The light touches everything with diamonds and sapphires."

On the boat heading upriver to their hospital, Sanders meets Ventress, a mysterious small man who has a gun hidden in his suitcase.  There is also Father Balthus, a missionary returning to his flock in the jungle.  Arriving at Port Matarre, where the boat stops and goes back downriver, Sanders is immediately struck by an oddness to the light.  He begins to hear rumours of strange things happening deeper into the forest, and his curiosity is aroused.  At his small hotel he meets a female journalist, who is in search of her male reporter friend.  He went into the forest and is missing.  Sanders' medical friends are further up the river, and he must find a way to get to Port Royal.

And thus begins a very strange adventure, one filled with natural mystery, as the forest is becoming crystallized and frozen.  No one knows anything at all about it, though it is also happening in southern Florida, and in swampland in Russia.  It expands its territory day by day, and plants, animals, and people in its path are crystalized.  But the story also contains some strange human encounters, as Sanders soon finds out that Ventress is a dangerous man to be near.  Someone is trying to kill him.  This leads to several weird and violent encounters in the forest, with Sanders always seeming to be caught in the middle.  He also finally does encounter his former lover and her husband, and he even has a very strange final meeting with Balthus, the priest. Each of the human encounters gets tied in with the natural disaster that is occurring and spreading.

Of course John Christopher's 1956 "Death Of Grass" comes to mind as one reads Ballard's account of the end of the world as we know it, but this one has such bizarre elements to it that one knows immediately that, while Christopher likely was the inspiration for many other stories, this one is really different.  As a reader I really felt that a strange gloom or frost hung over the area as I read.  The characters, about half of whom are not normal in any sense of the word, add uneasiness and a general unsettled quality to the book.  However, unlike Christopher, we are allowed to see a positive side to the way things will soon be.  Some people who have experienced the beauty of the crystallization process actually want to become one with it, and leave behind the much more drab existence from whence they came.  In fact, this strong urge to become crystalized strongly affects Sanders, once his arm has had a taste of being encased by the oncoming frost.

Vague (and not very satisfying) scientific/mystical explanations are given by Ballard as to why this is happening, but it adds nothing to the story.  It doesn't matter so much, unless there was to be a sequel.  Just the fact that it is happening is good enough for this short novel.  We get to spend a lot of time in the forest, and by the end of the book we have an excellent sense of what is happening, if not why.  We learn that Miami is encased, and Florida is being evacuated.  And nothing can be done about it.  So Sanders' choice at the end is the only smart one available to him.  I'm not certain it would be mine, but the crystals do affect people differently, especially once it has hold of them.

This is a fun and fascinating book to read.  I loved the African setting, and the fact that the book stays geographically fixed.  I also liked the fact that we aren't dragged down by watching people search for a way to stop the advance of the crystals.  That would be an angle that a 1950s SF movie would have taken, with a way to stop the advance finally realized at the very end.  Ballard does not concern us with such things; perhaps a way to stop the advance will be found, but that is another story.   Recommended.  
*** 1/2 stars.  Reviewed Nov. 30th/18

 Cover of my Kindle edition. 

From 1962 comes Ballard's first full-length novel, at 158 pages.  While it contains a standard plot, standard characters, and a setting not without precedent in SF, none of these are the reasons why I will be coming back and reading this novel again.  Readers usually think of SF as being space oriented, exploring unknown worlds, and coming to grips with alien life forms.  However, in the two books I have read so far by Ballard, the action remains Earth-bound, and pretty much in one geographical location.  There is exploring, though it is inward.  Robert Kerans is not interested in the stars, but in one star in particular.  Our sun has gone wonky, and Earth is heating up quickly.  All of the ice has melted, and most major landforms and cities are underwater.  Human population has been reduced to about 5 million, mostly living at the poles.

As a scientist and doctor, Kerans has been involved with a research team, learning how plants and animals are adapting to the fast-changing climate.  Temperatures of 180 F are common at the equator, and reach 140 F at noon even in London, where our story is set.  He and a few others are becoming socially and emotionally unglued, as troubling dreams come to them.  Even when awake, they can feel the sun pulsing and booming.  The first to go walkabout is Harding, an officer who has become a loner amongst the crew.  Kerans isn't far behind.

While a standard plot is carried forth on one level--Kerans is trying to get Beatrice, a long-time solo resident, to move back north when the science team leaves in a few day; three people remain behind when the team returns to Greenland; scavenger invaders arrive and give the three a hard time--on another level we get to watch the social regression (focused especially upon Kerans) and inner confusion of those affected.  The three people--Kerans, another doctor from the team, and Beatrice--become more withdrawn, live essentially lonely and solo lives, and are strongly attracted to the heat and the lagoons.  They are becoming linked to their prehistoric past, and their reptilian brains are beginning to overshadow their modern ones.

In addition to giving us plenty to think about, we also get some wonderful end-of-the-world visuals.  The scavengers manage to drain some of the jungle lagoons, and we are treated to not only a submerged London, but the one that reemerges after the flood.  And yet Ballard makes this reemergence seem wrong, and we side with the threesome as they pine for the return of the water.

The ending is not abrupt, but more like a 60s song fadeout.  Kerans, heading south, seeks what he cannot find.  The further south he travels, the more the environment resembles the primordial soup.  With Earth's climate quickly heading in that direction, where living things will likely start over, there is no room for humans, not even ones getting in touch with their prehistoric memories.

This is one of the best end-of-the-world stories I have read, on par with John Christopher who also wrote about such things in the early 60s.  However, unlike Christopher it is not civilization that Ballard's hero seeks and hopes to restore; it is the exact opposite.  His journey is one that cannot have an ending, but it can, and does, have a beginning.  Highly recommended.
**** stars.  Reviewed February 2nd/19

THE DROUGHT (THE BURNING WORLD)

 Cover to my Kindle edition.  

This edition is about 200 pages long.  The story is from 1964.  The Kindle version contains an introduction by John Harrison, and following the story are afterwards by Ballard and Will Self.

There is imagination, and there is dream.  And then there is some type of uber imagination, the kind that defies description.  Ever try telling a really vivid dream to a friend?  It's a most difficult thing to do.  Listeners usually nod their heads, but really have no idea how important and how vivid that dream you are telling them about was.  Dreams are usually too personal to share.  Somehow, though, the best authors find ways around this dilemma.

Ballard takes inspiration from Tanguy, a French Surrealist painter.  Here is one example of his art that seems to apply to Ballard's story, though many others would also suit the idea.
An example of art by Yves Tanguy.  Ballard frequently refers to the French Surrealist artist in his story.  

The third novel by the author in a series of end-of-the-world scenarios is also the bleakest.  Without rain and water, life simply cannot exist.  In The Drowning, life carries on, though on a much different level than before the floods.  In The Crystal World, life was transformed into art.  But in The Drought, there is only desert, without life, without hope.  The world that Ballard illustrates in this novel is one where life is but a fleeting thing, drawn inevitably into a world where it cannot exist.

While it is doubtful that a worldwide drought of this magnitude could ever happen, at least for the reasons given by the author, it is easily conceivable that an entire continent could be affected, and in fact has been before.  The great dust bowl of the American Mid-West in the 1930s, and the many droughts that have affected California, parts of Africa, and Australia, illustrate beyond a doubt that things can get very bad.

The story is divided into four sections:  in the first section, the people of Hamilton and Mount Royal gradually leave for the coast, as the local lake and rivers dry up.  Charles Ransome, a doctor who is escaping the world and living on his houseboat, simultaneously begins to awaken to what is really happening to the world, and at the same time begins to withdraw from it.  He is surrounded by several characters that will remain in the story until the very end, all local characters he has come to know since his coming here to watch the lake disappear.

In the second section, Ransome finally heads to the coast, accompanied by three of the local characters to whom he is acquainted.  The journey reminds us of the one in Grapes of Wrath, and so does the part where the travellers finally arrive at the seacoast.  Ballard's description of the spread of humanity already present gives us the bleakest view of an overcrowded area devoid of resources to sustain them that I have ever come across. Finally, gaining access to the coast, the first section ends with some hope of survival for the characters.

The third section opens 10 years later, and we are given a good look at the emptiness and uselessness of life by the receding ocean.  Every day is a struggle for survival, distilling water, and capturing fish.  It is a non-existence, like being locked into a tedious dream from which the dreamer cannot awaken.  This second part is probably the bleakest scenario I have ever encountered in fiction; living from day to day cannot get any worse.

And so part four sees our four characters return to Hamilton and Mount Royal, on a journey through a Tanguy landscape that becomes more like a dream with each step they take homeward.  By this point, madness is prevalent in all of the main characters, including Dr. Ransome.  What other state of mind could enable a person to survive in such conditions and such desolation?  In the end, when Ransome finally sets off across the lake on his own, in search of the river that might give him life, even a change in the climate has no effect on his thinking or his outlook.  He exists in a timeless void, where there is nothing ahead of him, and even less left behind.  He is a man not only in isolation from his own kind, but from the planet he once knew and grew up with.

This is a sobering and unrelenting glimpse at something most people would not like to think about.  With climate change well on its way to destroying us and our precious planet, it's best to stay focused on the normal things--TV, consumer goods, birthdays, holidays, social media--all those wonderful things that keep us occupied, so we don't have to think about things that truly matter.  Readers are in for a dismal time reading this book, but also one of the most fascinating times they will ever get to experience.  Highly recommended.
**** stars.  Reviewed March 9th/19 

THE ATROCITY EXPERIMENT

Cover by Stanley Donwood  

First published as a novel in 1969, much of it came out in shorter blocks in avante-garde magazines.  In 1990 Ballard amended his controversial work by adding in comments at the end of each chapter.  I found these very helpful in understanding the work, and what Ballard was trying to accomplish.  The edition I read was published in 2014, indicating that this quintessential work from the 1960s still lives on.  My edition is 188 pages, plus 19 pages of introduction by two other writers.

I had some difficulty at first, and didn't think I would get much of out of reading this book without a lit professor helping me out.  However, the more I read the more my brain adjusted to the mood, tempo, and strange logic of the words in front of me.  It gradually began to make sense.  Ballard has written a surrealist work to match the painters he admires and quotes often here:  Max Ernst, Yves Tanguy, Dali, Magritte, and de Chirico.  If you are familiar with these artists, you will have a better understanding of this work.

Central themes include death by automobile accident and assassination; characters such as John F. Kennedy, Marilyn Monroe, Jayne Mansfield, and Ronald Reagan; and locations such as an abandoned air base and bombing range, a multi-story car park with slanting ramps, a beach, and Dealey Plaza in Dallas.  The main character is a doctor who is conducting experiments on himself, and a lot of it sounds much like LSD was involved.  Travers takes on other names within the narrative, too, but is essentially the same character.

In 1964, Ballard's wife died suddenly from complications from pneumonia.  Of course this devastated the writer, and he spent years trying to make sense of her death.  This novel was one attempt at such an investigation.  Ballard links science and pornography in a very unique manner, as well as cars accidents with sexual arousal.  Yes, it is a strange book, but it really does make sense after even one reading, and I must admit to agreeing with him on many points.

The book may not meet everyone's definition of SF writing, but (at least in 1970), was undoubtedly seen as being rather futuristic in outlook.  It's difficult to recommend the book, but if you do attempt to read it, use the end-of-chapter notes by Ballard to help you out, and keep at it.  Don't quit after 20 pages.
***1/2 stars.  Reviewed April 29th/19 

CRASH: A NOVEL  

Cover to my Kindle edition. 

From 1973 comes this strangely compelling novel, considered avant-garde at the time of its writing, and vilified by many for its explicit linking of sex to car crashes.  My version ran for 216 pages, not including the decent new introduction by Zadie Smith, an English novelist.

Ballard plays himself in the story, though not really.  However, as the character's obsession with car crashes grows, it becomes more than perhaps just a coincidence that Ballard was involved in a serious crash after the novel came out.  Though hardly a mainstream novel, the fetishism of injury car crashes certainly rings true.  Almost any crash brings out the bystanders, staring silently as injured bodies are removed from vehicles by fire and paramedic personnel.  People driving past crashes on roads and highways often cause further crashes by staring as they pass by, not thinking about their driving.  However, this book is not about road safety.  Rather, it is about the human body being shaped to the technology that envelops it.

Unlike his previous The Atrocity Exhibition, this one is a true narrative novel, with a beginning, middle, and end.  In almost every other way, however, it differs from anything else I have ever read.  At first I thought that it would have made at best a decent short story, about Vaughn, a modern day stalker and ghoul, continually seeking first hand knowledge and experience by spending his nights driving from crash to crash, listening to his police scanner.  Many people do such things today.  A bit later I conceded that well, perhaps it could be a novella, if stretched out a little bit.  There is a lot of repetition of words and phrases, situations, and even events.  The entire story takes place within a few miles of Heathrow Airport (then called London Airport), specifically the Oceanic Terminal (now called Terminal 3).

As I read more and more of the story, often wishing it would soon end, I became aware of what Ballard was actually doing.  Like a good soup, it is best to simmer it over a long period of time, rather than just quickly heat it up once created.  Ballard is trying to create his urban dystopia and make it seem as real and normal as someone like Vaughn or Ballard (in the novel) would see it.  We don't exactly become numb to the proceedings, but we do know what to expect after a while, and are not too surprised when it happens.  Another benefit of this writing is that afterwards we can open the book virtually anywhere and be right back in its milieu.  Reading even one page will bring back the entire experience vividly.

I really liked the climax of the story, which takes place during Vaughn and Ballard's acid trip drive.  This is a really good description of an LSD trip, and even their homosexual act has been expected by now for a long time.  There is very little that is shocking to a well read reader of 2019, but it must have been a real experience trying to digest this back in 1973!  Having said that, if you are into cars, I mean really into cars, then you will be offended by this novel.  Facing up to the truth is something most people shy away from.  In 2013 (latest statistics from WHO) 1.25 million people died worldwide in traffic deaths.  That does not count the walking (or not walking) wounded.  Sobering.  Just like Ballard's novel.

I have not seen the movie version, but I am on the look out for it.

*** stars.  Reviewed June 15th/19

CRASH: THE MOVIE  

I think it makes much more sense to first read Ballard's novel, at least as much of it as you can.  Cronenberg's film captures many of the main scenes, though he mysteriously changes the ending.  He also leaves out anything to do with airports, terminals, and jumbo jets.  However, he does a great job with the car crashes and the sex.  Deborah Kara Unger gives perhaps the best performance of a sexy woman in heat that I have ever seen; she positively smoulders in her roll as Ballard's wife.  Elias Koteas is suitably creepy as Vaughn.  The rest of the cast are good, but these two are the best.
 A must-see film if you survived the novel. 

Of course everything is abridged in the movie, but this is not a bad thing.  We get the point.  The novel would have benefited from about 30 or 40 less pages, too.  I liked the movie, with its kinky in-car sex, the depiction of car crash voyeurism, and its high octane stunt driving.  Recommended, though if you have not read the book you may be in for some surprises.
*** 1/2 stars.  Reviewed June 18th/19

CONCRETE ISLAND: A NOVEL 

 I read the Kindle edition. 

I did not find the novel profound, but it was compelling.  Near the beginning I was certain that I would strongly dislike this story from 1974, despite the fact that Neil Gaiman, who wrote the introduction, loved it.  I found it all too contrived and manipulative.  A man has a car crash, travelling down a steep embankment.  He cannot escape, firstly since no one stops for him, and then secondly because he is hit by a speeding car with no headlights as he tries to cross to safety.  He falls back down the steep embankment.  The author also had to arrange  Maitland's previous life so that no one would miss him for a week or so.  The novel, at 156 pages plus intro, is quite tedious at the beginning.  Then it actually becomes more tedious!  Why is it so compelling?

Well, the average reader wants to see this man escape his prison.  He is wounded, feverish, starving, and desperate, so we hope he will get help.  It's human nature to want this for him.  But Ballard, knowing this, plays on our hopes, and instead has to carefully go about convincing us that this nightmare will truly end when Maitland wants it to.  Each time we think that Maitland will escape, his (and our) hopes are dashed.  Like Maitland, we soon realize the game that is being played here.  There will be no physical escape, but there is the possibility of mentally escaping his prison.

In the end, the book is hard to put down. We realize that Maitland, by the time we arrive at the last page, is able to leave whenever he wishes, and he likely will when his mind is in order.  Once his comfort level is acceptable once again (wounds healed, fever gone), he has some hard thinking to do before resuming his previous life.  At the moment, though, he is alone and king of his little world.  That suits him just fine.

Like most Ballard fiction, this story will not appeal to everyone.  However, it is very accessible to readers compared to his Crash and The Atrocity Exhibition.  In many ways it is similar in theme to The Crystal World, The Drowning World, and The Burning World.  If you have never before been tempted to try his non-SF prose, then this might be a good place to start.
*** stars.  Reviewed August 3rd/19

HIGH RISE 

I read the Kindle edition. 

Written in 1975, my edition is from 2014.  It is 258 pages long, and contains an intro by Ned Beauman, a British novelist.  There is also a brief interview with Ballard, found at the end of the novel.  Having lived in a modern downtown highrise, on the 21st floor (of 32), I can say that Ballard's distopia is taking place in some shape or form in such buildings all over the world.  For the most part, it's like moving to Hell.  We got out after two years, so I guess my main question to Ballard is this:  Why didn't people get out?  Just what was the attraction that kept every single person not only remaining in the building, but keeping it a secret and not telling anyone else what was happening?  No one has relatives that visit?  No one has outside company?  No policemen or women lived in the building?   
It is one thing to create a hypothetical situation and allow it to grow and form (or deform) into its own unique system.  But there must be some inner logic that holds it all together, and some allowance must be made for some to escape.  Merely to have everyone stay on and living there until they either die or devolve into some form of early pre-human, is a bit of a stretch.  Like his previous novel, where a man cannot escape from a traffic circle after a car accident, and then doesn't want to escape, Ballard is writing the same story but from a different angle.  And dragging it out to book length, which isn't necessary.  We get the idea rather early on. 

Ballard, it turns out, is not really interested in people and what they might or might not do in various situations; he is interested in what his readers (of whom he is one) might want those characters to do.  The characters are more like chess pieces than human, and become more robotic as the novel progresses.  Everyone loves violence, right?  I mean, we practically worship violence.  News, TV programs, films, novels, comics, contact sports, are all projections of what lies deep inside every one of us.  We have a core of evil and wrong thinking lying just beneath the surface (what Edgar Rice Burroughs often referred to as the "thin veneer of civilization"), and it relishes every opportunity to come out of hiding.  Not feeling like actually doing an act of violence yourself?  Of course not, you are too civilized for that.  But you can watch someone else do it, and get at least some of the thrills from the experience.

Humans have evolved very little since true civilization began to spread, around 5,000 years ago.  The Roman arena was the ideal place for the worst of humanity to shine brightly.  Now we have football matches in Europe, and hockey and a different type of football over here in North America.  Well, what if you dislike sports?  No problem; intellectuals have books such as this one to read, where they can pretend that if faced with such a situation as the people in this high rise, they would handle things differently (or the same, depending on the person).

Of course Ballard did not mean that such things as happen in this story would literally happen; he merely stretches the small acts of impersonal behaviour, the social slights, the aloofness one encounters in elevators and hallways, to their ultimate limit, the breaking point of civilization.  And it really isn't that far down.  Ever heard of road rage?  Ballard's high rise antics play out everyday on our roads, where murder sometimes does occur over a minor traffic incident.

The novel has three main characters, all male.  There are plenty of female characters, some strong and some weak, but they are always secondary.  Ballard realizes that in primitive society, there are usually strong lines drawn between female and male roles.  None of the characters are very deep or interesting.  Laing, the M.D., somehow reminds me of Dr. Prunesquallor!  Wilder is a TV documentarian, and Royal, who lives in the penthouse, is the architect of the 40 storey building.

Watching things fall apart is fun at first, and you do wonder where Ballard is going with all this.  Here is a quote from midway through the book that helps explain things a little.  A minor character is speaking:

"The model here seems to be less the noble savage than our un-innocent, post-Freudian selves, outraged by all that over-indulgent toilet training, dedicated breast feeding and parental affection--obviously a more daring mix than anything our Victorian forebears had to cope with.  Our neighbours had happy childhoods to a man and still feel angry.  Perhaps they resent never having had a chance to become perverse."

This is a very interesting quote, and strikes to the heart of Ballard's book and what he is attempting.  Was he successful?  To some extent yes, and to another, no.  I have to believe in logic to some degree, which all but disappears from the story.  In Heinlein's Orphans of the Sky, we can understand the devolution of the inhabitants, trapped for generations in a star ship, forgetting their origins and becoming tribal by level of the ship.  No doubt Ballard read that novel more than once preparing for this one.  If he had had even a few characters eventually leave the building, and escape back into the outside world, especially women with young children, it might have helped relieve some of the pressure readers feel.  But no one escapes.  Death and madness are the only options.  Is this what will become of an overpopulated world?  Are we destined to die violently or drive one another mad as the world gets more crowded?

On a purely literary note, I loved this short description of Alice, Laing's sister, as she lay in a torpor on her mattress, near the end of the book.  "Trying to focus on him (Laing), her tired eyes drifted about in her head like lost fish."  That is great imagery!

The book is difficult to recommend.  I liked some of it a lot, and disliked much of it a lot.  There is plenty of violence, including against domestic animal companions.  Much of it seems pointless and arbitrary.  I found the main characters dreary and uninteresting.  I loved the building itself, and the early stages of its decline.  But by the end, I had tired of Ballard's experiment.  A novella, perhaps.  As a full-length novel, not for me.  I think in general people will only be attracted to the violence, and psychos will have wet dreams about such a future occurring.  They can imagine themselves playing at survival, where of course they will survive (like the character Wilder; well, almost).  This sort of thing was handled more effectively and artistically by Ward Moore, in his Lot and Lot's Daughters.  Two very short stories that sum up nearly everything about human beings who think they can survive the ultimate disaster.
** stars.  Reviewed September 25th/19

THE UNLIMITED DREAM COMPANY  

 Cover of my Kindle edition.  

It takes time for me to read an entire novel by Ballard.  This one took me 5 days.  His writing is rich, not only in detail, but in metaphor.  Each page is like wandering into a new landscape, or rather the same one dressed differently each time we see it.  This work is from 1979, and my edition runs to 224 pages.  There is an intro by John Gray, the British philosopher, and an interview postlude with Ballard, as well as a NYTs review of the book just after it came out, called "Fly Away," by Malcolm Bradbury.

Ballard has issues, some stemming from his childhood incarceration in China with his family, and some stemming from the accidental death of his wife in 1964, and some from just being human, like the rest of us.  His novels seem to fixate on sex a lot, as well as death and destruction.  And while there are many disturbing scenes in the present novel, for the most part it is like one long, very beautiful dream.  A man who has failed at several endeavours steals a Cessna from an airfield, flies it until he crashes into the Thames River alongside Shepperton, London, and dies.  Or doesn't.

It isn't really important if Blake, the pilot, is dead, or in a coma and dreaming (like in Iain Banks' memorable novel The Bridge).  What is important is the journey on which he embarks when he frees himself from the plane and swims to shore.  From the crash into the river until the last period, the novel becomes a surreal fantasy worth of some of the best fantasy writers who ever lived.  Ballard mixes the natural world (fishes, birds, animals, plants, trees) with the human one, including the ubiquitous multi-story car park, rusting cars, appliances, furniture, and statues and parks.  Blake is learning, from his first swim to shore following his crash, to be a creator.

His journey is complex, and his motives are sometimes a bit questionable, such as his attempted rape of Rachael, a little blind girl, early on in the story.  He claims to be learning about his powers, with strong roots in paganism, and realizes later that it wasn't sex that was motivating him, but wanting to absorb other people--adults and children, into his body.  Once he manages this feat, he is well on his way to becoming who he has always wanted to become.  His dominance over the town of Shepperton and its people is a multi-step process, and we get to go along for the full ride.

What strikes me most about this novel is Blake's ability to maintain his direction and purpose all through it, learning a bit more about himself and others as he goes.  At first he seems to take, and only take, but bit by bit he learns to give back.  This lesson is paramount to understanding Ballard's work, and though it may sound trite, his approach and self-discovery method is unique to me, and rewarding to read.  I like Blake, and the path that he chose for himself.  Sometimes his methods might seem out of keeping with political correctness (damn that phrase and what it stands for), but he learns and is constantly improving himself.  His awesome powers are ageless, sexless, and ultimately selfless, and watching him achieve his ultimate goal (to fly) is a journey worth taking.  Read the book, but not too quickly.  It's like a giant Dagwood sandwich, and requires some time to consume and digest.
**** stars.  Reviewed November 6th/19 

HELLO AMERICA 

 Cover by Stanley Donwood.  Photography by Hecate Moon. 

From 1981 comes this almost straight-forward novel by Ballard.  I read the Kindle edition.  The novel is 224 pages.  There is a short introduction by Ben Marcus, written in 2014, as well as an author's note from 1994.  After the novel, there is a short biography by Travis Elborough, written in 2008..

We get to visit America from east to west, post apocalypse.  Severe climate change has made America virtually uninhabitable, as a vast desert begins on the Atlantic and extends westward to the Rockies.  99.9% of Americans have returned for Europe, after having exhausted the natural resources of their own country.  Though similar in theme to Ballard's own The Drought, from 1964, the dried up America as witnessed by the author of 1981 has been through the sixties, the Vietnam war, and more than one energy crisis.  To readers back then, Ballard's world must have seemed more than plausible.  How much more plausible today, then, does it seem to a reader from 2019?  First world countries, especially the United States, deny there is any climate crisis, as Europe finally begins to awaken to the possibility.  Ballard's America in this novel isn't merely a warning; it's a very probably pathway.

After spending time in New York, covered in dunes and cacti, a small expedition from the sailing ship Apollo strike out south for Washington.  Next, they head west, passing St. Louis, Kansas City, and Abilene, before finally having a life-changing event occur in Dodge City, KS.  The hallucinatory experience that occurs here is a highlight of the novel, and to me, the turning point for Wayne, Anne, and even Steiner.  Ballard's ability to evoke dreamlike realities is astounding, even after 9 books.  And he hits the jackpot yet again once we get over the mountains and see the lit up wonder that is Las Vegas. 

From here, the novel takes another twist and becomes a more standard adventure story, sort of a Ballard twist on a story one might have found in a men's magazine of the pulp era.  Things begin to unravel a bit here, in my opinion, though the character of the professor is a fascinating one, with his 44 presidents robot squad, and his pure fantasy-themed flying machines.  While I could do without all the shooting and killing that occurs, this is, after all, a book called Hello America.  For me, though, the best part is the voyage to get to Las Vegas.  I would reread that part in a moment!

Definitely a keeper, there is much to love about the novel.  While its shift to a more standard thriller near the end disappointed me, at least the ending did not disappoint.  Highly recommended, and worth more than one read.
*** 1/2 stars.  Reviewed December 26th/19

EMPIRE OF THE SUN 

 Cover design uncredited.  

From 1984 comes Ballard's 351 page meditation on war, and especially how it affects a certain "Jamie", a child of 11 at the beginning, and nearly fifteen by the end.  The story takes place in and around Shanghai, beginning just before the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbour, and concluding several months after the war ended.  While Jamie's events in the novel are fictionalized, Ballard was exactly that age when he and his family were interred by the Japanese at this exact time.  And all of the events described, including the sinking of the British ship Petrel and the capture of an American gunboat at the beginning, to the bombing and food drops near the end, are pretty much the way things actually happened.

While Ballard certainly pulls no punches, and another book with more dead bodies in it likely does not exist in fiction, the character of Jamie seems lost in a perpetual haze, as if a large part of his brain and reasoning has simply been turned off by the events surrounding and engulfing him.  Survival instincts remain, but the ability to perceive what is really happening is numbed by this internal shutdown of cognitive ability.  No doubt this is what might happen to the lucky ones in Jamie's position--separated from his parents, used roughly by various criminals, and, worst of all, basically starving for most of the story.

This is a very complex book, and I have no wish to fully analyze and explain it.  The horrors of war, especially those affecting civilians, simply has no limit.  The cruelties of the Japanese are mostly unforgivable, especially considering the ones living today and in political power who refuse to believe that any atrocities were ever committed by their soldiers.  I believe the correct term would be, as one fearless American leader would say, "It's fake news."  Well, the things that happened were so outrageously against human nature that I can understand how someone would not wish to believe these events happened.  Truth is not only much, much stranger than fiction, but much, much crueler as well.

After a while the reader becomes as numb as Jamie to what is happening to the people within the camps (Europeans), and without (Chinese peasants).  As food gets scarcer and scarcer, and more good people succumb to malnutrion, the desperation becomes almost unapproachable.  No reader today can even begin to fathom the hardships endured, not only by the Europeans who were captured, but by the Chinese.  Especially the Chinese.  I have never had more sympathy for the Chinese than I had while reading this book.  Treated likeill-used dogs and human garbage by the Europeans living in Shanghai before the war, the Japanese treated them much worse.  To this day there is a wide political and emotional gulf separating Japan from the rest of Asia because of WW11, no greater than the one between Japan and China.  Completely understandable.

Ballard also wrote a book about his actual experiences living in a prison camp with his parents, which is not to be confused with Empire of the Sun.  It will be read and reviewed in its turn.  Something that may surprise readers is that Jamie, in this novel, sympathizes with the Japanese, and wants to become a pilot in their air force someday.  This is especially true at the beginning, when they are winning the Asian war hands down.  Jamie likes the Americans, but has little stomach for the British, who he finds do nothing but whine and complain all the time.

Everything seen and heard in this novel came about in some way due to the experiences Ballard had as a child in Shanghai during WW11.  One thing that never goes away, besides death and rotting corpses, is the plague of flies.  They are everywhere, by the billions.  This, to me, makes the book seem more real and more true than any other aspect of it.  Though not a difficult book to read, due to Jamie's cool perceptions of events, it is a book that will never go away once it has been read.
**** stars.  Reviewed February 7th/20


THE DAY OF CREATION 
 
 Cover artist uncredited  

From 1987 comes another Ballard classic novel, this one lasting for 288 pages.  My Kindle edition contains a short introduction by Joshua Cohen (an American novelist), as well as an interview with Ballard afterwards.  There are 35 chapters of varying length.

Ballard has reached deep into mythology for this story of a doctor is central Africa who has given up medicine to try and drill for water.  His scientific methods prove fruitless, but an accidental toppling of a giant oak stump by a bulldozer he is directing brings forth a veritable Biblical stream of water, growing exponentially from day to day.  We witness the birth of the stream, its enlargement by another one caused by a volcanic event, and soon the doctor is obsessed with not only destroying the river he has created (named after him as The Mallory), but also in finding its source.

He is assisted by an almost ghost-like young African female child, and a film director hoping to make a winning documentary.  Against him are guerrillas, the army they are fighting, and a white woman who once ran an animal breeding station with her husband, before he was killed by the guerrillas.  Most against him, however, is his own demented brain, as he embarks on a form of slow suicide by his journey up the world's newest river.

While plot is important in Ballard's novels, it is far from being most important.  Imagery is all, and Ballard uses (to great effect) an over-abundance of simile, with many sentences including the words "as if...", or "like."  In this novel, the writing is clearer, and the goal more defined, than in most of his previous works.  It is similar in some ways to High Rise and Concrete Island, but more goal-centered, since the protagonist knows what he wants to do, even though he doesn't really want to do it (destroy the river).

This is a physical journey, as well as a spiritual, emotional, and symbolic one.  It is a journey not to deepest and darkest Africa (which has been done, obviously), but to a litter-strewn, disease-ridden, forgotten and ignored part of the world.  This Africa is very much a modern creation, rather than a place we could actually go and visit.  Still, the reality lies very close to the fantasy, and though told from the extremely troubled mind of a white doctor, it is not hard to extrapolate the reality and form a picture of what life might be really like in more than place on that vast continent.

There are parallels to English fairy tales and other world mythologies, but I believe the book is best enjoyed as a unique novel, taking us to exotic locations and meeting with eccentric and exotic people.  The story has many satisfying moments, as well as many frustrating ones.  The best parts are just being on the river, in various locations, aboard the Salammbo, especially mornings or evenings.  A one of a kind book, and well worth exploring.
**** stars.  Reviewed March 20th/20

RUNNING WILD  

 I read the Kindle edition.  

From 1988 comes this disturbing novella of extreme dystopia within a private utopia.  My version, which includes an introduction by Adam Philips, and an interview with the author, is 110 pages long.  While the premise, like many of Ballard's stories, is absurd, and can could never actually happen as told, the author postulates an interesting theory.  Namely, what kind of people are we turning out today?  He focuses on an exclusive gated community outside Reading, England, a small group of houses under guard and surveillance 24 hours a day and populated by high income earning professionals and their children.

The children are smothered in love, praise, the right education, the right books, the right past times, and the right outlook on life.  It all backfires horribly, though officials refuse to accept the truth.  All of the parents, two guards, and several housekeepers are murdered one morning.  The children simply disappear, vanishing into thin air.  There are at least a dozen theories put forth, but only a wily police sergeant and Dr. Greville, assigned to the case by Scotland yard, are able to piece together the truth, and what really happened on that fateful Saturday morning.

To me what is even more alarming than the deeds themselves and who committed them, is the way society and officials are unable to face the truth.  The Columbine killings did not occur until 1999, and Sandy Hook was in 2012.  London knife crime by disenfranchised British youth was not yet an epidemic.  I guess the saddest part of reading this story today is that it is only all too easy to accept who the murderers are, and why they did it.  A quote from the story:

"What they were rebelling against was a despotism of kindness.  They killed to free themselves from a tyranny of love and care."

What a unique proposition, and one so far ahead of its time.  We are so used to reading about children from disadvantaged backgrounds committing serious crimes, that this one takes us aback.  It is a startling theory.  Are children growing up today suffering from too much love and care?  Hardly, though I'm certain that there are exceptions.  The story is disturbing on so many levels, this updating of The Midwich Cuckoos (1957) is certain to shock many parents even today, who would reject its premise as "stuff and nonsense."  One can only hope that the story is only stuff and nonsense.

A strangely fascinating story, and certainly recommended.
**** stars.  Reviewed April 28th/20

THE KINDNESS OFWOMEN


From 1991 comes this 286 autobiographical novel, bringing us up to date on James Ballard's life after Shanghai.  I waited six months to read this after Empire, and I felt that the pause was a good one.  The first section of the book is a quick recap of some Shanghai events, and then we are brought to England.  Ballard is the rare writer who can write non-fiction as well or even better than fiction.  This is a minor masterpiece of writing, and one of the most unique looks at the 1960s that was ever penned.

Though for the most part ensconced in suburban Shepperton, outside of London, Ballard proves that suburban life need not be mundane, even if raising three children mostly alone.  The book is divided into three sections, with the middle one holding the most weight and substance.  Ballard's boyhood in Shanghai coloured nearly every minute of his life afterwards, and his novels make so much more sense after reading this account of post-war life in England.

With his three children grounding him in a world of fantasy and reality, and a few strong friendships, Ballard manages to not quite overcome his past, but to live with it, and use it as a basis for everything he wrote.  His books never sold enough, at least up until the filming of Empire, but as a result his life is proof that one must do what one's heart dictates.  Giving up medical school after two years so that he could turn his attention to writing must have been a decision that he thought he would live to regret.  Giving up creature comforts to write SF and fantasy was not an easy step to take, but for him it was a natural one.

He has a gift for drifting through scenarios, his life a series of episodic adventures, sometimes centred around merry-go-rounds, discarded tv and movie props, and the banks of the Thames.  His revelations about sex and violence, as in his exhibit of wrecked cars at an avante-garde gallery in London, are so true, and yet people have still not really grasped what he was saying.

Sharing his life with us in such an enlightened and highly readable format is a gift that he left us that is beyond value, allowing us to share his horrors, sorrows, and joys as if they were our own.  A part of me will always believe that I lived through the war in Shanghai, and attended anatomy class at Cambridge.  It feels now like I have three grown children who I watched grow up, participating in some of their adventures, and leaving many others to them alone.

This is a very rich book, and while it is not essential to have read Empire first, it is highly recommended.  And leave some time between reading the two books.  First class writing filled with insights and small human touches.  And an awful lot of sex.  Having heard of the now famous Rio film festival, the view I now have of it is, I believe, the authentic one.  A must read.
**** stars.  Reviewed July 14th/20

RUSHING TO PARADISE 

 I read the Kindle edition. 

From 1994 comes this 240 page novel of the South Seas and an island paradise.  Of sorts.  My edition came with a short introduction by Rivka Galchen, an American contemporary writer.  Her intro does not contain spoilers, and can be read before Ballard.  At the end of the book is a biography that mentions this novel a few times.  It, too, is worth reading.

Dr. Barbara is in Hawaii, and she is on a mission to save the albatross.  She manages to hook a few people, and they sail to a lonely French island occupied by the military, who want to resume atom bomb testing.  Her young protege, Neil, a 16 year old athletic boy, is shot by a soldier on the island.  The expedition and its aftermath go viral, and support for Dr. Barbara flourishes.  She is able to rid the island of the military, and take it over as a bird sanctuary.

Without giving too much away, the novel focuses on Neil and Dr. Barbara.  She has lost her license to practice medicine, since she was euthanizing her terminally ill patients.  Neil comes completely under her spell, and even when all truths become known, he still cannot find it in his heart to reject her.  The truths that become known made the book a difficult read, especially if the reader is sympathetic to people who dedicate their lives to animal rights.  The humour, such as it is, is very black, and is very unkind to many animals and birds.  That such a person as Dr. Barbara could ever exist is not the point--there have been at least many like her somewhere, at some time.  The point is that we get an up front look at one of the strangest, most ill-conceived projects to ever receive support from many countries and the general public.

The story itself is quite bland, and despite major catastrophic events occurring almost daily on the island, it is told in a matter of fact way, as if describing the normal day of some suburban enclave outside a very modern city.  Ballard can be a very dry writer, and usually the drier he becomes the more significant the events occurring. We often wonder as we read if a boy like Neil could really come under the spell of Dr. Barbara the way he did.  While he does eventually awaken to what is going on, he never fully accepts it, or holds Dr. Barbara responsible.  We certainly do.

The book will do nothing to enhance the reputation of "animal rights kooks."  I doubt if such a person would be able to finish reading the book.  I support Greenpeace in a small way, and have been vegan since 1985.  But that doesn't put me anywhere near Dr. Barbara's category.  I kept thinking as I read that I should be more involved in day to day animal welfare.  By the end, I realized that the difference I would make would be less than negligible.  At least I try to do no harm.  Dr. Barbara, on the other hand, with her Amazon island women, has other intentions.  A difficult book to recommend, and even to finish, though it does offer rewards to the loyal reader.  If this is your first Ballard novel, please try another one.
**** stars.  Reviewed June 8th/2020

Page was proof read on March 13th/19
Mapman Mike