Review from a Transgressive Fiction Fan
If you’ve never read Ballard, and you’re curious, this is the book you want to start with. I won’t get into the plot or the antiseptic, yet haunting, prose. I’ll just say that all the motifs of Ballard are here, and they are presented with crystal clear precision, with touches of what I’d call industrial surrealism.
Some people find the book a little cold and detached — but that’s the whole point — Ballard is not a Garcia Marquez, he’s not painting a romantic picture full of pastels(I’m not knocking magical surrealism, nor pastels). Let me put it this way: if van Gogh & Garcia Marquez have similar styles – bright colors, rustic locales, than Ballard & Dali have similar styles – mechanical eroticisms, strange juxtapositions.
To understand Ballard you can’t approach him thinking you’re going to read something in the traditional “belles-lettres” sense… don’t get me wrong, his word’s are beautiful, but they are beautiful in the way a neon sign reflected in a puddle of rain on a darkened city street can be beautiful.
“Insightful” Review from a Mainstream Reader
I wish I could give zero stars. The fact that it has so many stars with so many reviews makes me really ashamed to be part of the human race. This was one of the most disgusting novels ever written by a human being.
Hold up, homie. I’m not saying I’m disturbed by sex or violence; I was raised on the B horror movie (call social services, must’ve had bad parents), so I’m no prude, but this novel was the biggest pile of rubbish I may have ever read.
Yeah, I’m that mad about it.