Matt's Reviews > Crash

Crash by J.G. Ballard
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Jan 17, 2011

it was amazing

I steered clear (pun intended) of this one after seeing a botched film adaptation by the otherwise trusty hand of David Cronenberg, but something about that cover and the potential for high fucked-upedness (the criterion by which I select po-mo fiction) proved to be too much. Spent a sleazy NY train ride from JFK to points north engrossed in this shit, in disbelief at the kinds of sacrosanct thought-wad shooting from mind and hands of J.G. Ballard. Lots of repetitive British nouns to drive you crazy (ballast ballast ballast ballast ballast ballast ballast -- heard again on great Teardrop Explodes track "Second Head" from their LP Kilimanjaro, one of my all-time top placings), and very accurate descriptions of proper adult sexual ennui. His section on consumption of LSD pretty much sums it up. As a whole, it's approximately 88 percent of what you wish people said to each other, and I'm very glad I read it before I got too old to appreciate the immaturity of a human Snoopy-as-Red Baron wheelman who does all sorts of vile things you either read about or need to so you can titter away at it while adults shake their heads at you because they already read this one on some faraway beach or heard about it in a magazine. Haven't found a book of his to replicated this experience though I have tried.
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