First in a two volume collection of short stories by the acclaimed author of ‘Empire of the Sun’, ‘Crash’ and ‘Super-Cannes’. The new edition is introduced by Adam Thirwell. ‘A one-man genre. He was impregnably sui generis. No one is or was remotely like him’ Martin Amis
For over four decades, J. G. Ballard was one of Britain’s most celebrated and original novelists. However, during his long career he was also a prolific writer of short stories, a form in which many argue he laid his firmest claim to greatness.
This, the first book in a two-volume collection, offers an unparalleled introduction to a master storyteller. Set out in the original order of publication, its stories – many of them embryos for later novels – present the full imaginative range of one of Britain’s greatest writers.
This edition is part of a new commemorative series of Ballard’s works, featuring introductions from a number of his admirers (including Ali Smith, Iain Sinclair, Martin Amis and Ned Beauman) and brand-new cover designs from the artist Stanley Donwood.
James Graham "J. G." Ballard (15 November 1930 – 19 April 2009) was an English novelist, short story writer, and essayist. Ballard came to be associated with the New Wave of science fiction early in his career with apocalyptic (or post-apocalyptic) novels such as The Drowned World (1962), The Burning World (1964), and The Crystal World (1966). In the late 1960s and early 1970s Ballard focused on an eclectic variety of short stories (or "condensed novels") such as The Atrocity Exhibition (1970), which drew closer comparison with the work of postmodernist writers such as William S. Burroughs. In 1973 the highly controversial novel Crash was published, a story about symphorophilia and car crash fetishism; the protagonist becomes sexually aroused by staging and participating in real car crashes. The story was later adapted into a film of the same name by Canadian director David Cronenberg.
While many of Ballard's stories are thematically and narratively unusual, he is perhaps best known for his relatively conventional war novel, Empire of the Sun (1984), a semi-autobiographical account of a young boy's experiences in Shanghai during the Second Sino-Japanese War as it came to be occupied by the Japanese Imperial Army. Described as "The best British novel about the Second World War" by The Guardian, the story was adapted into a 1987 film by Steven Spielberg.
The literary distinctiveness of Ballard's work has given rise to the adjective "Ballardian", defined by the Collins English Dictionary as "resembling or suggestive of the conditions described in J. G. Ballard's novels and stories, especially dystopian modernity, bleak man-made landscapes and the psychological effects of technological, social or environmental developments." The Oxford Dictionary of National Biography entry describes Ballard's work as being occupied with "eros, thanatos, mass media and emergent technologies".
The first of two tomes contains a fat thwack of Ballard’s SF stories between 1956 and 1964, most of which are superlative examples of the genre at its peak: speculative scenarios informed by real science, with convincing use of terminology, and a knack for using that period’s progress to envision insane futures that us future-people still find disturbing. Some of my highlights were ‘Passport to Eternity’, a satirical piece that imagines futuristic vacations, including a ‘terminal’ round trip to Earth, ‘The Watch-Towers’, an eerie tale about state surveillance, ‘The Last World of Mr Goddard’, where a live micro-model of Mr Goddard’s reality seeks means of escape, ‘The Subliminal Man’, a nightmare world of subliminal advertising where people are reduced to mindless consumerism (sound familiar?), ‘End-Game’, a Kafkan number where a prisoner is never told his sentence or mode of execution, and ‘Time of Passage’, which reverses the chronology of life. Less successful entries for me were such fare as ‘The Cage of Sand’, one of Ballard’s apocalyptic fantasies, or ‘A Question of Re-Entry’, mixing colonialism and space adventure in a weird way. These stories are not mere SF hackwork: alongside Asimov and Bradbury, Ballard’s stories are examples of some of the finest in the field from that volatile century.
En el vigésimo segundo programa de Gabinete de Curiosidades se comenta en profundidad el relato Bilenio: https://go.ivoox.com/rf/137147241
J. G. Ballard fue un profeta. No lo digo porque asentará ningún credo ni por ser el iniciador de un movimiento mesiánico. Y dado que esté hombre escribió una obra que exploraba la comunión obscena entre el placer sexual y los accidentes automovilísticos me alegro de que su influencia no haya trascendido la literatura. Aunque tampoco hay que subestimar la virulencia de ciertos conceptos en mentes enfermizas en busca de sentido y proyecto vital. En fin. El inglés fue profeta por su capacidad prospectiva, por saber analizar el zeitgeist que le toco vivir y su perceptiva agudeza a la hora de comprender hasta que punto la tecnología modificaría la mentalidad de la sociedad. Hay ideas que Ballard enunciara en los años sesenta que tienen un perverso eco en los interesantes tiempos que nos ha tocado sufrir.
Esta primera parte de la obra breve completa de J.G. Ballard recoge los relatos escritos desde 1956 a 1964, casi una década de más de 800 páginas de ficción corta. Ahí es nada. Este hombre fue muy prolífico, y dada su aparentemente inagotable inventiva eleva este logro a cotas geniales. Como son un buen puñado de relatos, he tenido que ir reseñándolos poco a poco conforme leía este mamotreto, alternándolo con otras lecturas para evitar empacharme de tanto pesimismo tecnológico. Es por esto que las reseñas serán comentarios muy, muy breves.
-Prima Belladona (***): primer relato ambientado en Vermillion Sands en el que se nos presentan unas flores capaces de hacer música y una extraña mujer capaz de sintonizar con ellas. La imaginación de este cuento, su mejor baza.
Rueda de escape (****): un hombre que ve la televisión junto a su mujer descubre que está inmerso en un bucle temporal de quince minutos. Es como si los personajes de Jojo racionalizaran el horror que les produce Diabolo y su King Crimson.
La ciudad de concentración (***): en algún punto indeterminado de la historia, la humanidad se ha encerrado en enormes ciudades subterráneas construidas como amalgamas de cubículos, en las que el espacio esta gravado con precios draconianos. El protagonista quiere crear una máquina voladora, pero su ambición llegará más allá al cuestionarse los límites impuestos por su ciudad. Interesante.
-La sonrisa de Venus (***): de nuevo en Vermillion Sand. El comité de Bellas Artes hace un concurso para elegir una nueva estatua para la ciudad. La ganadora no cumple las expectativas, el público la mira con condescendencia y la autora desairada se la regala a un miembro del comité. Un regalo del todo envenenado.
-Desagüe 69 (***): ¿Puede el ser humano sobrevivir sin dormir? Respuesta corta: sí, pero a qué precio."
Pista 12 (***): dos expertos en microacústica estudian una serie de pistas cuando uno de ellos al escuchar la susodicha pista, de pronto, empieza a sentirse mal. Una curiosa venganza.
-Región de contenencia (**): trabajadores destinados al hostil planeta Murak descubren cierta construcción sospechosamente similar al monolito de 2001 Odisea en el Espacio. Muy cósmico en su desenlace, pero flojo en su desarrollo.
-Ahora: Cero (****): ¡he encontrado el origen de Death Note! ¡Incluso del protagonista, Kira!
-El barrendero acústico (***): en el futuro, el sonido deja un peligroso remanente que debe de ser limpiado por barrenderos para evitar trastornos fisiológicos o el perjuicio de las construcciones. Mangon, el protagonista, se enamora de Lady Gioconda, diva de la ópera olvidada por el público, y quiere ayudarla a recuperarse.
Zona de terror (**): un hombre enloquecido vive frente a su psiquiatra, que lo monitoriza constantemente. Un día dice que sufre una alucinación en la que se ve a sí mismo. Pero, ¿es una alucinación?
-Cronópolis (****): ecos de una distopia superada, o no. En una sociedad en la que los relojes están prohibidos, el protagonista, obsesionado con el tiempo, se pregunta por cómo funcionaba todo antes de la revolución."
-Las voces del tiempo (***): la potencia biológica de la vida se ha detenido y los científicos solo pueden atestiguar la decadencia de los seres vivos y la propia que antecede a la extinción.
-El último mundo del señor Godard (***): el señor Godard tiene una réplica de la ciudad guardada en un archivador con la que puede ver qué hace cada habitante. Este cuento se parece mucho a El nacimiento en el desván de José María Merino ¿Habría leído el leonés a Ballard?
-Estudio 5, las estrellas (***): de nuevo a Vermillion Sands, y de nuevo el Ballard prospectivo inspiradísimo. En esta ciudad la poesía ya no la hacen poetas, sino máquinas a las que se introducen las directrices adecuadas y vomitan la obra en cuestión. O sea, Ballard dando sopas con ondas a los mediocres que no se ruborizan al considerarse así mismos escritores pese a ser un ordenador el autor original de sus esbozos de ideas.
-Final en lo profundo (****): Los océanos del planeta se han secado, la humanidad está emigrando a las estrellas. Solo un biólogo marino está decidido a quedarse tras un descubrimiento inesperado.
-El hombre sobrecargado (***): abrumado por el estrés, el protagonista explota su capacidad para abstraerse, disociarse de la realidad y reducir los objetos que percibe a sus elementos fundamentales.
-El señor F. es el señor F (****): con el embarazo de su mujer, el protagonista comienza a sentir un rejuvenecimiento inexplicable. Aterrador.
-Bilenio (****): superpoblación a la Ballard. La humanidad vive acinada en cubículos diminutos, presa de la claustrofobia y la especulación inmobiliaria.
-El asesino amable (****): con al coronación del nuevo rey, un asesino a sueldo tiene un encargo que cumplir. Solo añadiré que está historia es un 23% que cualquiera de los otros relatos.
-Los locos (***): el neoliberalismo ha llegado a tal extremo que se ha ilegalizado la psicología y la psiquiatría porque quien está loco tiene derecho a estarlo, y nadie puede impedirles de ejercer ese derecho.
-El jardín del tiempo (**): quizá por ser más poético me ha gustado menos. Un matrimonio cultiva unas flores muy especiales mientras observa en la distancia cómo una horda furibunda se aproxima a su jardín.
-Los mil sueños de Stellavista (***): de nuevo Vermillion Sands, de nuevo un concepto delirante, en esta ocasión, las casas psicotrópicas, inmuebles sintonizados con sus habitantes capaces "improntarse" con sus personalidades y vivencias. Sabiendo esto, qué mejor que habitar en una casa en la que se ha cometido un crimen pasional.
-Trece a Centauri (****): una nave generacional se dirige a un nuevo hogar en las estrellas. O eso es lo que la tripulación cree, pues en realidad son un experimento social para descubrir si el ser humano es capaz de vivir aislado durante toda su vida.
-Pasaporte a la eternidad (***): Ballard derrocha toda su imaginación en esta venganza conyugal ¡y eso que ella solo quería tomarse unas vacaciones!
-La jaula de arena (**): muy Nueva Ola. Un puñado de inadaptados sobrevive en lo que antes de un virus marciano era Florida, convertida ahora en un desierto que remeda enormemente a los eriales del planeta Marte.
-Las atalayas (***): más Dick que Ballard, en este cuento se nos presenta una sociedad constantemente vigilada por unas ubicuas torres celestes. El protagonista, cansado del constante escrutinio, tiene un plan.
-Las estatuas cantarinas (***): los escultores de Vermillion Sands producen hermosos sonidos. Dos escultores planean estafar a una actriz que se ha encaprichado de una de sus estatuas."
-El hombre del piso noventa y nueve (***): un hombre es incapaz de subir a las azoteas de los rascacielos. Al parecer, ha sido condicionado. Pero, ¿por qué?
-El hombre subliminal (****): una despiadada crítica al consumismo compulsivo. El protagonista descubre que, quizá, haya algo oculto en las señales de tráfico que les está obligando a comprar sin necesidad ni control.
-El recinto de los reptiles (**): un matrimonio veranea en la playa a la espera de divisar la puesta en órbita de un satélite. El marido cuenta a su esposa la influencia silenciosa que ejerce el mar sobre los humanos.
-Cuestión de reentrada (****): un bólido espacial junto a su piloto caen en la selva amazónica, en el territorio de una tribu no contactada. Una expedición de la ONU ira para recuperar los restos.
-Las tumbas del tiempo (**): en el pasado, una parte de la humanidad encapsuló su cuerpo en forma de cintas a la espera de poder ser curados en el futuro de aquellas enfermedades que acabarían matándolos. Estos cuerpos virtuales se preservan en las tumbas del tiempo, y siglos después, bandidos y saqueadores de tumbas profanan estos mausoleos para obtener y vender estas cintas.
-Ahora rugen las olas (**): el mar que se manifiesta como atavismo psicológico para atormentar los sueños y la vida del protagonista.
-Los cazadores de Venus (****): simpatiquísima reflexión sobre la ufología y aquellos que, deliberada o alucinadamente, la alimentan con sus visiones y testimonios. Creo que es el relato más amable de Ballard.
-El final de la partida (***): puro Kafka. Un preso político y su verdugo jugando al ajedrez en una dacha a la espera de la inapelable sentencia de muerte. El juego refleja la lucha entre ambos personajes.
-Uno menos (****): un loco se escapa del manicomio. Sin embargo, nadie recuerda su cara, ni tampoco hay expediente que demuestre su internamiento en el centro ¿Acaso existe Hinton? Un cuento muy ácido.
-Tarde repentina (****): Elliot, químico oncológico, tras una repentina migraña comienza a tener recuerdos que solo pueden pertenecer a otra persona ¿O es que acaso Elliot no es Elliot? Angustioso secuestro de identidad."
-El juego de los biombos (***): último relato ambientado en Vermillion Sands, esta vez con el cine como decorado. Un magnate de los negocios decide utilizar su megaproducción cinematográfica como una terapia psicológica para su actriz principal. Tan retorcido que solo Ballard podría imaginarlo.
-Tiempo de paso (****): pura Nueva Ola nuevamente ¿Qué ocurriría a la humanidad si el individuo naciera al dar su último aliento y muriera en el útero de su madre? ¿Qué ocurriría si los muertos se inhumaran para comenzar una vida de ancianos que terminaría en su más tierna pero aún no experimentada infancia? ¿Qué ocurriría si los padres hubieran de criar a sus hijos hasta su muerte como bebés?
Well, that was a lot of Ballard. I can't say every story was a winner, but a lot of them were pretty good. The writing is consistently excellent, almost preternaturally so; I just didn't always care for the premises. Some people argue that Ballard's real strength as a writer lies in his short stories, but after reading this volume I'm not sure I agree with that opinion. I really like some of his novels, and they've left a longer-lasting impression than I suspect even my favorite stories in this volume will, most of which have already receded from my memory. Perhaps Volume 2 will alter this impression? We shall see.
Sobre estos relatos decía Capanna que era la cf más convencional escrita por Ballard porque incluso el editor que publicó la mayoría de ellos, Ted Carnell, no estaba para mucha experimentación. Y después de leer este libro debo darle de nuevo la razón: exuda la cf norteamericana de los 50 que Ballard leía en las revistas de la época y de la cuál comenzó a tomar unos temas y una imaginería que, inevitablemente, ya empezaba a hacer suya. Así, "Bilenio" es una estupenda anticipación de Rascacielos y "El hombre subliminal" de La isla de cemento; las pulsiones que impulsaban La sequía o El mundo sumergido se pueden rastrear en cuentos como "La jaula de arena", "Cuestión de reentrada" o "Final en lo profundo". Pero también hay historias con paradojas temporales, que invierten la flecha del tiempo o se acercan al fenómeno de los platillos volantes, esplendorosos delirios imaginativos y llenos de humor... Y un magnífico ejemplo de horror cósmico que se abre a la ensoñación Stapledoniana ("Región de contenencia", hasta ahora traducido como "Zona de espera").
Frente a sus grandes obras de los años posteriores (el libro apenas llega hasta cuentos publicados en 1964), este primer volumen tiene una cualidad que, para el lector temeroso de afrontar la lectura de sus textos más obsesivos, personales, puede tomarse como una ventaja: las formas en general son relativamente normativas. Quizás la peripecias no sean del todo fluidas o carezcan de cierres deslumbrantes. Pero abundan descripciones y planteamientos atractivos; se aborda una ciencia ficción humanista que explora de manera incisiva el colapso del colonialismo o de la propia civilización europea, la posible llegada de totalitarismos, las transformaciones que el capitalismo de los años 50 tendría sobre la clase trabajadora y media de la época, su capacidad para invadirlo todo. Leído seis décadas más tarde de haber sido escrito, este libro se siente tremendamente actual. Y a ritmo de un relato al día se disfruta sin agobios.
Merece la pena destacar la traducción, excelente, y una experiencia de lectura intachable (mucho mejor que el inmanejable libro publicado por RBA hace casi una década). Una vez venga secundado por el segundo y último volumen, invita a desprenderse de los libros de Minotauro donde muchos seguimos atesorando estos cuentos.
Okay so I've been jakily reading this over like half a year because I have all the stories in one PDF file lol. Just one year to go and I'll've read the second/ probably better half!
Something that bothers me about Ballard more than any other author is that he describes settings better than almost everyone, comes up with cool, original concepts for future technology or surreal metaphors for life, and usually bungles it with a non-ending or a not-really-a-story. He gets big points for what he does well, and WTFs for what he doesn’t. I don’t understand how someone can come up with such cool ideas and not feel the need to do them a better service or take them to more logical conclusions, or conclusions at all.
That being said, this collection is great and most of it stands up. And if we can forgive things being recorded on 3D cassette tapes or whatever by understanding what a better contemporary equivalent is, basically all of it is TIMELESS BECAUSE WHAT COULD BE MORE TIMELESS THAN THE HUMAN EMOTIONS OF THE SOUL IN THESE CONTEMPORARY SENTIMENTS
I once (somewhere on Goodreads) observed that a lot of what is usually labelled Science Fiction is really Engineering Fiction. There are rare examples of Mathematics Fiction (e.g. Flatland, Abbott or Eon, Greg Bear). There's a lot of Physics Fiction and Biology Fiction. Le Guin wrote Anthropolgy Fiction. Imagine my surprise when recently in Ballard's autobiography he said that he favoured Psychology Fiction. This struck me as the perfect pithy description of what Ballard was doing most of the time in his short stories.
This collection has many interesting and surprising stories and the odd few that are actually predictable if you know his work fairly well. Many of the most memorable have the common setting of Vermillion Sands, a fading, no longer fashionable beach resort for the rich and famous that exists - somewhere. It's not quite our Earth, but not apparently an alien world, despite the flying rays that seem like they replace the gulls of most seashores. In fact it's the embodiment of a mood - a mood so effectively evoked that after reading several stories, I was able to guess we were back there from just the first paragraph of one story, confirmed in the next. This impressed upon me the level of writing skill on display.
Well, there's still a similarly brick-sized second volume to look forward to!
«Los relatos cortos siempre me han parecido importantes. Me gusta su idoneidad para tomar instantáneas, su capacidad para centrarse con intensidad en un solo tema».
Nada como las historias cortas para explorar conceptos e ideas potentes en muy pocas páginas. Con el fin de imaginar futuros que, aunque parezcan lejanos e hipotéticos, en muchos casos nos están hablando del presente. Y si hay un autor de ciencia ficción que convirtió en un arte el escribir sobre el futuro real que podríamos experimentar es J. G. Ballard. Gracias al sello Runas de Alianza Editorial ahora podemos encontrar en las librerías españolas Relatos, 1. El primero de los dos volúmenes que recopilan los relatos completos del afamado autor inglés.
Ballard was prolific in the short story form, using it to play out and cultivate his seemingly endless supply of nifty conceptual ideas, arising out of the zeitgeist of cyberpunk and spaghetti sci-fi in the 1960s. Ballard's various visions of a nightmarishly over-populated Earth, possible consequences of space travel and outlandish psychiatric experiments nestle between magical-realist studies of bizarre characters grappling with unfamiliar properties of sound, materials, machines, and their own mutant talents.
Ballard handles a range of moods and registers, breathing life into many worlds with a palpable curiosity about the consequences of technological developments. Inevitably some stories are more successful than others, and the fast-cutting style can fatigue or become irritating.
A feminist reading of this collection would be interesting. Ballard is an overwhelmingly male-centred author; all of his personalities are white heterosexual men. Female characters are always ciphers, either pathological or models of 'good' (compliant, sexually responsive, undemanding) behaviour.
What I find most remarkable about Ballard's short fiction, is that each and every story has a genuinely interesting thought at its core.
Prima Belladonna - 3.5 stars Escapement - 3.5 stars The Concentration City - 4 stars Venus Smiles - 5 stars Manhole 69 - 5 stars Track 12 - 4 stars The Waiting Grounds - 3.5 stars Now: Zero - 3.5 The Sound-Sweep - 4 stars Zone Of Terror - 3 stars Chronopolis - 4 stars The Voices Of Time - 3.5 stars The Last World Of Mr Goddard - 4 stars Studio 5, The Stars - 3 stars Deep End - 3.5 stars The Overloaded Man - 5 stars Mr F. Is Mr F. - 4 stars Billennium - 5 stars The Gentle Assassin - 4 stars The Insane Ones - 4 stars The Garden Of Time - 3 stars The Thousand Dreams Of Stellavista - 5 stars Thirteen To Centaurus - 5 stars Passport To Eternity - 3.5 stars The Cage Of Sand - 3 stars The Watch-Towers - 4 stars The Singing Statues - 3.5 stars The Man On The 99th Floor - 3 stars The Subliminal Man - 4 stars The Reptile Enclosure - 4 stars A Question Of Re-Entry - 3.5 stars The Time-Tombs - 4 stars Now Wakes The Sea - 4.5 stars The Venus Hunters - 4 stars End-Game - 5 stars Minus One - 4 stars The Sudden Afternoon - 4 stars The Screen Game - 3 stars Time Of Passage - 3.5 stars
It’s a strange, concentrated experience to read so many short stories from the same author, written across just a couple of years. The repetition of themes is initially amusing, then irritating, then satisfying, as Ballard deepens them (e.g. advertising, conformism, sounds, the built environment, psychology).
Many of the stories are also just *stylish* in a way that seems unfamiliar to my 2020 eyes - sandblasted and sun-drenched, exhausted yet sharp-eyed.
Anyway, my favourites:
Escapement The Concentration City Now: Zero The Sound-Sweep The Last World of Mr Goddard Studio 5, The Stars - gpt-3 Thirteen to Centaurus Passport to Eternity Subliminal Man Minus One
4,3 * DIE Überraschung für mich. Diese Hemmschwellen konnte ich überwinden: 1) Ich bin alles Andere als kurzgeschichtenaffin. 2) Ich mache einen großen Bogen um Bücher die Türstoppereigenschaften haben ("Die Stimmen der Zeit" umfasst über 900 Seiten...). 3) J. G. Ballard ist eher ein Anti-SF-Autor. So what?
Seine Romane waren mir bisher eher geläufig (frühere sowie seine letzten Werke). Interessanterweise konnten mich diese Kurzgeschichten eher fesseln! Sie sind bisweilen knackig und pointiert. Vielleicht sogar DIE Möglichkeit, sich an Ballard heranzu- wagen. Die Kurzgeschichten sind zwar 1956-1963 entstanden, jedoch auch ohne Staubtuch genießbar.
I'm reading this as an exercise in curiosity, undaunted by two volumes that would cover about eight books of normal length. It's been many years since I heard of Ballard, and I originally thought he was a normal fiction author. I was therefore surprised and flabbergasted to learn that Empire of the Sun was written by a careerist speculative fiction author. I tried discovering an introduction to his work that was all science-fiction-y, but came to the unsettling conclusion that I'd have to wade through enormous tracts of short fiction if I wanted to get to the real meat of his works. I'm not a huge short-story fan, but I generally like them when I do read them.
I simply tend to go for the long rides in both scope and characterization.
I'm half-way through this enormous work, and I can't say I've changed my mind.
And yet, there are some real gems in here that I simply can't ignore.
I loved everything with the annihilation of time, including the time flowers, the preservations, or world that had lost all its clocks. I was shocked and thrilled to learn that he wrote the original concept of Death Note, and the surprise ending was quite delicious. Some of his best characterizations (even though I doubt he'll ever be known as a master of that craft,) revolved around the sonic sculptures and the societies that had been changed irrevocably by them.
There were other stories I couldn't get into. I didn't care much for the ones focused on overpopulation or biological manipulations. I've seen much better treatments, and the characters, although showing a particular Ballardian clinical approach, just didn't grab me.
Any location that included sand was fantastic, though. The Mars preservation on Earth was particularly fun, but the murder-for-poetry retreat was a close second. The cloud sculptors was pretty damn poignant.
There is only one thing that I can't quite figure out. Are his stories getting better as I climb through these books, improving with practice? Or am I merely sensitizing myself to his prose and getting more out of it as I continue. I just don't know. But with a few early exceptions, I like more and more of his later stories.
I still wish I could spend a lot more time inside each story without having to let go, but this is the nature of short tales.
On, now, to the next four novel's length of stories.
I usually read short story anthologies in one go, but I wisely decided not to with this gargantuan beast, which I’ve been struggling through piece by piece since I was reading The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Why I thought it was a good idea to read such an enormous volume of work from an author whom I’d never sampled before I have no idea.
J.G. Ballard was quite famous, however, and I had heard of him. He was so renowned for the tone of bleak alienation in his books that a word was coined: “Ballardian,” meaning “resembling or suggestive of the conditions described in J. G. Ballard’s novels and stories, especially dystopian modernity, bleak man-made landscapes and the psychological effects of technological, social or environmental developments.” Most of the stories in this anthology were written in the 1950s and 1960s, and there’s often a strong sense of a rigid consumerist post-war society, trapped between the stifling customs of the past (wives pour their husband a stiff drink when he gets home from work etc.) and the bleak ugliness of modern cities, architecture and ways of living.
By and large they are not only tedious, but bleak and depressing. One can’t fairly fault Ballard for writing bleak stories, if that’s his stock in trade, but it was a bit of a drag to read through thirty-nine of them. He seems particularly obsessed with abstract things like time, sound and vision, and if a story is set in his fictional desert city of Vermilion Sands, it’s an instant tip-off that it’s going to be a boring trudge through some crappy story about musical statues or audio technicians or something like that.
There are a few good stories in there; I particularly enjoyed Concentration City (about a man trying to escape a city that stretches on forever), The Watch-Towers (about life in a town dominated by mysterious observation towers) and The Venus Hunters (about an astronomer who falls in with a scientist claiming to have met Venusian explorers). On the whole, though, I regretted reading this book shortly after beginning it, and only finished it through sheer determination. Note to self: do not buy “the complete” anything of an author you haven’t read before.
This book is a bad buy for a book blogger. Volume 1 is so huge that it will probably take me a year or more to finish it. Meanwhile my blog will become an arid desert, deprived of nourishment, a victim of the Great World Slump, while I idle away depraved hours in the company of this prolific perfectionist.
In the introduction, Mr. Ballard accuses modern readers of having lost the knack of reading short stories. They are too used to baggy and long-winded TV soaps. Most novels, he claims, "would have been better if they had been recast as short stories."
But the short story still survives, especially, he says, in science fiction. Not that Mr, Ballard writes science fiction. He describes the settings of his own work as "a kind of visionary present."
I have read one of J.G. Ballard's novels (see my earlier review of Cocaine Nights) but apparently even that, like most of his novels, was first tried out and tested in short story form.
As a devotee of short stories, I am predisposed to approve of Mr. Ballard's observations but I would add that he neglects to mention erotic stories. Some of his stories are erotic but not as intensely erotic as the kind I prefer.
I would argue that erotic fiction works best in short story form. I have tried a few flabby erotic novels and tired of them long before the climax. There are exceptions, of course, and I've reviewed a few in my blog, but even erotic novelists are still intensely active in the short story form and for very good reasons.
So anyway, I'm giving this collection of not especially erotic stories 5 stars because it is brilliant, engrossing and stimulating and inspires me to go on with my own highly concentrated craft.
It's quite good when you're on a diet, too. Think lean!
Over the course of the past year I have been dipping into this volume, mostly while at waiting rooms. I spend a lot of time in waiting rooms as part of my job. Arranged chronologically, one of the pleasures of this book is witnessing Ballard's development as a writer & reading the stories that would later be fleshed out into book-length narratives (ie The Subliminal Man which seems to prefigure Crash). Although Ballard's stories are short on character development, they are conceptually brilliant & often compensate for his shortcomings. A great example of his genius is the final story in the volume, "Time of Passage." Initially it seems to be a reverse narrative, but it soon becomes apparent that this is not strictly true. Rather he somehow manages to fuse a narrative that is both a linear & a reverse narrative. One of the prophets of our social collapse & one of the first to write cli-fi, Ballard seemed to have been ahead of his time.
Any writer living now who wants to write science fiction (there is the occasional weird tale or Alfred Hitchcock Present's-type crime story mixed in) or fantasy has to read this. No excuses.
Amazing stuff, visionary, compelling, clear, personal. Some of the earliest material is a little shaky but Ballard quickly finds his dry, clear, clinical voice.
Not available in America. Pony up the cash and be taught how its done!
Tras un poco más de un año acompañado por este libro, puedo decir con seguridad que Ballard es un nuevo autor de cabecera. Literal y figuradamente, porque todo este tiempo el mamotreto estuvo en mi mesa de noche. Obviamente, hay cuentos flojos—sobre todo los más "pulpy", de revista cincuentera de ciencia ficción—pero incluso en esos Ballard no puede evitar dejar traslucir una rareza, una gelidez casi quirúrgica, quizás algo posmo-autoconsciente, que los hace descollar del naif Asimoviano. Luego, están los otros. Todo lo que sucede en Vermilion Sands es raro, pero vívido, de una extrañeza lírica que conmueve pero nunca deja de ser fría, hiperracional aunque caprichosa. Además, aparecen por primera vez los astronautas, en uno de los mejores cuentos de esta primera parte, y la constelación de obsesiones de Ballard se empieza a perfilar: desiertos, edificios abandonados, la guerra fría, el colapso social. Un modernismo en plena decadencia, en caída libre, una cápsula a la que se le derriten partes cuando reingresa a la atmósfera terrestre. Lo que me queda es un tono, un estilo técnico-poético que no le leí a nadie más, una paleta lexical, símbolos que de tan rebuscados se desdibujan y vuelven a ser abstractos. No va a pasar mucho tiempo para que el volumen dos ocupe su puesto en mi mesa de noche.
The variety, imagination and skill on display is just thrilling.
As a writer of short stories, you can't help but marvel at these.
You've got stories of time bubbles, metal sculptures that sing and self replicate, weird insomnia experiments, drowned giants (this story was made into a short film collected in Love Death + Robots on Netflix), apocalyptic societies, alien femme fatales, shoebox sized towns and murder-minded wish-fulfillment writers (clearly inspiration for Death Note).
I might be confusing the two volumes because I've raced onto the second and I'm almost finished with that one. But it is just meant to highlight a few of the mad concepts on display here.
From this first volume though, the first 600 pages contain all the outstanding stories. The last 200 are good, but they're clearly at the back to hide them.
They're just.... Phenomenal! You can't be disappointed with these.
I put so many little post-its in to help me navigate to and re-read the best ones again for inspiration.
As I said, I'm almost finished with volume two and they slapped some amazing stories at the start again... But we shall see...
JG Ballard is in a separate league when it comes to writing. His stories neither fit the dystopian nor the sci-fi genre, and in fact, a new genre called Ballardian should be coined. While I have to admit that some stories seemed really weird and difficult to comprehend, a few other stories really made up for it. These were:
Escapement Track 12 The waiting grounds Now: Zero Zone of terror Chronopolis Deep End The Gentle assasin The subliminal man A question of re-entry Minus One
Overall, it is a must-read if you want to try a different type of writing genre that is borderline absurd yet fresh and captivating.
I first discovered J G Ballard in the 70s and was pleased for him gaining some fame when they made a film of Empire of the Sun (not as good as the book, but film adaptations rarely are). Enjoyed the vast majority of the short stories in this compilation and the anti consumerism appealed to me. Favourites were Chronopolis and Time of Passage. The Vermilion Sands tales bored me, but I am a heathen when it comes to the arts. Volume two will be read soon.
Where do you even begin to review this impressive body of work? Eight hundred pages of wildly diverse and imaginative short stories from one of the 20th Century's greatest writers.
Thirty-nine beautifully written stories that range from SF to surrealism, from alien worlds to future but recognizable Earths, there is something here for everyone who appreciates intelligently written SF, fantastic tales and weird fiction.
Ballard was an amazing author. The collection gets a little samey towards the end but this is a lot of output and most is very varied and great writing.