Crash took me completely by surprise. While some of the more common
adjectives used to describe it have likely been shocking, perverse, and disgusting,
I found the premise of the novel – characters who “accept the perverse
eroticism of the car crash,” who obsess with the infinity of sexual
possibilities and sexualities – to be refreshingly daring, especially when you
consider the context in which the piece was written (1970s). It is gross, but equally fun: novels
don’t get more graphic than this.
I give Ballard credit for making the most unusual of sexual acts, and
the most horrifying and bloody events, sound poetic. He is very aware of how the words both look and sound, and
of the way his readers will react to them, and thus organizes them in a way
that entices the reader to keep going.
I do not think that the novel takes place is “actual”
London. The settings and
characters seem like our society, but
strange: an exaggeration or dramatization. I believe the story to be allegorical. It explores the relationship between
modern man and technology in perhaps an exaggerated way, but it is grounded in
what, for the most part, appears to be the physical society in which we
live. “For him these wounds were
the keys to a new sexuality born from a perverse technology.” (13)
Ballard the author is aware of his initial skepticism. He writes the piece with his acquired
taste for such sexuality, aware that it was also
very unusual for him at first. He
does not waste much time, however, for by the second chapter we are well
immersed in the world of his and Vaughan’s sexualities.
I believe that our relationship with technology is ripe for
exploration. It does appeal to a
part of the mind not yet discovered, if simply because it describes objects we
are so familiar with in such new ways. For example, when Ballard describes a
fantasy he has of his wife engaging in sexual acts with another woman, he says:
“Now and then I glanced through the curtains and watched them together, their
bodies and fingers involved in the soft technology of Catherine’s breasts…”
(33)
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