J.G Ballard- Crash
“Trying to exhaust himself, Vaughan devised an endless almanac of terrifying wounds and insane collisions: The lungs of elderly men punctured by door-handles; the chests of young women impaled on steering-columns; the cheek of handsome youths torn on the chromium latches of quarter-lights. To Vaughan, these wounds formed the key to a new sexuality, born from a perverse technology. The images of these wounds hung in the gallery of his mind, like exhibits in the museum of a slaughterhouse.”
An intense tour of a shadow world which depicts with fervor true obsession and all consuming fetish. The hand which leads you is shaking and sweaty with anticipation and arousal, almost fear at the realization of something so perfect. Ballard’s narration of this universe is so impassioned an encapsulating that this book welds itself to your mind as you read it. You see through the looking glass your own world transformed, through the character’s eyes distorted and warped by mad desire. Delicious delirium.
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