Ballardian: (adj) 1. of James Graham Ballard (J.G. Ballard; born 1930), the British novelist, or his works. (2) resembling or suggestive of the conditions described in Ballard’s novels & stories, esp. dystopian modernity, bleak man-made landscapes & the psychological effects of technological, social or environmental developments.
You have triumphed as an artist when your aesthetic is so original and so influential, readers have no choice but to coin a word for it. And so as we say goodbye to the great J.G. Ballard, who passed away Sunday at the age of seventy-eight, we should take comfort in the fact that his view of the world will live on not only in his work, but in the works of others. And not just in film and literature. As The Guardian's critics have demonstrated in this must-read overview, Ballard's grim, distanced, paranoid take on the modern world impacted everything from television, music, visual art and even architecture.
Having only read CRASH and EMPIRE OF THE SUN myself, I must admit that much of what can be identified as "Ballardian" I have generally attributed to other artists. This is especially true of David Cronenberg, who, before he adapted CRASH, was paying brilliant homage to Ballard with the unsettling likes of THE BROOD, VIDEODROME and DEAD RINGERS. I didn't get around to CRASH until I learned Cronenberg would be making it; when I did, it was something of a "Eureka" moment. It was like discovering Funkadelic after digesting years of hip-hop. "This is where he got it!"
As I waded through CRASH, I didn't know whether to be comforted or horrified by the existence of another transgressive artist like Cronenberg. Finally, I grew to accept it. After all, I wasn't devouring these perverse spectacles because I was utterly repulsed by them; there had to be an element of arousal as well.
Ballard's come-on was his prose: CRASH is a dazzlingly depressing read. EMPIRE OF THE SUN, while a little more accessible, is still plenty troubling for the way it uses the dehumanizing horrors of war as a backdrop for a boy's coming of age. Like much of my generation, I came to Ballard's novel after seeing Steven Spielberg's film, and was stunned by the disparity in tone. I still love both (and Ballard seemed pleased with Spielberg's take as well), but the book is far more indelible.
And that is all I feel qualified to say about Ballard. I hope one day to delve further into his writing. Please share your thoughts in the talkback below.
