Quite possibly one of the most controversial and graphic novels on the lat 20th century is speculative fiction author J.G. Ballard's psychological drama in which he explores the eroticism of the car accident, CRASH.
First published in 1973, Ballard's novel concentrates on a young man who uncovers a secluded cult-like subculture of people who delight and find sexual satisfaction in car crashes. The novel successfully analyzes the symbiotic relationship between sex and death. I've read the novel countless times and continue to remain enamored by Ballard's lyrical prose as he describes the grotesque. Not to mention, Ballard's flagrant audacity with regard to his subject matter has to be admired as well.
Here is one of my favorite verses from the piece:
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.
Ballard's transgressive and perverse writing style and subject matter has gone on to inspire a new wave of literary writers. Crash is quite possibly one of his greatest books and one to which I continue to return in order to sap inspiration.
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