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A review by futurama1979
Rushing to Paradise by J.G. Ballard
4.0
a brilliant critique of how self-centred people use social action movements for personal gain and image, a considerably more hamfisted and slightly stupid critique of second-wave feminism brought to the extremes. i thought the first three fourths of this book were really brilliant, actually, excusing the rare obligatory Ballardisms that veered it into more cliche territory. the end fell apart a bit, but still gripped me. at the heart of it, beneath the variety of political and personal philosophies being touted about, is a horror novel about a woman who groomed an entire island into grooming a sixteen year old boy, and taken just as that it is truly nightmarish.
it is the least overt theme in the book, which is saying something, as Ballard's themes are never covert in the slightest. and it's not covert, per se, but it's not discussed like environmentalism, like the nuclear age, like gender. it felt like the most present and consistent theme in the novel, though. the book begins with Barbara's manipulation of Neil and ends with Neil thinking he'll never be fully free of her even if he never saw her again. some part of him would always want to go back and be there for her. that's where the true terror and disturbance of the book lay for me; in how each adult on that island treated Neil.
there's something to be said about the recurring motif of the albatross both as an intentional symbol seized upon by Barbara, a set of false meanings that were bestowed on it by her vision of self-idolatry, and also a piece of visual symbolism in the novel and a representation of Neil. the albatross never thrived on that island. they recovered when the world was watching as Neil did from his bullet wound, and when the world got bored and moved on they were slaughtered again like they never mattered. living things being used and discarded to suit public sympathy or as some means to an end they aren't meant to survive long enough to see. this book really took up residence inside my head and Neil as a character will stick with me.
it is the least overt theme in the book, which is saying something, as Ballard's themes are never covert in the slightest. and it's not covert, per se, but it's not discussed like environmentalism, like the nuclear age, like gender. it felt like the most present and consistent theme in the novel, though. the book begins with Barbara's manipulation of Neil and ends with Neil thinking he'll never be fully free of her even if he never saw her again. some part of him would always want to go back and be there for her. that's where the true terror and disturbance of the book lay for me; in how each adult on that island treated Neil.
there's something to be said about the recurring motif of the albatross both as an intentional symbol seized upon by Barbara, a set of false meanings that were bestowed on it by her vision of self-idolatry, and also a piece of visual symbolism in the novel and a representation of Neil. the albatross never thrived on that island. they recovered when the world was watching as Neil did from his bullet wound, and when the world got bored and moved on they were slaughtered again like they never mattered. living things being used and discarded to suit public sympathy or as some means to an end they aren't meant to survive long enough to see. this book really took up residence inside my head and Neil as a character will stick with me.