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Concrete Island: A Novel par J. G. Ballard
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Concrete Island: A Novel (édition 2001)

par J. G. Ballard (Auteur)

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1,1752413,600 (3.65)25
On a day in April, just after three o'clock in the afternoon, Robert Maitland's car crashes over the concrete parapet of a high-speed highway onto the island below, where he is injured and, finally, trapped. What begins as an almost ludicrous predicament soon turns into horror as Maitland-a wickedly modern Robinson Crusoe-realizes that, despite evidence of other inhabitants, this doomed terrain has become a mirror of his own mind. Seeking the dark outer rim of the everyday, Ballard weaves private catastrophe into an intensely specular allegory.… (plus d'informations)
Membre:HelgaG.
Titre:Concrete Island: A Novel
Auteurs:J. G. Ballard (Auteur)
Info:Picador (2001), Edition: 1st, 176 pages
Collections:Lus mais non possédés
Évaluation:****
Mots-clés:Aucun

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L'Île de béton (Dimensions) par J. G. Ballard

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» Voir aussi les 25 mentions

Affichage de 1-5 de 24 (suivant | tout afficher)
Great first half, really chilling stuff. The book then becomes thematically similar to Woman in the Dunes but with a less engaging style compared to Abe. ( )
  schumacherrr | Feb 21, 2022 |
The speed with which Maitland moves from wealthy architect to primitive is part of Ballard’s worldview, I think. Obviously, everything about this novel is echoed or parallel to the novel High-Rise. Honestly, it is kind of the same novel. It takes the same survival-satire-social subversion and instead of taking place in a high rise building, it takes place in the center of the “traffic” of normal society.

Anyway, there is a lot to wonder about in this novel, though none of it is necessarily positive or engaging. Most of it is dark and uncomfortable.

The conceps are worthwhile to explore, but at the end of this, I feel it was an intellectual exercise of an expression of discontent with society. I am sorry that Ballard is discontented. It was not horrible to spend a few minutes reading his satire, but I am not going to remain there, on these isolations, with him. ( )
  AQsReviews | Sep 23, 2021 |
That was a unique reading experience. J. G. Ballard expertly breaks down human psyche in his work and this contemporary telling of Robinson Crusoe explores the breakdown in the human mind when social restraints are ripped away. 3.5 stars. ( )
  DrFuriosa | Dec 4, 2020 |


Ballard's prose is superb but as soon as the other characters emerged I was left cold. ( )
  arewenotben | Jul 31, 2020 |

I’m convinced that Ballard didn’t care what people thought. Of course he did, though. His sentences are polished enough that he ironed most of them out like a fussy tailor. He shines best in his short novels, when he just takes one simple idea and draws it out to the extreme of absurdity. His landscapes retain a corny sort of Twilight Zone quality. Concrete Island is a representative work for him, I think, because it shows what he can do with a couple satirical characters in a nightmarish situation. Even more than High-Rise, I think this book epitomizes what he was going for. One puts oneself in the character’s shoes, wondering if it would be possible to live under such circumstances. Next time you pass a freeway island you’ll wonder, imagine yourself erecting a lean-to on the side of the road.
The main problem one will encounter while reading Ballard's novels is interchangeability. They all feel the same. You get a natural disaster or something happens to tear holes in the fabric of society, and his characters are still sipping Perrier from crystal snifters as their mansions burn. They are like obnoxious sitcom characters. But Ballard's satire is often effective enough to cause a chuckle. If you can't decide where to start, this novel is a good appetizer.
Many of his stories lack these easily dismissed character cliches and rely so much on imagery that they can muddle your memory of them. He did write many brilliant stories, but there are some that I find a major slog. For this reason I think Bradbury is a superior writer, though Bradbury always worked in the safe territory, colored inside the lines, and Ballard laughed at the lines, deliberately avoided them, and danced around the borders. He was a bold writer, got to give him that, but would you really be able to hand one of his books to your mother and say, look here, you might enjoy this? Probably not. Bradbury on the other hand, can sit right alongside any other book on the shelf without getting dirty looks from the other books (strained metaphor).
( )
  LSPopovich | Apr 8, 2020 |
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On a day in April, just after three o'clock in the afternoon, Robert Maitland's car crashes over the concrete parapet of a high-speed highway onto the island below, where he is injured and, finally, trapped. What begins as an almost ludicrous predicament soon turns into horror as Maitland-a wickedly modern Robinson Crusoe-realizes that, despite evidence of other inhabitants, this doomed terrain has become a mirror of his own mind. Seeking the dark outer rim of the everyday, Ballard weaves private catastrophe into an intensely specular allegory.

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