Status
Available
Call number
Collection
Publication
Picador (2001), Edition: 1st, Paperback, 176 pages
Description
"Concrete Island pays twisted homage to Defoe's Robinson Crusoe. Newly reissued with an introduction from Neil Gaiman. 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."--
User reviews
LibraryThing member BrendanPMyers
I completed a story recently in which a man gets on an airplane and lots of bad stuff happens. The plan for the story going in was that almost all the activity would take place on the plane; yet, I had so much fun writing it, I thought about turning it into a novel. But how do you turn a four and a
While pondering that, I flashed back to Stephen King's Gerald's Game, which I read years ago and don't remember much about, but do recall it took place almost entirely with a woman handcuffed to a bed. While writing my airplane story, I remembered Gerald's Game and thought, HOW DID HE MAKE THAT NOVEL LENGTH?
At any rate, try as I might, my airplane story clocked in at about 14,000 words. I could make it no longer. Which brings me to J.G. Ballard's Concrete Island.
The action in Concrete Island begins almost immediately, when a man has a car accident on a busy highway and his car slides down a steep incline into a deep culvert created by the intersections of lots of busy highways. Nobody sees him go in.
The edge of the culvert high above is surrounded by bushes and shrubs. The man below can hear cars wooshing by, but his shouts and screams go unheard. The inclines are such that he can't climb his way out. Thus begins the tale of a modern-day Robinson Crusoe, trapped on a desert island in the middle of civilization, who must learn to fend for himself for the days, weeks, or months it might take for him to be rescued . . . that is, if he's ever found at all.
I admit it's been a long time since I read this one, but I do remember it being hellishly entertaining, and I remember thinking what a simple idea to turn into a long and interesting novel. Maybe someday, I'll be able to do that.
Not yet.
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half-hour plane flight into a novel, while keeping all the activity on the plane?While pondering that, I flashed back to Stephen King's Gerald's Game, which I read years ago and don't remember much about, but do recall it took place almost entirely with a woman handcuffed to a bed. While writing my airplane story, I remembered Gerald's Game and thought, HOW DID HE MAKE THAT NOVEL LENGTH?
At any rate, try as I might, my airplane story clocked in at about 14,000 words. I could make it no longer. Which brings me to J.G. Ballard's Concrete Island.
The action in Concrete Island begins almost immediately, when a man has a car accident on a busy highway and his car slides down a steep incline into a deep culvert created by the intersections of lots of busy highways. Nobody sees him go in.
The edge of the culvert high above is surrounded by bushes and shrubs. The man below can hear cars wooshing by, but his shouts and screams go unheard. The inclines are such that he can't climb his way out. Thus begins the tale of a modern-day Robinson Crusoe, trapped on a desert island in the middle of civilization, who must learn to fend for himself for the days, weeks, or months it might take for him to be rescued . . . that is, if he's ever found at all.
I admit it's been a long time since I read this one, but I do remember it being hellishly entertaining, and I remember thinking what a simple idea to turn into a long and interesting novel. Maybe someday, I'll be able to do that.
Not yet.
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LibraryThing member shawnr
JG Ballard is one of the original slipstream authors. His stories either make you feel like you’re reading about an incredibly foreign land, or they make some futuristic dystopia feel completely familiar.
Concrete Island is the story of a business man who is stranded after his car crashes in an
This is a short novel, but even so it seems a bit long. It takes a turn that leads to a relatively dissatisfying ending. However, it is still a classic premise that you’ll return to each time you wind your way down a crowded interstate.
Concrete Island is the story of a business man who is stranded after his car crashes in an
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area between two highways and a busy junction. The crash goes unnoticed, and what follows is a fascinating story of being stranded.This is a short novel, but even so it seems a bit long. It takes a turn that leads to a relatively dissatisfying ending. However, it is still a classic premise that you’ll return to each time you wind your way down a crowded interstate.
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LibraryThing member jwhenderson
I was aroused and taken in by this short novel -- a nightmare fantasy of contemporary society from the versatile pen of J. G. Ballard. The story opens with a crash that results in hero Robert Maitland marooned on a seemingly deserted traffic island just outside London watching the unconcerned
This modern-day Crusoe encounters two inhabitants in his explorations -- a Sadie Thompson-ish neurotic runaway and a mentally defective ex-circus acrobat with the "natural dignity of a large, simple animal" -- whom he manipulates brutally in order to survive. He tells himself, "I am the island" and in case you missed that, the little tart reminds him later, "You were on an island long before you crashed here." Escape, then, becomes problematical: from where? to what? and on what terms? The "conspiracy of the grotesque" that traps him is more than Maitland's trial -- it's his only destiny, and perhaps no more than technological man deserves. Ballard handles this kind of reductive moral fable with incomparable finesse, investing the narrative with savage horror that eats away at banal appearance and reveals the skeleton beneath the skin. It is an allegory of horror in the sublime substance of isolation in a world gone awry.
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motorists stream by. He gradually comes to the realization that his world of normal expectations had disappeared in this island that seemed almost in an alternate universe in spite of his sensations that reminded him of the world he had left behind.This modern-day Crusoe encounters two inhabitants in his explorations -- a Sadie Thompson-ish neurotic runaway and a mentally defective ex-circus acrobat with the "natural dignity of a large, simple animal" -- whom he manipulates brutally in order to survive. He tells himself, "I am the island" and in case you missed that, the little tart reminds him later, "You were on an island long before you crashed here." Escape, then, becomes problematical: from where? to what? and on what terms? The "conspiracy of the grotesque" that traps him is more than Maitland's trial -- it's his only destiny, and perhaps no more than technological man deserves. Ballard handles this kind of reductive moral fable with incomparable finesse, investing the narrative with savage horror that eats away at banal appearance and reveals the skeleton beneath the skin. It is an allegory of horror in the sublime substance of isolation in a world gone awry.
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LibraryThing member William345
3.5 stars. Not SF as I ordinarily think of it, more a quasi dystopia set in the present-day. Affluent Robert Maitland crashes his Jaguar on a precipitous traffic island such as we see all the time occupying the waste ground between ramps and highways. He climbs the grade to street level, but the
The writing is almost wholly vivid description. If anything, it might be said to be overly described. This leaves the reader with an almost vertiginous effect, as if the traffic island were somehow in motion, instead of static. (It's times like these when I realize I read too closely. Certainly the breezy reader, rushing ever onward solely for the sake of plot, would hardly notice.) Except for a rare turgid patch where a metaphor or a bit of description doesn't quite work, the novel is highly readable. I think Ballard's later stories and especially his first memoir, Empire of the Sun, show a subtler writer at work, but Concrete Island is hardly amateurish. It simply represents an earlier stage in his artistic development, and for those of us who like to track a writer's themes and obsessions over time, it may be all the more interesting because of that. Highly recommended.
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traffic's too fast and there are no shoulders. He struck in the hand by an oblivious passing motorist. Then inflammation and sets in; his injuries keep him feverish in the wrecked Jag. When he's ambulatory again, though barely, the island begins to reveal heretofore unsuspected features. Maitland comes across the foundations of an old suburban neighborhood razed long ago to make way for the interchange. He discovers the basements of old rowhouses, a cinema, Cold War-era air-raid shelters, a breaker's yard, etc. Then he realizes he's not alone. By this time, though he won't admit it, or won't accept it--his position is never made entirely clear--he doesn't want to leave the traffic island. Memories of his previous existence--his lovers, profession, friends--grow hazy, distant. The writing is almost wholly vivid description. If anything, it might be said to be overly described. This leaves the reader with an almost vertiginous effect, as if the traffic island were somehow in motion, instead of static. (It's times like these when I realize I read too closely. Certainly the breezy reader, rushing ever onward solely for the sake of plot, would hardly notice.) Except for a rare turgid patch where a metaphor or a bit of description doesn't quite work, the novel is highly readable. I think Ballard's later stories and especially his first memoir, Empire of the Sun, show a subtler writer at work, but Concrete Island is hardly amateurish. It simply represents an earlier stage in his artistic development, and for those of us who like to track a writer's themes and obsessions over time, it may be all the more interesting because of that. Highly recommended.
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LibraryThing member Sean191
Concrete Island is a bit of a modern take on Robinson Crusoe, which the author readily points to, going so far as to mention the story within his own story. The writing started off so poetically, it was really promising. Later, the writing either slacked as the story picked up to move things along,
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or I grew accustomed to it. In either case, I did continue to enjoy what I read. It is an imaginative, creative and well-written work and I had been waiting to get this from the library for months - it was worth the wait. Show Less
LibraryThing member reading_fox
Weird. Although Ballard is more thought of for his SF this is a plain vanilla story in contemporary time, more about mental states than anything else. It's dated very badly in that anyone these days would not suffer from the same issues. On the otherhand, the effect of shock would be the same, and
Maitland is a professional businessman on his way home when he crashes his car into a small abandonded area surrounded by motorways. AT first he simply awaits rescue, but quickly realises that no-one saw him crash, and no-one can see him or his car. He attempts a few different ways to be noticed, but even standing by the side of the motorway he unable to attract attention.
As he begins to suffer from fever and hunger he discovers that he's not alone on his island. A slightly strange young girl and an older mentally deficient tramp share his exile. However it seems that they at leasthave a means of escape and choose not to use it. Maitland spends his efforts in trying to persude them to get help for him.
Although the basic premise is vaguely plausible in '74 before the advent of mobile phones, and instant radio traffic updates, it quickly degenerates into weirdness. Maitland seems to have several possible avenues for leaving or for realising the presence of other humans, and yet ignores them. No explanation is ever given.
Not worth the effort even for this short number of pages.
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the physical crutches we use today are perhaps even more pronounced.Maitland is a professional businessman on his way home when he crashes his car into a small abandonded area surrounded by motorways. AT first he simply awaits rescue, but quickly realises that no-one saw him crash, and no-one can see him or his car. He attempts a few different ways to be noticed, but even standing by the side of the motorway he unable to attract attention.
As he begins to suffer from fever and hunger he discovers that he's not alone on his island. A slightly strange young girl and an older mentally deficient tramp share his exile. However it seems that they at leasthave a means of escape and choose not to use it. Maitland spends his efforts in trying to persude them to get help for him.
Although the basic premise is vaguely plausible in '74 before the advent of mobile phones, and instant radio traffic updates, it quickly degenerates into weirdness. Maitland seems to have several possible avenues for leaving or for realising the presence of other humans, and yet ignores them. No explanation is ever given.
Not worth the effort even for this short number of pages.
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LibraryThing member crazybatcow
Well. It's short.
I had a very hard time accepting the premise of the book (and all these references to Robinson Crusoe are misleading - the only reason why it's compared to that is because the main character of the book itself claims to feel like he is Crusoe). I know there weren't cell phones in
And this part of the story was the most sensible... it just gets worse with some fever-induced rantings. Might have been better if I cared about the main character at all (I did not, he was a jerk)...
(And, this has been bugging me... could one drink car window washer fluid in the 70s? It's toxic now, isn't it?)
I had a very hard time accepting the premise of the book (and all these references to Robinson Crusoe are misleading - the only reason why it's compared to that is because the main character of the book itself claims to feel like he is Crusoe). I know there weren't cell phones in
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the 70s but... if there is a car accident during rush hour, even in the 70s, someone would see it. And even if nobody did, some guy bleeding on the side of the highway isn't going to be ignored for hours, particulary if one of them is a cop car.And this part of the story was the most sensible... it just gets worse with some fever-induced rantings. Might have been better if I cared about the main character at all (I did not, he was a jerk)...
(And, this has been bugging me... could one drink car window washer fluid in the 70s? It's toxic now, isn't it?)
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LibraryThing member dandelionroots
Maitland crashes his jaguar down a steep embankment at the confluence of three motorways onto an island (or so he refers to it since it is effectively cut off from the surrounding city). He becomes seriously injured and is unable to escape despite several attempts and is struggling to meet his
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basic needs for survival. Enter: the natives. I can't say that this was a good story, yet I was entranced all day. Show Less
LibraryThing member john257hopper
This is an archetypal Ballard offering. A motorway driver, Robert Maitland, crashes his car over an embankment into an overgrown island of weeds and rusted metal between three motorways where, trapped and unable to climb out he is stuck and has to resort to ingenious attempts to try to attract the
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attention of the outside world and to survive in this isolated micro-world. In the second half of the novel, he meets two other strange characters on this island, and the struggles between them become a metaphor for Maitland's lack of control over his life and, like a long term prisoner, he becomes almost reluctant to leave the seductively welcoming isolation of his surroundings. I didn't like a lot of this interaction and I thought the novel might have worked better as a short story or novella without it. Interesting and thought provoking as most Ballard novels, but with the same sense of lack of realism as many of them - are we really to believe no-one saw or heard the crash in the first place? Show Less
LibraryThing member Michael.McGuire
This struck me as a condensed version of Ballard's High Rise -- perhaps distilled would be a better term? It's a combination of hyper-realistic minutia and mythic dreamtime. I felt I was reading a commentary on society and man's place within it, more than experiencing a narrative. But I enjoyed the
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examination. Show Less
LibraryThing member jonfaith
A haunting tale, throbbing in its urban insecurity, matters of quotidian angst reach crisis. Each daytrader becomes a Crusoe. It is imperative that the reader control its breathing. Once the cast expanded, about half way through, the tension dropped considerably and a different game was unleashed,
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different and not near as compelling. This becomes a dialogue about conformity, productivity. Matters become controlled when steered by a bank account. I still enjoyed Concrete Island immensely. Show Less
LibraryThing member AlanPoulter
Another Robinsonade ...
LibraryThing member grandpahobo
This is a well told story based on an interesting idea. While the first part of the story had a very good flow, the second part seemed to be a bit forced. It was as if the behavior of the characters was a bit over the top.
LibraryThing member arewenotben
Ballard's prose is superb but as soon as the other characters emerged I was left cold.
LibraryThing member DrFuriosa
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.
LibraryThing member Ruskoley
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
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.
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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.
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Subjects
Original publication date
1974
Physical description
176 p.; 8.1 inches
ISBN
031242034X / 9780312420345