Ballard is one of those writers that I file under "Too much testosterone" a lot of the time and this book sort of fits that category. Its an easy read, Ballard wrote it in a stripped down and unpretentious way, no pointless passages, and I enjoyed his writing style. It makes for a satisfying read. But its gruesome as well. Ironically this is a book that probably couldn't be written today as cars have so many built in safety features preventing injuries. When he wrote the book driving and crashing was a much riskier thing to experience. The "language" of crashes written onto the character's bodies, car company logos seared into flesh, is probably one of the most potent devices/metaphors I've ever seen in a book. I'm not sure I could really tell you what its deeper meaning, if there is one, is though.

I didnt know anything about the book before I read it. Just that its one of those books that cool intellectual types gush about, so wasnt expecting the sex, which adds to the weirdness and sense of unease and dread that permeated the book for me. I read it twice back to back so captivated was I by the style and the characters. All in a book you won't forget in a hurry.