J. G. Ballard has died. (Telegraph. Boing Boing. Guardian. Independent. Times.)
As ever, the links to know are Simon's place, Rick's place, and Mike's place.
[UPDATE] Not long ago, Toby Litt expressed well that distinct feeling that emerges when reading the best of Ballard's fiction:
When I read JG Ballard, I go into a particular kind of trance. The effect of his books isn't comparable to those of any other writer. His prose, right from the beginning, has a mesmerising pace, rhythm and decorum all its own.
While I would agree with Toby about The Drowned World (which was the book that first turned me into an admirer after a difficult first-attempt at The Atrocity Exhibition and Crash), I think that of Ballard's mid-period work I prefer High-Rise.
Of the later stuff, I think Super-Cannes beats out Millennium People. They're difficult to compare, though, since the latter's tone is far more amused irony, even if it does--as ever--go to some pretty dark places.
But with Ballard, of course, one is spoilt for choice when it comes to picking favourites...
Some links from our archives dealing in one way or another with his writing:
"Seeing everything makes you sad": My translation of a Ballard interview with Welt am Sonntag.
Perchance to dream
Speaking in tongues
Handle with care
Dream the Unlimited Dream
A vision from the hidden side of the sun
Angry (but creative) old men
Matters of Honour(s)
More thoughts on rampant pathologies, modernist ziggurats and countless rabbits
Nightmares at noon
The revolting middle classes
'Dangerous bends ahead'
Worth reading this weekend [Bruce Sterling on Ballard]