J.G. BALLARD – HIGH-RISE – 1975
You will at once think of a film
that came out in 1973 with Michel Piccoli, “Themroc,” in its English title “The
Urban Caveman.” The book came out just two years later and it is an easy
writing task. J.G. Ballard has the style of an easy-going and ordinary
underground traveler. The plot is simple, at times surprisingly unclear and you
will get lost in the 40 floors of this London
high-rise, and first of all by the fact that such a high-rise with 2,000
inhabitants could ever be thought of in 1975. The only downtown tower block in
those days was the Tottenham
Court Tower
if it was called that at the corner of Charring Cross Road and New Oxford Road,
across from the Tottenham Court Road underground station. Then tower blocks
were far away from the center and certainly not beyond twenty floors, what’s
more not really luxurious high-rises, check “Only Fools and Horses” to have a
picture of the type in those days. J.G. Ballard must have been writing science
fiction in 1975 and he was imagining things like the Gherkin, the Cheese Grater
or the Walkie Talkie. Why not the London Eye? The highest building in those
days in that central area of London
must have been the Monument.
But the imaging of this high-rise
moving towards a fully self-contained universe that will little by little keep
the inhabitants more or less captive and make them regress to the most
primitive state of non-development: the survival of the hungry ones who do not
have any prejudice or limits. We have to consider they went back to cannibalism
and the last chapter but one is pure gross phantasm if not nightmare made dream
again in a full pool of blood since the top floor has become a slaughterhouse
of men in the hands of women and for the benefit of children. More regressive than
I you die: back to your mothers men and just die. The only man that was there
will be revealed to have died some time before a lot lower in the high-rise (10th
floor and not 40th floor) and yet the second man arriving will shoot
him, though not to death. Ghost or just hallucination?
And that final well named Mr.
Wilder will walk armed with one small feminine hand bag pistol to the women
there armed with sharp carving knives. Yum! Yum! Children, good meat on the
way! And he has completely undressed himself to be ready for the pit I guess,
not the pit of the pendulum, but the pit full of fire where he is going to be
nicely roasted after being bled to death.
There is another man alive
somewhere on the 25th floor and this one is the slave of two women
and they have just eaten the last dog on the block and there is only a cat left
after that and then two women against one man is not fair but it is clear.
And yet there is something
missing in this short novel. It grosses the reader out a lot but it does not
terrify him and it certainly does not horrify him or her actually, or is it
momentarily, though it sounds rather like a novel written by a man for a male
audience of the slightly not yet adult type.
They want to make a film adapted
from this book? They will have to also make a big effort to make it reasonably
believable: nearly 2,000 people disappeared from the face of London and no one,
absolutely no one, though many of them worked in important positions outside,
ever wondered what happened to their high-ranking personnel, or to their bosses
when they did not show up to open the store (a jeweler’s store for example) or
the businesses. It is not disbelief we must suspend. It is simple basic reason
and sanity. There use to be a time when I got sick when watching horror films:
that was in the 1970s, definitely before Stephen King who has entirely
regenerated the genre, with a couple of other writers. But that is another
story entirely.
Dr Jacques COULARDEAU
# posted by Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU @ 3:50 AM