and now ballard is gone.

i'd been looking forward to the next one, wondering if he'd shift direction at all. the last four books bleed into each other, forming a unique contemporary world. although i'm not big on re-reading books, i'm going to have to start the habit to get my ballard fix every once in a while. the atrocity exhibition sits as one of my favourites for some reason, and i could certainly stand to enjoy it again. vermillion sands left me in a delightful dream state. or i could begin again at the beginning. there's so many good ones to choose from.

lately i was trying to crack open some of the ballard classics that i'd been saving for a rainy day. after finally going back and reading empire of the sun a few months ago, i agree that it well deserves its status as one of his great novels. and i still haven't read crash, perhaps unconsciously waiting until there was no more ballard to come before taking it on. there`s his autobiography, too, which may be fun.

now we are left with michel houellebecq and will self to give us that dystopian fix. i can't complain with that, i suppose, but i'm sad i will no longer have a new bit of ballard to fix me up once in a while.