Super-Cannes

Author: J.G. Ballard

First published: 2000

It’s 392 pages long, which at 34 lines/page, 10 words/line, is around 133,000 words. There are 42 chapters, each around 3,000 words, it’s in two parts. I needed to know!

The point of view is first person. The protagonist, Paul Sinclair, is an aircraft pilot, ex-RAF, recovering from both legs being broken in a flying accident. He’s newly married to Jane, who’s much younger, a paediatrician, starting a six-month secondment at Eden-Olympia, a giant business park above Cannes. She’s taking the place of David Greenwood, a doctor she knew from London, who killed ten people with a rifle before being killed by security staff.

I wanted to read this now because it’s a book I’ve told myself I love for years, but I couldn’t say why, and I remember it was also frustrating, and again, I couldn’t say why. The idea of an outsider going to a campus where something is terribly wrong is part of my work-in-progress. I was looking for prose style ideas and also to see how Ballard moved his story through time (because I’m not good at that). What timeframe does the story unfold over? How many characters are there? What made it so readable? Why did it stick with me?

The first chapter sets up the dynamics of the Sinclairs’ marriage and packs a lot of inciting incident information. Paul observes Jane: reading the details of Greenwood’s death in Paris Match, driving the Jaguar aggressively, changing spark plugs, being protective of Paul’s legs which are in braces from his accident, and being doubtful about her decision to take the new job. He describes his relationship with his parents, his business as an aviation publisher, and it becomes clear they are both impulsive adventurers egging each other on. It’s a chapter to set everything up.

From here, each chapter is a scene, more or less, between Paul and one of the characters working at Eden-Olympia. While Jane loses herself in Eden-Olympia’s relentless work ethic, Paul is bored and easily led by the psychiatrist Dr Wilder Penrose into an investigation of Greenwood’s crimes. At each turn he’s met with a new clue and more details of the criminal underbelly beneath the world of extravagantly paid CEOs and scientists. It’s propulsive, lyrical, intelligent, full of philosophically playful ideas about work, capitalism, corporations and what it means to be human, and it’s sexy in a cold, disturbing way.

Towards the halfway point, it begins to feel dull. Every character outside of Paul and Jane’s marriage is unpleasant. It’s exciting to find the next piece of the plot’s puzzle, and the descriptions are often wondrous, but the coldness and nihilism, which is the part of the point of the novel, sucks away much of the fun. Everyone involved in Eden-Olympia is a workaholic zombie, except for Dr Penrose, who is joyfully running his violent experiments.

Ballard thankfully changes gear to give the story a new lease of life, first via the emotional reactions of security head Frank Halder, then with the sexual manipulations of Frances Baring, and finally the philosophical reveals of psychopath Penrose to set up the final act.

What I found frustrating: it’s 150 pages too long; he has lyrical motifs that can grate; it’s rigid, repetitive, and too emotionally cold for my taste.

What I want to take with me: the way a character can give the world a personality through details; sweet, seedy dialogue; how characters have memories and fantasies; being daring with ideas.