Intent in "Crash"

Crash is something other than just disruptive. Ballard is using Symphorophilia as a cultural result of technological dependency and passing judgements on societal tendencies towards violence and low-brow culture. James's world is contained in metal machines, with a constant upper barrage of airplanes and fly overs and the traffice-clogged roads that travel under the Ballard's balcony but the narrator isn't condemning this new society for losing sight of the natural world. The only mode of transportation used by the central characters is the automobile so they themselves are held in metal eggs whenever they leave their homes. Interaction in the outside world only occurs while inside these cars and true communication only comes when they crash into each other. According to James, these crashes allow for new understandings of sexuality: the crash "victim" experiences not just a mental sexual awakening but also a physical one in the form of "new orifices." James actually fantasizes about the destruction of his wife's mouth and face in an accident, "a new exciting orifice opened in her perineum by the splintering steering column, neither vagina nor rectum, an orifice we could dress with all our deepest affections" (180). Here, Ballard runs with the idea of the inevitable transgressive.

If societal tendency moves towards knocking down what has become familiar and rebuilding something in the name of revolution or a cultural shift then perhaps Ballard is considering a true future. Within the character's themselves there is a feeling of constant search: James and Catherine first look for ways to keep each other sexually aroused and turn to intentional and open adultery; James's crash opens new understandings of arousal with just the idea of violence, then with Gabrielle's wounds, then with Vaughn. In our contemporary world cars are very much a part of daily normal life. I think Ballard belives that humans will soon have to respond to this normativity in the same way that they have responded to other cultural stagnancy (flappers, hippies, punks, etc).

I have the distinct feeling that Ballard has very little faith in humanity. The fascination with celebrities throughout the book and the throngs of people that gather around the car crashes condemn the low-brow addiction to lives more interesting than our own. Snippets of fame and violence are jarring reminders that normal life is boring?

One more note: the word marriage is really stuck in wherever it'll fit within the last fifty to 100 pages. The marrige of the metal and organic bodies is interesting but I haven't figured out why yet...