The Drowned World | ||||||||
J.G. Ballard | ||||||||
Orion Millennium, 175 pages | ||||||||
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A review by Victoria Strauss
The Drowned World (brought back into print by Millennium's SF
Masterworks line) was Ballard's first major published novel, way back in 1962. For
Ballard enthusiasts, it's a fascinating read, for it prefigures
many of the themes that pervade his subsequent books:
planetary/ecological disaster, entropy, the devolution of human
nature, a preoccupation with the roots of violence. For those who
aren't familiar with Ballard, it's a good introduction -- more
accessible and less transgressive than some of his later work, yet
full of the arresting surrealism and hallucinatory brilliance of
language that are hallmarks of his writing.
The Drowned World posits (presciently, as it turns out) that
the world has been overwhelmed by a catastrophic greenhouse effect.
It differs from our own impending disaster in that it's natural
rather than man-made. In Ballard's scenario, violent solar storms
have depleted the outer layers of Earth's ionosphere; as these
vanish, temperature and solar radiation begin to climb, melting the
polar ice-caps. This enormous outflow of water carries with it
tons of topsoil, damming up the oceans and entirely changing the
contours of the continents, drowning some parts of the world and
landlocking others. At the same time, the increased radiation
produces freak mutations in Earth's flora and fauna, initiating a
new biological era reminiscent of the Triassic period, in which
reptiles and giant tropical plants were the dominant forms of life.
The harsh environment and a decline in mammalian fertility have
drastically reduced the world's human population. Still, life goes
on, including survey expeditions sent out to map inundated areas
for possible reclamation. The novel focuses on one of these
expeditions, which for several years has been exploring the series
of giant lagoons that used to be Europe. They've been at it so
long that the activity has ceased to mean very much; daily, they
sink deeper into lassitude and indifference. Also, some of the expedition members
have begun having strange dreams, of a primeval swamp dominated by
a huge burning sun that pulses to the rhythm of their own
heartbeats.
These dreams, it turns out, aren't random occurrences or signs of
stress, but the first warning of a much deeper process. Human
beings, responding to stimuli embedded in their genetic makeup
billions of years earlier, are beginning to devolve. The dreams
aren't dreams at all, but memories of the primeval ooze from which
life first emerged. As the Earth is moving back through
geophysical time, the dreamers are moving back through
archaeopsychic time, recapitulating in reverse each of the stages
of human evolution. Is this an odyssey toward a new Garden of
Eden? Or does it presage the extinction of humankind?
In some ways, The Drowned World is not a very satisfactory
novel. It's episodic and rather slow, and its various parts don't
always seem to mesh. Starting as a biological mystery, it veers
suddenly into a bizarre Heart of Darkness scenario, complete with a
mad white hunter and his hordes of native soldiers, and then
returns with equal abruptness to the speculative concerns of the
beginning. Also, Ballard is more concerned with setting and
atmosphere than with character and verisimilitude. The
protagonist, Kerans, is a cipher; many of the other characters are
the merest sketches. The logistical issues that most speculative
fiction writers toil over -- where the expedition gets food, for
instance, or how it purifies water -- are never addressed.
Yet Ballard's vision of planetary and psychic change, as well as
his brilliant descriptions of the altered earth, possess a surreal
consistency that lifts The Drowned World beyond its
structural peculiarities, making it a work of real power. One can
feel the heat, see the jungles spilling over the roofs of the
inundated hotels and apartment buildings, hear the screams of the
iguanas and the giant bats. These oppressive, hypnotic images have
the solidity of something very deeply conceived; they seize the
reader's imagination in the same way that the devolutionary dreams
seize the psyches of the book's characters. Perhaps it's no
accident that these characters and their struggles seem shadowy by
comparison to the vivid landscape in which they move. This is part
of Ballard's message: humankind is impermanent, but time and
nature endure.
Victoria Strauss is a novelist, and a lifelong reader of fantasy and science fiction. Her most recent fantasy novel The Garden of the Stone is currently available from HarperCollins EOS. For details, visit her website. |
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