as usual, Ballard rocks ( )

Reading a book like this really makes you wonder why SF is still largely ignored in serious art history. All of these sparklingly written stories here do convince on almost any level. The settings are extremely diverse, from a forgotten tourist resort on Mars to the roof of a current society's skyscraper. Yes, the mood is grim, in some pieces even desparately so. Always there is a subtle kind of fear of what will come next hanging between the words. The resulting unsettling atmosphere is maintained with confidence by the writer throughout, who seems to know exactly what he is doing, even though the stories may twist and turn into altogether unexpected territories. Balancing precariously between the eerie and the scary, SF stories from the sixties do not come better than this. ( )