Vermilion Sands

A collection of science fiction stories centred around the fictional resort of the title and neighbouring coastal dwellings, populated by idle and disillusioned movie-stars listlessly wallowing in a state of apathy (perhaps best exemplified by the 'cloud sculptors' of the first story). This collection is like the surrealism of Dali or Pop art in literary form (Dali and Picasso are even name-dropped in one of the stories). It is a strange but vivid picture of an urban landscape dotted with ‘sonic statues’, plants that respond to human singing, jewelled scorpions, sculpted clouds in the skies above, and the blasted detritus of civilisation below, hovering in the sand like a mirage:

Looking out at them this afternoon, I felt, not for the first time, that the whole landscape was compounded of illusion, the hulks of fabulous dreams drifting across it like derelict galleons. As we followed the road towards the lake, the huge wreck of Lagoon West passed us slowly on our left. Its terraces and balconies were deserted, and the once marble-white surface was streaked and lifeless. Staircases ended abruptly in midflight, and the floors hung like sagging marquees.

As is usually the case with short story collections, Vermilion Sands is best to be read in small doses - one story every few days, or even a week, perhaps. Otherwise, one would become numb to the images Ballard is describing which, despite their ingenuity, would likely become repetitive to anyone who reads through them voraciously. Prepare for a lot of similes. Additionally, the stories in this collection all follow largely the same formula: Man becomes intrigued by/falls in love with mysterious woman, becomes involved in some strange predicament relating to a psychotropic house or musical plant, before she reveals she has to leave town.

This may come across like I'm being negative about the collection, which, in fact I'm not. Once the style of the book becomes clear and take it as it should be read (with sufficient time between each story), the strengths of the collection are undeniable; I enjoyed every single story in it and Ballard absolutely succeeded in painting vivid images of this remarkably imagined titular setting. It is a great starting point to understand what is meant by 'Ballardian' landscapes, and for recognising what would become repeated motifs in his oeuvre:

Admittedly most of the abstract villas and fake palazzos were empty, their huge gardens overgrown, two-level swimming pools long drained, and the whole place was degenerating like an abandoned amusement park, but there was enough extravagance in the air to make on realise that the giants had only just departed.