Simile watch: J.G. Ballard

Besides being a lesson in repetition and anatomical vocabulary, Crash has enough perverted similes in it to satisfy even the greasiest fetishist…

“The images of these wounds hung in the gallery of his mind like exhibits in the museum of a slaughterhouse.”

“This small space was crowded with angular control surfaces and rounded sections of human bodies interacting in unfamiliar junctions, like the first act of homosexual intercourse inside an Apollo capsule.”

“The sheen of moisture on the skin around her mouth was like the bloom on a morning windshield.”

“…the image of windshield glass frosting around her face as she broke its tinted surface like a death-born Aphrodite…”

“In this magic pool, lifting from her throat like a rare discharge of fluid from the mouth of a remote and mysterious shrine, I saw my own reflection…”

“The man, a chemical engineer with an American foodstuffs company, was killed instantly, propelled through his windshield like a mattress from the barrel of a circus cannon.”



Saint Passionate

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