The J. G. Ballard series ends with a look at my favorite of his novels — at least so far.
Review: Concrete Island, J. G. Ballard, 1974.
I read this ten years ago and made no notes on it. But it’s a good and memorable novel.
The plot is simple.
A British architect sends his car over the embankment of a highway and onto what is, in the middle of civilization, a manmade island. Unable to escape originally because of his injuries and the highway’s geometry, he discovers a secret culture in the middle of the city.
Eventually, in this twist on Robinson Crusoe, he comes to not only accept his isolation but relish it.