In the past couple of weeks, I've read a couple of so-called "shocking" books: J.G. Ballard's "Crash" and Poppy Z. Brite's "Exquisite Corpse." Both are explicit explorations of where sex and violence intersect, but each approaches this taboo differently.
Ballard's novel centers around the budding affair between a car-crash survivor and the widow of a man he killed in said car crash. Having both escaped the wreckage of this fatal accident, they find that their once-latent violent desires are now thrashing to the surface. They soon come across a man, Vaughn, who shares their same erotic predilection toward road accidents and who enjoys re-creating famous car crashes of the past. Before long, a self-destructive love triangle forms that envelopes a number of fringe players, as well: the protagonist's wife, another car-crash-survivor friend of Vaughn's, and a stunt driver Vaughn uses in his crash re-creations.
The sex is explicit and plentiful, but severely clinical. Rarely is human sexuality referred to in any but the most anatomical of ways: penis, vagina, anus, fellatio, intercourse, coitus, etc. The characters do not make emotional attachments and their numerous affairs are as perfunctory and mechanical as the cars that inspire them. The characters seem driven -- pun partially intended -- toward fulfilling their own violent ends, urged forward by the rush of having precipitously walked the line of mortality. Ultimately, the protagonist (named after the author) is able to walk away from this pursuit after having witnessed Vaughn's demise in his final car crash. Ironically, Ballard's dabbling in empty sex and extreme fetishism leads to his emotional growth and the renewed closeness between him and his wife.
The author's writing style is interesting and lends credibility to bold subject matter that could have easily descended into parody and pulp. There are a number of turns of phrase and bits of lexicon that are repeated almost ad nauseum, particularly in sections that attempt to liken human anatomy to automotive anatomy. However, the repetition seems necessary to emphasize that the characters are ultimately driving a fruitless road that takes them further away from the vibrancy and humanity they had been trying to re-capture through their sexual exploits.
Though the novel is interesting and well-written, it's probably not as profound as the author would have liked, and its borderline pornographic subject matter not appeal to many readers. However, its boldness is refreshing in a way that most novels could never attain.
Brite's novel is even bolder. Essentially, it's a gay love story between two serial-killing necrophiles: Andrew Compton and Jay Byrne. In addition to their shared sexual preference towards the dead, Jay also engages in cannibalism. Compton, an Englishman, fakes his own death in order to escape prison, and he flees to America -- specifically New Orleans, the murder capital of the country -- to begin his killing anew. Jay is a rich recluse whose unusual hobbies have entwined him with the rave-driven, often derelict underground, wherein he meets a Vietnamese teen named Tran who develops a dangerous attraction to Jay. Eventually, Jay and Andrew meet and their mutual interests grow into love, of a sort. They decide that making Tran their next victim will further strengthen their bond. Tran's obsessive ex-boyfriend, Lucas, ultimately impedes Jay and Andrew's pursuit of the perfect kill.
Like Ballard's novel, the story is explicit and pulls no punches. In addition to graphic (strictly homosexual) sex, "Exquisite Corpse" contains a strong dose of splatter and viscera. Descriptions of bodily mutilation, consumption and sexual objectification of dead human flesh, and other gruesome acts are laid out naked and unfettered. Though the story is shocking, Brite's intentions are not solely the stuff of the grand grimoire: she provides a stark insight into the AIDS pandemic, particularly its status as a "gay plague." A handful of the characters, including the main "protagonist" Andrew Compton, are HIV positive and the reader gets a harsh view of the world through the eyes of a pariah.
Brite's writing is darkly poetic and she makes the subject matter about as palatable as it could be. Though the novel switches points-of-view on occasion, it mostly sticks with the first-person recollections of Compton, and he has an interesting enough personality to drive the story without having to cling solely to the sex and gore. "Exquisite Corpse" is a novel that exposes a brutal underworld, and its central locale -- New Orleans -- is well-expressed and palpable as a living, breathing city, as a perfect host for the parasitic protagonists.
Both "Crash" and "Exquisite Corpse" are interesting, off-the-mainstream takes on the deviancy of the human race, though they are absolutely not for the weak-of-heart. Brite's work, in particular, is one of the most brutal assaults on the senses that I've ever read, so proceed with extreme caution.
