In his two most recent novels, Millennium People and Kingdom Come, J.G. Ballard treats England as a country gripped by a consumerist fever, half-aware that something more is necessary to lead a bearable human life, and thus vulnerable to an inchoate revolutionism whose inspiration is part fascist, part socialist.
The booksโ characters are, as usual in Ballard, educated and middle class; no member of the underclass ever appears in his pages. This is not accidental. It is the educated class that is essential to running the country and that sets its moral tone; but โsheltered by benevolent shopping malls,โ Ballard writes in Kingdom Come, it โwaits patiently for the nightmares that will wake [it] into a more passionate world.โ Believing in nothing, sated materially, it is capable of anything to escape boredom.
This represents an important insight. When I briefly served as a kind of vulgarity correspondent for a British newspaperโit sent me anywhere the British gathered to behave badlyโI discovered to my surprise that the middle classes behaved in crowds with the same menacing disinhibition as their supposed social and educational inferiors. They swore and screamed abuse and made fascistic gestures and urinated in the street with the same abandon that they attributed to the proletarians.
๐๐ญ ๐ฐ๐๐ฌ ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐๐ซ๐ ๐ฐ๐ก๐จ ๐๐ข๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐จ๐ญ๐ญ๐๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ ๐๐จ๐ข๐ฌ๐ข๐ ๐ฐ๐๐ง๐ญ๐๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฉ๐ซ๐จ๐ฅ๐๐ญ๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ง๐ข๐ณ๐ ๐ข๐ญ๐ฌ๐๐ฅ๐ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฌ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ข๐ญ๐ฌ ๐๐๐จ๐ง๐จ๐ฆ๐ข๐ ๐ฉ๐ซ๐ข๐ฏ๐ข๐ฅ๐๐ ๐๐ฌ ๐จ๐ซ ๐ฉ๐จ๐ฅ๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐๐๐ฅ ๐ฉ๐จ๐ฐ๐๐ซ.
In Millennium People, the residents of an affluent housing project called Chelsea Marina โhad set about dismantling their middle-class world. They lit bonfires of books and paintings, educational toys and videos. . . . They had quietly discarded their world as if putting out their rubbish for collection. All over England an entire professional caste was rejecting everything it had worked so hard to secure.โ
๐๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ซ๐ข๐ค๐๐ฌ ๐ฆ๐ ๐๐ฌ ๐ ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ ๐ ๐๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐ฏ๐ ๐ฆ๐๐ญ๐๐ฉ๐ก๐จ๐ซ ๐๐จ๐ซ ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐๐ก ๐ญ๐ก๐๐ญ ๐ก๐๐ฌ ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ฉ๐๐ง๐๐ ๐จ๐ฏ๐๐ซ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ฅ๐๐ฌ๐ญ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ฌ, ๐ง๐จ๐ญ ๐จ๐ง๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ข๐ง ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฅ๐๐ง๐ (๐ญ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ ๐ก ๐๐ฌ๐ฉ๐๐๐ข๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ก๐๐ซ๐) ๐๐ฎ๐ญ ๐๐ฅ๐ฌ๐จ ๐ญ๐ก๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ฉ๐๐ซ๐ญ๐ฌ ๐จ๐ ๐๐๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ซ๐ง ๐ฌ๐จ๐๐ข๐๐ญ๐ฒ. ๐๐ ๐ก๐๐ฏ๐ ๐๐๐๐จ๐ฆ๐ ๐๐จ๐ซ๐๐ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ฐ๐ก๐๐ญ ๐ฐ๐ ๐ก๐๐ฏ๐ ๐ข๐ง๐ก๐๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐๐, ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฐ๐ก๐ข๐๐ก, ๐๐จ๐ซ ๐ฅ๐๐๐ค ๐จ๐ ๐ญ๐๐ฅ๐๐ง๐ญ, ๐ฐ๐ ๐ก๐๐ฏ๐ ๐๐จ๐ง๐ญ๐ซ๐ข๐๐ฎ๐ญ๐๐ ๐ฌ๐จ ๐ก๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฅ๐ข๐๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐ฅ๐. ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐๐ซ๐ ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ง๐๐ฌ ๐ฐ๐ก๐ฒ ๐๐๐ฎ๐๐๐ญ๐๐ ๐ฉ๐๐จ๐ฉ๐ฅ๐, ๐ก๐๐ฎ๐ง๐ญ๐๐ ๐๐ฒ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ฉ๐จ๐ข๐ง๐ญ๐ฅ๐๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ง๐๐ฌ๐ฌ ๐จ๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐๐ข๐ซ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฏ๐๐ฌ, ๐๐๐๐ฅ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ง๐๐๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฉ๐ซ๐จ๐ญ๐๐ฌ๐ญ, and he satirizes it in Millennium People. The bookโs protagonist, a psychologist, infiltrates the growing middle-class revolutionary movement and attends a protest against a cat show in a London exhibition hall with Angela, a revolutionary:
- - - - - - - -
โAngela stared across the road with narrowed eyes and all a suburbaniteโs capacity for moral outrage. Walking around the exhibition two hours earlier, I was impressed by her unswerving commitment to the welfare of these luxurious pets. The protest rallies I had recently attended against globalisation, nuclear power and the World Bank were violent but well thought out. By contrast, this demonstration seemed endearingly Quixotic in its detachment from reality. I tried to point this out to Angela as we strolled along the line of cages.
โ๐๐ฏ๐จ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ข, ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐บ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฌ ๐ด๐ฐ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฑ๐ฑ๐บ. . . . ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ๐บโ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ง๐ถ๐ญ๐ญ๐บ ๐ค๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ. ๐๐ฆโ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ณ๐บ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ด๐ค๐ถ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฎ ๐ง๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฎ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ข๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ.โ
Angela never varied her step. โ๐๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ฅ๐ฐ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ธ?โ
โ๐๐ถ๐ด๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ต๐ค๐ฉ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฎ.โ We stopped in front of a row of Abyssinians so deeply immersed in the luxury of being themselves that they barely noticed the admiring crowds. โ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ๐บโ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ฆ๐น๐ข๐ค๐ต๐ญ๐บ ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฑ๐ฑ๐บ. ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ๐บโ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ญ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ข๐ณ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ฅ, ๐ต๐ณ๐บ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐จ๐ฆ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ข๐จ๐ฆ๐ด.โ
โ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ๐บโ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ฅ๐ณ๐ถ๐จ๐จ๐ฆ๐ฅ.โ Angelaโs brows knotted. โ๐๐ฐ ๐ญ๐ช๐ท๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ค๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ต๐ถ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ข๐จ๐ฆ๐ฅ. ๐๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ช๐ด๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ข ๐ค๐ข๐ต ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ธ, ๐ช๐ตโ๐ด ๐ข ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต๐ณ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ค๐ข๐ฎ๐ฑ.โ
โ๐๐ต๐ช๐ญ๐ญ, ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐บ ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ณ๐ข๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐จ๐ฐ๐ณ๐จ๐ฆ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ด.โ
โ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ๐บโ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ข๐ต๐ฉ, ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ญ๐ช๐ง๐ฆ. ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ด๐ต ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ช๐ต๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ฅ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ข๐ต ๐ฃ๐ช๐ณ๐ต๐ฉ. ๐๐ตโ๐ด ๐ข ๐ท๐ช๐ค๐ช๐ฐ๐ถ๐ด ๐ฆ๐ถ๐จ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ช๐ค ๐ฆ๐น๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ช๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต, ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ณ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐๐ณ. ๐๐ฆ๐ฏ๐จ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ฆ ๐จ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ถ๐ฑ ๐ต๐ฐ.โ
- - - - - - -
The press recently ran obituaries of Peter Cadogan, whom one paper called a โprofessional protester.โ Another wrote that Cadogan โspent fifty years on a long quest of resistance to global injustices.โ He appeared inseparable from a megaphone, and no man would have been more disappointed to wake one day to a world denuded of injustice. Apparently, someone read the protest poems of William Blake to him on his deathbed, and these roused him temporarily from a coma. Protest was the meaning of his life. His dying words evoked Blake: โLive differently.โ
Not better, but differently.
This mind-set can result in the violence from which, as Ballard discovered early in life, we are always but a hairbreadth away, however solidly founded our comfort may seem. Civilizationโs fragility does not make it unreal or valuelessโquite the reverse.
โโโ
Theodore Dalrymple //J.G. Ballard, The Marriage of Reason and Nightmare
