Download Cocaine Nights by J. G. Ballard PDF

By J. G. Ballard

In Cocaine Nights, J. G. Ballard stretches the taught canvas of his transgressive imaginative and prescient over the framework of out of date secret. The atmosphere: the swank Spanish lodge of Estrella de Mar, the place younger retirees from Europe's colder climes delight in a way of life of never-ending rest. Into the queasy fantastic thing about this synthetic atmosphere steps Charles Prentice, a London go back and forth author who has come to go to his brother Frank, supervisor of membership Nautico—tennis and swim membership by way of day, coked-up discotheque by way of evening. Frank is in penal complex, having confessed to environment an explosive hearth that has taken 5 alive. yes the confession was once coerced, Charles lances his personal research. yet Frank isn't drawn to salvation, and the Spanish police don't wish their open-and-shut case corrupted via a meddling Brit. Refusing to desert his campaign, Charles quickly unearths himself drawn into Estrella de Mar's darkish underworld, and as Cocaine Nights speeds up towards its traumatic climax, Ballard once more unearths his visionary mastery.

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Sample text

On the seventh or eighth night after the death of Lady Madeline, I experienced the full power of these feelings. For hours I lay awake, struggling against a sense of fear. I blamed my surroundings — the dusty furniture, the torn curtains which moved about in the wind of a rising storm, the ancient bed on which I lay. But my efforts were useless. At last, thoroughly afraid, I got up and looked as hard as I could into the darkness of the room. I heard — or thought that I heard - certain low sounds that came, from time to time, through the pauses in the storm.

In spite of its wide swing (which was now thirty feet or more), and its great force, it would not, for several minutes, cut into my flesh. At this thought, I paused. I dared not think further. I watched the blade as it flew above me. Down — steadily down it came. To the right — to the left - far and wide — with the terrible whistle of death! Down - certainly down just above my chest! I struggled violently to free my left arm. I shook and turned my head at every swing. I opened and closed my eyes as the bright blade flashed above me.

I did not know what answer to make to my friend. He admitted that much of the unhappiness which he suffered had a simple, and quite natural, origin. It was the long and severe illness of a greatly loved sister — his close companion for many 27 years — his last and only relative on earth. ' While he spoke, Lady Madeline (for that was her name) passed slowly through the room at the far end, and, without having noticed my presence, disappeared. I watched her with a surprise and deep fear that I could not account for.

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