Clearly, Miracles of Life is a kind of final testament but even more than that (which surely should be enough), it's a dissection of the post-war world.
As a boy, Empire of the Sun was a revelation. Although I obviously don't share Ballard's biography (West Philly instead of Pacific War era Shanghai, an explosive car crash instead of a downed Zero as a pivotal childhood moment) I immediately identified with his matter-of-fact way of describing the most terrible things and the essential fragility of...everything.
I regret that his end will probably be painful. I always imagined his leave taking would come quietly and illness free, after saying his goodnights to loved ones.
.d.