Being offline from about 6pm onwards last night, I heard of Clarke’s death by phone instead of by internet, which is unusual these days. It also makes me late to the posting party.
Childhood’s End was one of my favorite books in high school. I remember reading it several times. There was something that resonated with me about the transformation of the children and their disassociation from the adult world that grew ever-wider.
I feel, today, as if some presence is missing; some part of the me I remember. No more Arthur Clarke. No more Madeline L’Engle. No more Lloyd Alexander. I can’t live on that planet anymore and that’s so strange.
Those of us left behind who are writing sf can only hope to someday touch the hem of the garments of writers like Clarke, L’Engle, Alexander, et al. Thank heavens for books – for we can still hold them dear.
And no more James Oliver Rigney, though his status as one of the greats may be debatable, he was a good man.
“I can’t live on that planet anymore and that’s so strange.”
You can visit anytime – just pick up one of their books, curl up in a good chair, and there you are.
It is truly a sad loss to the writing community in general…
Writers I grew up with as a kid . . . you’re right, it’s so weird to think that my kids won’t feel them as such a force.
I too loved Childhood’s End in high school. What a profound novel!
And yes, it is a changed world.