By many accounts, two great men died today (although, for some, one of them died tomorrow). Arthur C. Clarke has retired from this material life, with nary a shower of stars to mark his passing. Anthony Minghella, well known for directing The English Patient (among other things), fell prey to complications following surgery.
Now, I'm not familiar with the following of Mr. Minghella. I am, however, rather familiar with the fannish kith and kin of Arthur C. Clarke. The echoes of his death are spreading across cyberspace, out into the world, and mourning follows.
The science fiction community is congregating in groups, the bereaved loosely united and circulating among clusters in the vast cyberspace-cum-wake of Livejournal, blogs, bulletin boards, and e-mailing lists. And, as invariably occurs at one of these gatherings, someone has uttered the tried and true adage: "We are all diminished."
Yet this time I blink at the adage, momentarily blinded by something. I agree entirely: the world of science fiction is diminished by Clarke's passing. The landscape of the science fiction world is changed, and ideas recently preparing to be shaped by Clarke's pen have fallen back into chaos. But the word diminished haunts me. That blinding light is still there: an exploding star, super-nova, flashing out into the universe.
But not necessarily gone. Exploding stars can become parts of new stars and new planets. A dying star does not always and invariably diminish the universe: it replenishes the universe. It can make it a brighter and more dazzling place.
I wonder: why do we never reflect on this replenishment? Why do we always sigh, eyes shining, and moan "we are all diminished"?
For my part, I would like to see these mourners rise up in the light of this most recent super-nova. Let yourself be dazzled by the power of Clarke's career. Share your most beloved stories so that his legacy as a Science Fiction Giant lives on. Create. Let your own work, be it artistic creation or astronomical research or propagation of philosophy replenish the world around us.
Furthermore, do this always. No longer be content for the world to be diminished as great ones pass. No longer sigh and moan and carry on, a little more bowed in the face of the universe. Stand up and celebrate! Not only in the face of death: we should acknowledge those persons wherever we find them, those who are currently illuminating the world in new ways, for they are already replenishing us.
To this end, I would like to acknowledge the death of the brilliant Arthur C. Clarke and also the growth of the scintillating
MCA Hogarth. Even as one Grand Old Man of SF leaves us, we have a trailblazer getting into the hearts and minds of alien culture.
We are diminished, yet also are we replenished.