The first book I ever read by Arthur C. Clarke was 2001. I couldn't have been more than 14, and much of it eluded me. Years later I read Childhood's End, and mostly enjoyed it, mostly. Then I read Rendezvous with Rama, and I was hooked. Clarke's magnificent way with making the fantastical totally plausible and real, while pushing the boundaries of both knowledge and the imagination made even the most mundane of stories fascinating. In Rama an alien spaceship streaks through our solar system, and despite our best efforts to investigate it's interior, it remains totally indifferent to our invasion. It sounds boring, but it is anything but. Alas, such tales will be no more. At the age of 90 Arthur C. Clarke died in his home in Sri Lanka. I am saddened not only because yet another great voice is now silenced, but I had also secretly held out the hope that someday I could meet him and thank him for all the hours of joy and wonder he had given me. Perhaps he knows now.
Adieu, Sir Arthur, and thanks.
Marius
1 comment:
It's been a while since I read Childhood's End, but the ending has always stuck with me. Surely the world is a lesser place without Sir Arthur.
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