(Originally published 2012, Hardcover edition 111 pages)
Without Mr. Hitchens ability to speak or write, he felt empty. The esophageal
cancer eventually took away his ability to rhapsodize to his admirers and
detractors, but left the curmudgeon his funny, acerbic and always illuminating
pen. In this short memoir about his diagnosis and certain death to come, Mr.
Hitchens refused to go gently into that good night without a few good parting
shots. The outspoken atheist covers such topics as religious zealots who are tickled pink that he
has cancer; the illogical nature of prayers; hilarious cancer treatment advice;
the joy of public speaking and basically how medical treatments as well as his
rapidly deteriorating body sucked big time.
Without question, Mr. Hitchens was one of the late Twentieth and early Twenty-first Century's great writers and speakers. Much like H.L. Mencken's work, I did not agree with some of his stances, but I was always entertained by his ability to write wonderful, playful, erudite lines. The afterword by his surviving wife, Carol Blue, was an added bonus. This little, 111-page compendium was a pure joy. Any guy that can have me smiling and burst out laughing about cancer couldn't have been all that bad.
Without question, Mr. Hitchens was one of the late Twentieth and early Twenty-first Century's great writers and speakers. Much like H.L. Mencken's work, I did not agree with some of his stances, but I was always entertained by his ability to write wonderful, playful, erudite lines. The afterword by his surviving wife, Carol Blue, was an added bonus. This little, 111-page compendium was a pure joy. Any guy that can have me smiling and burst out laughing about cancer couldn't have been all that bad.
(Meyers - A few years ago, I
started writing, under the pseudonym Franklin the Mouse, short
reviews at Amazon's web site. This is my most recent review #322)
No comments:
Post a Comment