By Bob Chambers
I.
Christopher Hitchens, the celebrated “public intellectual” who was born in Dartmoor, Southwestern England, but eventually became an American citizen, died of esophageal cancer on December 15, 2011, at the age of 62. As one for whom the elegant use of language was a defining attribute, Hitchens himself wryly observed the irony of ultimately losing his vocal abilities. In Mortality, his final book of essays – much reviewed recently, most prominently in The New York Times by his friend Christopher Buckley – the dying author caustically noted:
My two assets, my pen and my voice – and it had to be the esophagus. All along, while burning the candle at both ends, I had been “straying into the arena of the unwell” and now “a vulgar little tumor” was evident. This alien can’t want anything; if it kills me it dies but it seems very single-minded and set in its purpose. No real irony here, though. Must take absolute care not to be self-pitying or self-centered.
As perhaps the English-speaking world’s most famous and outspoken atheist, Hitchens on his deathbed became the unsurprising target of scores of religious proselytizers, all hell-bent on playing some role in bringing about an eleventh-hour conversion experience for the Great Heretic.
Not to worry, however, for various pages of Mortality are, in effect, continuations of Hitchens’ atheist classic God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything and thus, in Buckley’s words, “devoted to a final, defiant and well-reasoned defense of his non-God-fearingness.”
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Posted on September 17, 2012