I was saddened to learn about the passing of Christopher Hitchens this morning. His death is no surprise, as he was very ill, but it still stings. I didn’t know him, obviously, and I often disagreed with his opinions, but I was terribly fond of him as a writer. I loved his contrarian spirit, that punk rock disagreeableness that is rarely genuine in pundits or opinion essayists. He had no fear of offending large swaths of the general public, including those in his own circle of friends and fellow travelers. He didn’t offend just for the sake of offending, although there is fun enough in that, but because he actually believed what he was saying. I loved that about him, and I will miss it.
He was a right bastard, and he was a wonderful writer. Losing him at just 62 seems a crime.
As I often think about the late Cathy Seipp, I will think of Hitch when something catches my eye that I imagine would incite some strong opinion from him. Throughout the last few years, (especially after moving to California), I’ve often wondered what Seipp would say about this or that idiotic situation or scandal in our schizophrenic state. Now Hitch will be added to my list of “I wonder…”s.
It is a sad day for those of us who loved him from afar, but my condolences — and yes! My prayers! Ha! — are with his friends and family. Peace to you, and know that his suffering is over. He fought hard, and he fought long.
Rest in peace, sir.