Human judges can show mercy. But against the laws of nature, there is no appeal.
— Arthur C. Clarke
Celebrity deaths are curious things; we find ourselves grieving over the loss of someone we’ve never met, and only knew through some body of work they’ve left behind as a legacy or, in some cases, have only even heard of because they were “famous for being famous”. Usually these deaths have little effect on me; I may regret the loss of further contributions from that person, or commiserate in a detached sort of way with their families because I know what it’s like to lose a loved one. But at most there’s only a momentary pang of sadness, and then I get on with living life among the people who I do know and care about on a personal level.
Before today, only three times had the passing of someone famous had a profound impact on me, a sense that somehow the sum total of the things that are wondrous and wonderful here on our little space rock has been diminished in a way from which it will never fully recover. The first two were Jim Henson and Carl Sagan, who had tremendous influences on my childhood and adolescence. The third was, for reasons I have yet to figure out, the actor Andreas Katsulas, about whom I knew almost absolutely nothing beyond that he played a favorite character of mine on a television show (I have only a vague sort of knowledge what the guy even looked like behind the mask and makeup that turned him into G’kar).
It’s fairly well known that when Hemingway wrote “ask not for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee“, he was saying that the loss of one life is a loss for us all, and we are lessened by it.
Today, the bell rang out loud and clear for science fiction writer Sir Arthur C. Clarke. Best known in popular culture for the movie “2001: A Space Odyssey” and its sequels, Clarke is better remembered for the many books, stories, and articles written in his 90 years of life. His imagination has changed our world; he was the guy who, in the 1940s, came up with the crazy idea of trying to put a man-made object into orbit and bounce communication signals off it. Of the men I consider the grand masters of science fiction – Heinlein, Asimov, Herbert, Clarke, and Bradbury, all gone now save for the last – Clarke was often perhaps the most realistically visionary. By this I mean that while he could write visions of the far future with the best of them, he also excelled at showing us hints of the near tomorrows, the almost-here futures that, for better or worse, could (and often did) happen during his readers’ lifetimes.
I’d like to end with a small selection of quotes from his writing, but there are so many great ones to choose from that it’s hard to limit myself to just a few.
There is, of course, Clarke’s Third Law:
Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.
Another favorite of mine is this one, a sentiment echoed later by Carl Sagan in his “Pale Blue Dot” monologue:
It is not easy to see how the more extreme forms of nationalism can long survive when men have seen the Earth in its true perspective as a single small globe against the stars.
On information vs. knowledge:
…it is vital to remember that information — in the sense of raw data — is not knowledge, that knowledge is not wisdom, and that wisdom is not foresight. But information is the first essential step to all of these.
He had a few thoughts on religion as well:
Perhaps our role on this planet is not to worship God — but to create Him.
I would defend the liberty of consenting adult creationists to practice whatever intellectual perversions they like in the privacy of their own homes; but it is also necessary to protect the young and innocent.
The greatest tragedy in mankind’s entire history may be the hijacking of morality by religion.
I don’t believe in God but I’m very interested in her.
When challenged to write a 10-word short story:
“God said, ‘Cancel Program GENESIS.’ The universe ceased to exist.”
On UFOs:
They tell us absolutely nothing about intelligence elsewhere in the universe, but they do prove how rare it is on Earth.
There are plenty more where those came from, but I’ll sign off with Clarke’s own words on the occasion of his 90th birthday last December:
I’m sometimes asked how I would like to be remembered. I’ve had a diverse career as a writer, underwater explorer, space promoter and science populariser. Of all these, I want to be remembered most as a writer – one who entertained readers, and, hopefully, stretched their imagination as well.
I find that another English writer — who, coincidentally, also spent most of his life in the East — has expressed it very well. So let me end with these words of Rudyard Kipling:
If I have given you delight
by aught that I have done.
Let me lie quiet in that night
which shall be yours anon;And for the little, little span
the dead are borne in mind,
seek not to question other than,
the books I leave behind.This is Arthur Clarke, saying Thank You and Goodbye from Colombo!