Aw, Madeleine L'Engle has died. She was 88, loved by millions of children and the adults they grew to be, and apparently happy in her life. Such a death is enviable but still a loss to the selfish rest of us.
I haven't read anything of L'Engle's in years. Her Wrinkle in Time series introduced me, at quite a young age, to the sort of micro- and macro-worlds many of us have to be stoned to imagine, and none of my teachers even thought to test my bookbag for banned substances. (Later that kind of oversight would mean my losing large chunks of physics class to helpless giggling over Bored of the Rings jokes with my lab partner. Dear Mr. X, sorry about the hairy toes jokes when you were explaining spectrometry.) I might not have like Gene Wolfe so much if I hadn't learned from L'Engle that religion and fantasy could be blended effectively; so many authors do it badly, but I was comfortable with the cherubim and other angels in L'Engle's work and with the idea that joy is not irreligious.
Eala Earendel engla beorthast
Ofer middangeard monnum sended.
Hail, Earendel, brightest angel,
Over middle earth sent to men.
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2 comments:
Wow, I had completely forgotten about the Wrinkle in Time series. It's sad that she died, but hopefully it will prompt a bunch of parents to give their kids those books.
OK, mention of both the Wrinkle in Time series and Bored of the Rings and illegal substances in one post...thanks for reminding me of why you rock!
Are those three things not inherently linked?
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