R.I.P. Thomas Disch
I meant to write something about this yesterday, but I got distracted by … yech … work.
Thomas Disch (tomsdisch), the creator of The Brave Little Toaster, killed himself this weekend. He was also the author of award winning SF (Camp Concentration and 334), and an award winning non-fiction book about the field itself.
Near the end of his life he stopped submitting poetry to literary journals unless the journals asked for his contributions. He preferred to publish his poems in his LiveJournal account. In an interview just ten days before his death, Disch said, “I write poetry because I think it is the hardest thing I can do well. And so I simply enjoy the doing of it, as an equestrian enjoys spending time on a good horse. Poetry is my good horse.”
His last post has some beautiful goodbyes, and I wonder if that’s how we’ll go out, now – one day, we stop posting, and that final note receives our friends and family, a place for people to leave their thoughts for all to return to.
When I finished listening to him speaking on Fresh Air yesterday, I found myself dwelling a bit on The Brave Little Toaster, and how we use it as a tongue-in-cheek reference to bullish childhood optimism. Life is hard, even for the toaster. Living at all is a heartbreaking experience, even if you live well.
Please make the most of it. I say with as little irony as I can muster, make your choice each day to feel good about what you can, to cherish whatever light falls on your life, because whether you’ve enjoyed your day (or life) or not has little to do with what happens to you, and much to do with how you choose to feel about it.
Darkly, I wonder who in my life will say, “fuck it, I’m done.” It’s hard to sit here, blinking back tears, knowing that some of my friends are ready to be swallowed whole by the darkness, unable to see the light that I see.
There is nothing I can do but say, “Stop, please… why can’t you see what I see?”
All I have to say is… I adore you, Scott.
Life is pain. Anyone who tells you differently is selling something.
I’ll add more when I get a chance. This is a good point and post.
Right there with you.
Thank you for this. *hug*
“Life is hard, even for the toaster. Living at all is a heartbreaking experience, even if you live well.”
“make your choice each day to feel good about what you can, to cherish whatever light falls on your life, because whether you’ve enjoyed your day (or life) or not has little to do with what happens to you…”
This is what I have to tell myself every day when I wake up. It sucks, but to not be here means I would miss out on living my life with the people I care about most. I sometimes feel that I’m living only for those around me and that I don’t want them to feel bad if I were to go away. but, then I reflect on my day, and the expericences I had because of them, and I’m happy to have shared those moments with them. Life’s a bitch.
echos in my head
I actually had a conversation with my sister tuesday that included having her finally admit that she has been trying to die for years, in part by isolating herself, withdrawing, etc. Living is just too hard, she said. Yet, as I pointed out to her, some part of her doesn’t want to die. She has tried a lot of different things and not achieved death. I told her that living is hard work. It doesn’t ever get easy. I still would rather be doing this than not.
What a loss.
Thanks for your thoughtful postings.
egad. thomas disch’s short story collection, fun with your new head, is a notable brick in the building of my personal structure. i had no idea he was still alive, until you said that he was dead. how surreal.