Frank Kermode, one of the finest of literary critics (I would love, just once, to produce a piece of criticism comparable to his work), died yesterday. The London Review of Books (which will be the worse for his absence) has a commemoration here.
I saw him once, on a panel with Terry Eagleton (my other great critical hero), James Wood and Zadie Smith. It was memorable, to say the least. I wrote about it here.
He was sharp, waspish, devastating, devastatingly funny, knowledgeable, even-handed. If you want the very model of a modern literary critic, look no further.
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Oh, God! This is very sad news. He truly was one of the greatest. Thank you for posting about this, Paul.
The Sense of an Ending is one of the best works of literary criticism I have ever read.