bmattock
Veteran
Science Fiction writer Stanislaw Lem has died, a great loss for the genre.
http://www.allheadlinenews.com/articles/7002958184
Lem was a noted curmudgeon, perhaps one of the reasons I liked him so much...
http://www.lem.pl/cyberiadinfo/english/osobie/biogrys.htm
So RIP, Stanislaw Lem.
Best Regards,
Bill Mattocks
http://www.allheadlinenews.com/articles/7002958184
Science-Fiction Writer Stanislaw Lem Dies
March 28, 2006 4:26 p.m. EST
Joanna Wypior - All Headline News Staff Reporter
Krakow, Poland (AHN) – Polish writer and Solaris author Stanislaw Lem has died at age 84, in a hospital in Krakow, Poland, after having suffered from a heart disease.
The popular science-fiction writer, who preferred to have his work called ‘reality-based’, sold more than 27 million copies of his works that were translated into a number of languages and adapted to film.
His 1961 novel Solaris was made into a movie by Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky in 1971 and again by American Steven Soderbergh in 2002, which starred actor George Clooney.
Much admired with a heavy following in the United States, Lem was far more celebrated in Eastern Europe, where he was allowed a remarkable freedom of movement and expression in an otherwise repressive society during communist years.
After the fall of communism in 1989, Lem ceased writing science fiction, instead devoting himself to nonfiction essays on future trends, including computer crime and the ethical problems of the internet.
Lem is survived by his wife and a son. Funeral arrangements have not been disclosed.
Lem was a noted curmudgeon, perhaps one of the reasons I liked him so much...
http://www.lem.pl/cyberiadinfo/english/osobie/biogrys.htm
Norbert Wiener begins his autobiography with the words "I was a child prodigy." What I would have to say is "I was a monster." Possibly that's a slight exaggeration, but as a young boy I certainly terrorized those around me. I would agree only if my father stood on the table and opened and closed an umbrella, or I might allow myself to be fed only under the table. I don't actually remember these things; they are beginnings that lie beyond the boundary of memory. If I was a child prodigy, it could only have been in the eyes of doting aunts. (...) In my fourth year I learned to write, but had nothing of great importance to communicate by that means. The first letter I wrote to my father, from Skole, having gone there with my mother, was a terse account of how all by myself I defecated in a country outhouse that had a board with a hole. What I left out of my report was that in addition I threw into that hole all the keys of our host, who also was a physician...
-Stanislaw Lem, on his own childhood
So RIP, Stanislaw Lem.
Best Regards,
Bill Mattocks