Anthony Burgess, In Memoriam

Today, 21 years ago, Anthony Burgess died. Back in 1993, I discovered his writing when I first read A Clockwork Orange, after having discovered a few months before the movie. A few weeks before he died, actually. It was an epiphany for me, as I mentioned before. He quickly became my favorite writer. Some people remember what they were doing when they learned President Kennedy's death. I remember how I learned of his death: on my way to high school, picking up friends, as they were watching the midday news. I had only read one novel of him, and it already affected me deeply. Years later, I had the chance to meet his widow a few months before she died. But I digress. I often blogged about Burgess, but never commemorated his death until tonight. It was about time.