Whatever your feelings about the robust atheist beliefs of Christopher Hitchens, you will eventually admit that he was a marvellous orator, and an incredibly good writer too.
So it’s rather sad that he is currently fighting cancer, which is now laying claim to his vocal chords as well. However his mind is as strong as ever and it’s unlikely that the dastardly disease will make any inroads there.
It’s therefore a pleasure to be able to continue reading his work, the most recent of which is an article in Vanity Fair where he shares some thoughts on the loss of his voice and what it means to him. It begins so:
Like so many of life’s varieties of experience, the novelty of a diagnosis of malignant cancer has a tendency to wear off. The thing begins to pall, even to become banal. One can become quite used to the specter of the eternal Footman, like some lethal old bore lurking in the hallway at the end of the evening, hoping for the chance to have a word. And I don’t so much object to his holding my coat in that marked manner, as if mutely reminding me that it’s time to be on my way. No, it’s the snickering that gets me down.
Catch the rest of his thoughts here: