|

So Long, and Thanks for All the Books:
A Douglas Adams Memorial
By Li Rapkin
The world
is a sadder, saner, more normal place since the death of Hitchhiker's
Guide to the Galaxy creator Douglas Adams on Friday, May 11th,
2001. He died at the age of 49, following a severe, early-morning
heart attack. I got the news from a friend of mine, by email;
he'd seen it on the web somewhere. My first reaction was that
it couldn't possibly be true, but I clicked on the link anyway.
I still don't want it to be true.
Adams
is probably best known for his Hitchhiker's series, both the
original radio and TV programs and the novels, but he also
wrote the "Dirk Gently" novels and several episodes of the
British science fiction children's show, "Dr. Who." His off-the-wall,
satiric humor appealed to me as much when I first read it
in grade school as it does now, although for different reasons.
It's like the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show, in that both kids
and adults enjoy it, but they laugh in different places. I've
actually worn out paperback copies of the first three books
in the Hitchhiker's trilogy, and some of the best gifts I've
received were hardback copies of Adams novels. I've been stuck
in elevators and airports with nothing to read but the Hitchhiker's
Guide-- a situation that Adams probably would have appreciated,
given that being stuck in airplanes and elevators gave him
some of his best material.
Adams'
work is best described as humorous science fiction, with the
emphasis on humor. Legions of science fiction fans have invented
their own recipe for the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, and
Hitchhiker's quotes have been appearing on message buttons
at science fiction conventions practically since publication.
A friend of mine, describing the novel Good Omens, said that
Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman together were almost as funny
as Adams by himself. Personally, I credit Adams with helping
me survive high school with minimal brain damage. I read,
re-read, and re-re-read his books in an ongoing effort not
to take anything too seriously…or sometimes, just for some
much-needed comic relief. The series was often the only point
of common interest I had with the few people I actually got
along with. A few of them even kept towels in the trunks of
their cars, and we used to write Vogon poetry to amuse ourselves
during boring classes. I wouldn't hesitate to say that at
the time, I was thoroughly obsessed-- a rabid, raving fangirl.
The ideas, and the completely irreverent attitude, kept me
going through teen angst, minor depression, major depression,
and SAT preparation. His quote that says anyone who manages
to get elected President should not be allowed to hold the
office under any circumstances has become so commonplace that
most people who use it in serious political discourse probably
have no idea where it originated. Applying the same premise
to a certain Vice Principal who shall remain nameless is the
only logical explanation for how I managed to get detention
by going to the library during my lunch break in my senior
year. Several years later, when I worked in a used bookstore,
I deceived, cheated, and fought off my coworkers in an epic
struggle to possess the complete videos of the TV series…and
those same videos were what I watched on my third date with
the man I married.
Although
I never had the chance to meet-- and thank-- Douglas Adams
myself, I vividly remember a conversation I had about twelve
years ago at a science fiction convention with another Adams
fan. She had written a paper for a literature class, comparing
Hitchhiker's Guide to Jonathon Swift's Gulliver's Travels.
In a moment of über-geekness, she sent Adams a copy of the
paper. To her great surprise, he wrote back and told her he
was glad to hear that somebody had finally gotten it. Although
an Adams novel isn't something I could take seriously, so
to speak, that conversation did give me a new perspective
on the increasingly inaccurately named trilogy. It occurred
to me that when brilliance is combined with humor, most people
miss the brilliance, because in our society, it's more acceptable
to be funny than smart. Douglas Adams was both, and he'll
be sorely missed.
|