Thomas M Disch

iansales

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Thomas M Disch, best known for Camp Concentration and The Brave Little Toaster, died by suicide on the weekend. Clute's entry in The SF Encyclopedia described him best (and has already been quoted many times):

"Because of his intellectual audacity, the chillingly distant mannerism of his narrative art, the austerity of the pleasures he affords, and the fine cruelty of his wit, Thomas M. Disch has been perhaps the most respected, least trusted, most envied and least read of all modern first-rank SF writers."
 
What's even sadder is that no one on this forum posted the news until I did at 2 pm (GMT), although Locus had broken the news yesterday. And no one besides you and myself has commented on it...
 
That sucks.

I just bought my first Thomas M Disch book.

Why do all of my favorite SF die before I get a chance to really appreciate them?

I expect any day now to see a posting on Ballard's death.

Sad.
 
Terrible news.

I haven't read as much Disch as I ought to have - I have read Camp Concentration though. 334 is somewhere in the to-be-read pile. On Wings of Song would be if I had a copy of it.

On the other hand, I *have* read his parody Victorian gothic, Clare Reeve, which he wrote under the pseudonym Leonie Hargrave.
 
On the other hand, I *have* read his parody Victorian gothic, Clare Reeve, which he wrote under the pseudonym Leonie Hargrave.

That's one I keep meaning to pick up a copy of, having read the real Mrs. Reeve's early Gothic novel; but I haven't yet done so.

I hadn't heard about this, as I hadn't heard any news for the past 48 hours, so it came as quite a jolt....
 
Thomas Disch commits suicide...

What a shame. He was a really interesting character.

I liked the couple of novels of his that I read, but I just LOVED The Dreams Our Stuff is Made Of, one of his nonfiction books. It's arguably the best look at sci-fi and its place in our culture... ever.

RIP.

Locus Online News: Obituary: Thomas M. Disch
 
No apologies necessary; and I'm glad to see someone else responding to his death; I wish it were on a more pleasant topic, such as a new book of his, but I'm glad to at least see some recognition of the man and his work....
 
Not heard of him personally but it's always sad to see someone leave us.

RIP
 
Sorry to hear about his death. I read 'Camp Concentration' aeons ago but my favourite was 'Echo Round his Bones', which was based on a fantastic idea spun off from matter transmission, which was then developed into a very good plot which worked on a literal planetary scale. Recommended.

Also, hats off to 'The Puppies of Terra'. Never read it but what a title!

RIP
 
I have most of his books already:

334
Camp Concentration
The Genocides
The Puppies Of Terra
The Man Who Had no Idea
Fundemental Disch
Getting Into Death and other stories
The Businessman
Word Of God (his last novel that just came out after his passing.)
Black Alice (collaborated with John Sladek.)
The Dreams Our Stuff Is Made of
The Castle of Indolence

Other books I've yet to nab:

The Priest: Gothic Romance
The M.D.: a Horror Story
On The Wings Of Song

There are few others that mentioned his passing: "Remembering Thomas Disch" by Elizabeth Hand is over at Salon.com. Ray Garton, another writer, mentioned his passing posted over at one of the web sites.

I remember him for his book reviews in the now defunct Twilight Zone magazine under the editorship of T.E.D. Klein.
 
My thoughts on Camp Concentration:

Louis Sacchetti, overweight poet and draft dodger bears a passing resemblance to Burgess' Enderby, and the first half of this novel has some of the verbal virtuosity and subversive brio of Burgess' books. The set-up has elements of a dark satire on the extent to which governments will go in furthering their own interests, especially in times of war, real or aggravated. A theme that may never lose relevance, sadly, although written in the context of the Vietnam war in this case.

The narrative fragments several times - Disch rigorously sticks to his chosen device of presenting the novel as Sacchett's prison journals, with the various natural lacunae and digressions implied in a journal written under difficult circumstances in eventful times. As the novel proceeds, the science fictional elements as well as the dilemmas they pose seem to recede in favour of an examination of a one-dimensionally evil persona and a fortuitous ending that greatly reduced the impact of the book's horrors. Good in parts; extremely good at moments, but ultimately not as unflinching or integral as '334'.
 
Enjoyed CAMP CONCENTRATION, fascinated with THE DREAMS OUR STUFF IS MADE OF, gave up on 334. May try again sometime.
 

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