Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, May 14, 1990 TAG: 9005140181
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A8 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE:
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Percy died last week of cancer at age 73. In years to come, readers and critics will argue the lasting literary merit of his work, but no one will dispute that as a writer, he remained authentic - true to his idea of himself. He did it so well that he doesn't fit into any of the convenient literary categories.
His novels sold well, but he never resorted to churning out tame variations of earlier successes for commercial gain; in a career that lasted 30 years, he wrote six novels and two books of non-fiction. At the same time, he never joined the dry, self-absorbed ranks of "intellectual" writers who disdain "popular" narrative fiction.
Though he was a serious Catholic, he never proselytized in his fiction. Percey was a Southerner, his was a Southern voice, and his novels are set primarily in the South - yet Percy was never considered a regionalist; his concerns were not limited by geography. He managed to combine the novel of ideas with the novel of action in a way that few writers ever manage.
Percy wrote about the big themes: the relationship between man and God, the value of work, the presumptions of science, sex, death, memory, betrayal, redemption. At the same time, he was a satirist. He took his subjects seriously but he didn't necessarily treat them seriously. His best novels - "The Moviegoer," "Love in the Ruins," "Lancelot" - are well-told, demanding stories about flawed people struggling with their world and with themselves.
That combination of intelligence, curiosity and the ability to spin an engrossing tale is rare. Percy had it, and he'll be missed.
by CNB