Omnia mutantur, nihil interit.

Ingmar Bergman has died.

Fritz Leiber (one of the world’s great fantasists) considered him one of the world’s great fantasists.

About JE

James Enge is the author of the World-Fantasy-Award-nominated novel Blood of Ambrose (Pyr, April 2009). His latest book is The Wide World's End. His short fiction has appeared in Black Gate, Tales from the Magician's Skull, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction and elsewhere.
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6 Responses to Omnia mutantur, nihil interit.

  1. sboydtaylor says:

    That’d be because he was. ‘Tis a loss for everyone. Well, maybe not everyone. But for a lot of us.

  2. fpb says:

    He was a genius in the full meaning of the term, as well as one of those lucky artists who managed to both make money and keep their integrity. Mind you, I don’t suppose it hurt that he was the insider’s own insider – the son of the King of Sweden’s chaplain. He made a lot of his unhappy youth, but I don’t suppose that it hurt him to be at the core of the notoriously insular and inaccessible Establishment of Sweden – a country which is still today, in a very real sense, governed and owned by a small “aristocracy” or Nomenklatura. But one could forgive him anything for the sheer visual beauty of his movies – and for his fabulous staging of Mozart’s Magic Flute, which I do not know how to recommend enough. (And it is up against severe competition, for The Magic Flute is an opera that tends to bring out the best in producers.)

    • JE says:

      his fabulous staging of Mozart’s Magic Flute

      I love that movie. I wish he’d had a stab at Don Giovanni.

  3. al_zorra says:

    It may all be true, but he was also one of the most selfish and pretentious artists ever. After so many viewings of his films I think I can state that with all confidents.

    He was also extremely cruel to members of his family and others.

    Love, C.

    • JE says:

      I suppose he must have overreached himself at times. Still, anyone can be pretentious; not everyone can create films like The Seventh Seal or Smiles of a Summer Night.

      I know very little about his biography (except where he seems to wax autobiographical, not a reliable source of information). The fact that he was married five times seems to indicate a degree of callousness, at least; certainly I wouldn’t try to justify that. But judging the work and the person who produced it are different activities, the former much more usefully productive than the latter.

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