When an acclaimed, veteran artist dies, do not think the lost art, because their deeds are always shining at the altar aesthetic. Although it sounds hard, it is they and not the person, we read, hear, see, admire and revere: the 9 th Symphony of Beethoven and Beethoven are not what we love, is "One Hundred Years of Solitude" the universal and non-García Márquez, but the text of García Márquez. The author or the author of memorable works is the less I care, unless it be for the cancer of personal intimacies to investigate its level of morbid curiosity, or because you admire in other areas of public life.
Yes, it is just being recognized merit, congratulate you and look after him. On a personal level, are his family and friends who are fully entitled to feel his physical departure, but upon learning of his death do not agree with painful expressions "is a great loss to literature, film or music because if it is someone really dedicated / a can assume that he and his great contribution in these branches of art leafy tree. What is truly sad, for example, would have been for Edgar Allan Poe had died which encunetado drunk ... Without writing their chilling stories!
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