I really liked this biography and was interested that Campbell resisted biography, so I was glad it was written by a pair of his students who have carried on his work. I remember watching a television series of his lectures and being shocked at the end, to see that he was dead; he was so alive to me in his words and, of course, on film. So you'd think I'd be prepared, entering the final chapter! In full intellectual awareness and, I thought, emotional acceptance of his death, still I felt the sorrow building as we approached the inevitable. The last chapter includes various accounts of people intuiting Campbell's death as it was happening, little incidents of premonition or weird "accident" that, in retrospect, seem like a visitation or a manifestation... I raised my head from my reading to recall that something like that had happened to me regarding the death of a fairly recent acquaintance who, after his death, has become very important to me. Hmm, stuff like this actually happens, I kept pondering...then returned to the reading.
And then this weird thing happened: On a cloudy day, as I sat reading at the kitchen table beside the sliding glass doors, the sun emerged as I read this sentence, part of a closing testimonial by Lynne Kaufman: "He was radiant, the aliveness of the world came through him." The sun slowly faded during the next two sentences, so when I looked up, the day was its former self, and I could laugh and be aware of the fittingness of it all, the choice to read nature symbolically, the simultaneous possibility of the supernatural, the synchronicity or serendipity of it, the personal mythology of it. Delightful.
And now, as I type up my little reading response, the sun has re-emerged and is shining (as "he was shining," also in Lynne Kaufman's testimonial)through my office windows, as if in approval. Ha!