Today the world of fantasy lost it’s greatest author since J.R.R. Tolkien.  Robert Jordan, author of the eleven volume series “The Wheel of Time” passed away from a rare blood disease.  He was diagnosed a year ago, and, from all appearances, was getting better.  That makes his passing even more shocking to those of us praying for his recovery.  He was only 58 years old. As a two-tour veteran of the Vietnam War and a graduate of The Citadel, he was not your typical sci-fi nerd. And he wrote about war and death from the perspective of a person who has experienced it firsthand.

I know this probably seems insignificant for anybody who hasn’t read his books, however, you have to understand that many of his fans have been reading “The Wheel of Time” for over a decade.  The series is unique in that unlike most other long fantasy series, Jordan did not create a few central plot threads that span the series and then use each installment to create and complete a variety of minor plot threads.  Rather, he has kept his plot threads open and alive, literally dozens of plotlines and hundreds of characters, throughout the series.  “The Wheel of Time” is, essentially, one enormous story.  Regardless of your taste in reading, or opinions of high fantasy in particular, there is no way to read his books and not be convinced that the author is a genius.  One would have to be to be able to so intricately maintain and develop an entire world, distinct cultures, a system of magic so detailed it functions with rules and reason and its own internal logic - like physics in a way, through out thousands of pages of writing.  And his work was no common rehashing and renaming of Tolkien’s work, like the vast majority of high fantasy.  It was unique and creative in a way that no other author of the high fantasy genre has been able to achieve.  Tolkien’s greatness is equal to Jordan’s only because Tolkien was the first to accomplish a creation of this magnitude.

When I learned this morning that Robert Jordan had passed away, I felt a rather unexpected sinking feeling in my stomach. I still think I’m in shock. With the sense of despair and loss the thought that shot through my head was “Did he finish book 12″? This made me feel like a bad person. Because, and this is the cruel twist of Fate’s manicured hand, Robert Jordan was working on the final volume of “The Wheel of Time” when he became ill. It is not completed. The final volume promising to bring together over fifteen years of story won’t be written by the man who planned it. It will not be the same. It really can’t be.

This made me feel like a bad person at first. But upon further reflection, I don’t think it should. I feel like I know Robert Jordan. His work and his world have been a part of mine since I was 17 years old. What greater complement can a fan have for an artist as to feel genuine sorrow at the loss of the artist’s work? Or the knowledge that the work will never be completed, at least in the way that only the artist himself could?

Rest in Peace, Sir.

P.S. - Once I get to the “anger” stage of my grief, I’ll have some words about Punahou and Hawaii’s alleged “small town mentality.”

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