Over at nytimes.com.
I hate to seem morbid, but as I was reading this, it occurred to me that I genuinely think there’s no finer piece of writing or oratory than a well-written, well-delivered eulogy.
When it’s right, it evokes an aspect of the deceased that feels intimate and revealing, and yet familiar. And at the same time, it tells volumes about the grieving loved one delivering the eulogy, about what she values, about what she is evolved enough to appreciate in the deceased.
It’s a lovely piece of art, and Mona Simpson’s eulogy for her brother Steve Jobs is one of the finest I’ve read. It’s making the rounds so you may have seen the link, but if you haven’t actually clicked over to read it, you should.