On Cory Monteith’s Death

How do you presume Cory Monteith would feel, in the metaphorical event that he could witness the reactions to his own death? How it feels, possibly, to be mourned for by many but known by so few out of that many?

How legitimate are your claims of grief for people you never really knew? I suppose, to the people who really don’t think about it, it doesn’t feel artificial. But how, I really do want to know, do you miss someone you weren’t necessarily familiar with? Do you use it to mean you will miss seeing someone’s face in a new episode on television, or that you will no more feel the anticipation of a particular person’s movie or album release date?
Sigh. I never watched Glee anyway. I don’t even know this guy any more intimately than his name. But even if my favourite actress died, I do not suppose I would scry about what an amazing person he/she was. Why?  i never knew him/her personally. 
I really couldn’t even properly grieve for Steve Jobs personally so much as grieve for the world’s loss of a genius brain. And even, from what I read of his biography, that guy was a lunatic and an ass. Albeit, a very hot, genius, lunatic, ass. 
Thinking about it now, I wonder how I would react if Rick Riordan (author of Percy Jackson, a man with an amazing brain) died. I’d be devastated, but I honestly can’t guarantee that I’d even cry. I don’t know the guy! I adore him, but don’t know him.
Anyways. Just a few musings about death. 
Grieve, people, grieve.  
 
-Ivana.
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2 thoughts on “On Cory Monteith’s Death

  1. Your post brings up a lot of questions: what is grief, what does grief look like (in different people) and for whom do we really grieve, when we do. Given that the dead are gone and (presumably) feel no emotional or physical pain, we certainly do not grieve for them; we friend for ourselves, what we have lost and the very notion that we too shall go (as beautifully expressed in the poem, “Margaret, Are You Weeping”. That said, I find that when I am most moved by the death of someone I may not have been personally close to, it’s the simultaneous loss of beauty represented by the extinguishing of a life and the unwieldy and obsidian beauty of such a thing as passing away from this life that stirs me. And in Monteith’s case, I was particularly taken by the man’s private struggles and the reminder it posed that we know not what day to day demons we each grapple with. It’s a beautiful thing that you question emotion, and through this questioning will you continue to grow and find your ontological truth. Question on, my beautiful one!

    1. Aunty Tasha, you are a wise, open-minded, well-read person.
      I can only learn things like this from people like you.

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