I wasn’t ever a big fan of David Bowie or his music, probably because I didn’t hear a lot of his 1970s material since I was out of the country almost continuously from 1972 to 1978. Nonetheless I recognize how big a cultural icon he was. I’d know that if only by the volume of regretful posts noting his passing from cancer at 69 on my Facebook feed. At least two-thirds of my friends there posted something about him.

Just as you’re muttering “damned cancer, taking the good people early” and putting a lid on that part of you that grieves for people you admired in life without knowing them comes today’s news that Alan Rickman died, also from cancer and also at the relatively young age of 69.

I’m not much of a moviegoer, but I went to see those that nearly everyone went to see over the last 15 years, including the Lord of the Rings movies, the Hobbit movies, and all the Harry Potter ones. I may have seen the cast of the Potter films more than any other bunch of actors in my life, with the possible exception of Sean Connery in his James Bond years. I admired Rickman as Snape. He radiated disdain in that role, and he managed to portray the Professor of Potions and then Professor of the Dark Arts as a sinister and unnerving character. The revelation of his motives at the end of the saga was very satisfying.

From all the acclaim for him that I saw today I may have to rent some of his other films.