We're awfully quick to want to diagnose people in this society. Nevertheless,
this piece by Ian Scheffler in the
New Yorker makes a certain amount of sense and reminds me of my pet
theory - never to be proven of course - that Jack was, in effect, murdered by those who threw him a beating outside a bar in St. Petersburg not long before he died of gastrointestinal hemorrhaging.
Maybe we should just let the guy rest in peace and pay tribute by enjoying his writing instead of speculating about the cause(s) of his demise.
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