As word of the horrifying death of Arthur Cave broke, I asked Alyson Camus to write something for us for no other reason than to share in Nick Cave’s sorrow to whatever degree we can. Cave has written about the darkest aspects of existence and yet we all know that nothing he, or we, can imagine in our worst nightmares can prepare us for the horror of having your fifteen year old son fall to his death.
It is where art fears to tread, the only way to handle such a loss is from as far away as you can possibly. I have a friend whose three year old sister got run over by a car –that was in 197, and her pain remains to this day. You learn to live with it because you have no choice but to learn to live with it, you spend every day and every night with it that the top of your brain and then it goes a little further down and that is where it remains till you die.
There are levels of hell and this must be nearly the worst,you can feel the pain from here: it rises like smoke from the ashes of life, it is the dreadful that has already happened: the worst thing, the largest worry, the nightmare you try to wake from. You hope the family can help each other through it. His brother will need a lot, it is a and I am sure he will find his way to the future,
Nothing to be said or done, just the absolute worst thing I can imagine for him.