Edward Said, whose life we celebrate and whose loss we mourn, was both a lover of life, especially literature and music, and an indomitable fighter for justice—two qualities that do not often sit comfortably together. When I first met h im in Jerusalem, I remember his pleasure when he discovered that my son Stefan was studying to play the organ. They went off happily together so that Stefan could play for Edward on the organ of St George's (Anglican) Cathedral, the church in which Edward grew up and where his grandfather served as pastor. H e was always drawn to other people who appreciated music, and became a musical critic for The Nation magazine. His love of literature led to a life-long career as a teacher and critic. In Orientalism he calls for new and wider perspectives in such novels as Jane Eyre and Heart of Darkness. In a later article, I appreciated his courage in suggesting that a more inclusive approach was needed in dealing with the Bible's book of Exodus, an approach that would include the Canaanite perspective: 'reading the Bible with the eye of the Canaanites'. Another example of his appreciation for the finer things of life was an encounter he had with an Israeli friend whom he chanced to meet on a street corner in Europe. They discussed for a full hour the merits of various types of chocolate, and the location of the best chocolate in the world, eventually nar rowing the search to a particular firm in Geneva, Switzerland. It may seem a paradox that a man who so enjoyed life was such a deter mined and resolute fighter for justice. H e gave up his time, suffered from the misunderstandings of friends, endured painful personal attacks, and yet remained undeterred in his pursuit of justice. It seemed that he, who knew that life could be full and rewarding, was determined to ensure that all Pales tinians could live without fear of land confiscation, home demolition, curfews