The book, 49,000 words of it, was written on his laptop in the last five weeks of his life, in pain and discomfort, an extraordinary feat. It is partly an account of the progress of the cancer and of the care, kindness and love he received from doctors, nurses, auxiliaries and cleaners, a tribute to the NHS; partly reminiscences, thoughts on Scottish culture and life, and unavoidably reflections on death. Here, quoting Boswell’s description of his visit to the dying David Hume – which he admires as a fine journalistic scoop – he agrees with the philosopher: no life after death, and no reason to be disturbed by the thought.
