He was eventually to earn his living working with computers, which interested him because they raised questions concerning mind, intelligence, and artifical intelligence. But he continued his study of philosophy, where his special interest grew to become the relationship between Freud and modern philosophy, a subject around which he envisaged a lifetime of reading, study, and writing.
He was also a poet. The recipient of a two-year fellowship from the Provincetown [Mass.] Fine Arts Work Center, he was poetry editor of The Agni Review at the time of his death. A painstaking craftsman, he lived long enough only to publish one small chapbook of his own work, The Reckless Sleeper (Woods Hole, Mass.: Pourboire Press, 1975).
Norman Dukes died of pancreatic cancer in Cambridge, Mass., in 1982, his forty-first year. His surviving manuscripts have been looking for a publisher ever since his untimely death. One of my best friends, Norman was a good poet and one of the very finest minds I ever knew.
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