Vale, Bob Ellis, an Australian Colossus.

Bob Ellis, one of the great, Protean figures of Australian cultural and political life, passed away on Sunday afternoon after battling a rare liver cancer. A magnificent fig has fallen.

Bob was never dull - he was hyperbole's bosom friend - and always wrote and behaved with the future and morality of his beloved nation at heart. He could compose a phrase like no other, making it sing like a thought never before sung, whether for a politician's speech, an essay, criticism, or a film or play. He was one of our great writers, a thinker, a contributor, a scoundrel, a provocateur, a melancholic warrior, a comrade. His roguery and relish marked him as an Australian Gore Vidal. Like no other, he inhabited the forests of politics, arts and culture equally. He was indisputably an Australian colossus.

Many years ago, I loved directing a workshop of one of his plays at Sydney Theatre Company. Ever since, like many others in my field, I mostly saw Bob in theatre foyers. The fellowship was enduring and I usually came away knocked-up and nourished by at least one outlandish claim. But this was his mode: he was one of our great mythologisers.

His books are pleasure gardens of insight, and I own them all. I was a daily reader of his blog. On Sunday night, Bob's son, Jack, posted Bob's school report on the blog. It is touching in its accurate simplicity.

A sad Sunday night. And so it goes...