Egyptian writer and columnist, Anis Mansour Cairo – Mohamed Al Shinawi Egyptian writer and columnist, Anis Mansour, has died at 87, on Friday as a result of deteriorating in his health condition as a result of Pneumonia. Nabil Osman, Director of Manour’s Office , has announced in an official statement, \"The death of the great writer Anis Mansour on Friday morning at the age of 87 years.\"
Mansour has suffered a few months ago, pneumonia and severe pain in the back,
And was admitted to the ICU, in one of the hospitals in Cairo. His funeral service is to be held tomorrow, on Saturday.
Anis Mansour a prolific author, popular columnist, dramatist, editor of many publications and philosopher, was born in Mansoura on 18 August 1924. An excellent student throughout his school years, he later read philosophy at Cairo University. After graduating in 1947, he started what became a successful media career, working for Al-Akhbar, then Al-Ahram, and later serving as editor-in-chief of a further half a dozen magazines.
The late thinker, was the editor of several magazines including “generation, the Last Hour, October, Most Trustworthy Handhold, or al-ourwatel wothqaa, May, Caricature or Comics, writer” . Then Anis Mansour worked as a teacher of modern philosophy at the Faculty of Arts, Ain Shams University from 1954 until 1963, and returned to teach again in 1975 .. His article in the daily Al-Ahram newspaper entitled” Positions”.
Mansour’s book about existentialism, the first of its kind in Arabic, was reprinted five times and sold a record 30,000 copies. Although he has gained a different kind of fame for his books on travel, the paranormal and space travel, his passion is philosophy, the only way to try to understand topics like the relationship between man and society, life and death, and ethics and aesthetics, he said.
In fact, Mansour is known for his sayings, many of which will always be associated with his name: ignoring people is the worst form of cruelty; art is the paper fence round the garden of civilisation; every time an artist dies, part of humanity’s vision disappears; nothing is new in art except talent; we call the myths we believe in truth and the truths we don’t believe in myth; it is easier to love humanity than it is to love your neighbour.