In both its TV and movie versions, "Star Trek" has been been part of almost everyone's mental landscape for the past fifty years. There have been many iterations of the franchise, depicting interplanetary life both before and after the crew of the USS Enterprise boldly went where no one had gone before.
Fans--whether they classify themselves as Trekkies, Trekkers, or just plain fans--discuss their favorite characters at length. My feeling is that, if someone asks you your favorite Star Trek character, from any of the Star Trek franchises, and you don't automatically say, "Mr. Spock," you're either lying or have a secret agenda.
Leonard Nimoy embodied Mr. Spock, the pointy-eared half-man, half-Vulcan who epitomized a reasonable, logical, but never cold approach to the many anomalies and perils faced by himself and his crewmates. Some critics over the years accused Nimoy of being wooden, but the vast majority realized that Nimoy gave an impeccable portrayal of a being ruled by his head. Everyone knew, as Captain Kirk did, that Spock was the strongest, kindest, most loyal friend you could ever have, even if he did look upon your strongest emotions as an interesting case study. And of course, as every Star Trek fan knows, there were the moments in which Mr. Spock became passionate himself. As Gene Roddenberry remarked, he deliberately made Spock half-human because no mere human could create a totally logical character.
Nimoy's passing seems impossible, so firmly planted is his image in our minds. He rebelled against his typecasting, but eventually made peace with it, The titles of his autobiographies--"I Am Not Spock" and "I Am Spock"--tell us as much. He assayed other roles; I have fond memories of the first Broadway play I ever saw--"Equus," with Nimoy ;starring as the tormented psychiatrist. He also directed plays and films, including--surprisingly enough--"3 Men and a Baby." But it was his fate to be Spock in the collective mind of his time, and he was forever welcome in that guise. In J.J. Abrams' two Star Trek films, the transcendent moments were always when the young Spock, played by Zachary Quinto, confronts Nimoy as his older, wiser self. It is sad to think that we will have no more moments like that in any other Star Trek movie.
Throughout his life Nimoy supported progressive causes, and also his fellow actors; his generosity to Symphony Space, a vibrant center on New York's Upper West Side for new theater, music and film, will be one of his permanent legacies. He was a superb raconteur; in one of his stories, he spoke of how the famous split-fingered Vulcan salute came from the benedictions given at his boyhood synagogue.
Although eighty-three is no longer considered a great age, Leonard Nimoy lived long enough that we can justifiably say he lived long and he prospered. That is a good thing to say of anyone, and in Nimoy's case we are all the richer for it.