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Malcolm Lowry

@malcolmlowry.bsky.social

250 followers 110 following 320 posts

Novelist. Short-story writer. Poet. Alcoholic. Eridanus

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Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · Aug 18

An ode to a book and its writer..

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Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · 6d

"I have discovered one first rate author, an American, Julian Green, who writes in French, which is translated back again into English."

theamericanreader.com/19-september...

19 September (1931): Malcolm Lowry to Conrad Aiken | The American Reader

theamericanreader.com

Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · 6d

...but still the old bandstand stands where no band stands.

Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · 14d

But my lord, Yvonne, surely you know by this time I can’t get drunk however much I drink.

Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · 20d

Taken at "Lieben", Bowen Island. Left to right are Reg Watters (Canadian editor and anthologist), Malcolm, Margerie, and Earle Birney. July 1947.

Special Collections Library, UBC - BC 1614/25.

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Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · 20d

Everything that deceives may be said to enchant.

Plato, The Republic

Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · 21d

How could he have thought so evil of the world when succor was at hand the whole time?

Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · 22d

Rain - rain - rain here, Vancouver's Jubilee, and the city full of wild Indians.

Yours sincerely, Malcolm Lowry

Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · 24d

Some words on David Markson.

themillions.com/2016/03/this...

Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · 26d

A documentary on Lowry that is not for the faint of spirit. Regardless, a must watch.

www.nfb.ca/film/volcano/

Reposted by Malcolm Lowry

Harry Finch @harryfinch.bsky.social · Sep 7

|

'It was doubtless the almost tactile

absence of the music however, that

made it so peculiar the trees should

be apparently shaking to it, an illusion

investing not only the garden but the

plains beyond, the whole scene before

his eyes, with horror, the horror of an

intolerable unreality. This must be not

unlike, he told himself, what some insane

person suffers at those moments when,

sitting benignly in the asylum grounds,

madness suddenly ceases to be a refuge

and becomes incarnate in the shattering

sky and all his surroundings in the pre-

sence of which reason, already struck

dumb, can only bow the head. Does the

madman find solace at such moments, as

his thoughts like cannonballs crash

through his brain, in the exquisite beauty

of the madhouse garden or of the neigh-

bouring hills beyond the terrible

chimney?'

Malcolm Lowry, Under the Volcano

Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · 29d

"Come amigo, throw away your mind," Dr. Vigil said behind him.

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Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · Sep 8

Slightly to the right and below them, below the gigantic red evening, whose reflection bled away in the deserted swimming pools scattered everywhere like so many mirages, lay the peace and sweetness of the town.

Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · Sep 4

The spectators laughed and cheered, though Hugh, really indistinguishable from a Mexican now, looked serious, even grim. He leaned back, holding on determinedly, with feet splayed, heels knocking the sweaty flanks. The charros galloped across the arena.

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Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · Sep 3

I have lived only nineteen years and all of them more or less badly. --letter to Conrad Aiken, 1929.

Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · Sep 2

And it seemed to me that until I knew her I had lived my whole life in darkness.

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Reposted by Malcolm Lowry

Harry Finch @harryfinch.bsky.social · Aug 31

'Look up at that niche in the wall over there on the house where Christ is still, suffering, who would help you if you asked him: you cannot ask him. Consider the agony of the roses. See, on the lawn Concepta's coffee beans, you used to say they were María's, drying in the sun. Do you know their sweet aroma any more? Regard: the plantains with their queer familiar blooms, once emblematic of life, now of an evil phallic death. You do not know how to love these things any longer.

All your love is the cantinas now: the feeble survival of a love of life now turned to poison, which only is not wholly poison, and poison has become your daily food-'

Malcolm Lowry, Under the Volcano

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Reposted by Malcolm Lowry

Harry Finch @harryfinch.bsky.social · Aug 13

Afraid to imagine what she's dreaming.

Tortoiseshell cat sleeps on a bed using a hardcover copy of Malcolm Lowry's Under the Volcano.

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Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · Aug 28

"...where is the sunrise? Where is the frost? Where are my seagulls? Where is my coffee? Where is love?"

Lowry to Markson, 1951.

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Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · Aug 28

Black geometry angled against dark skies.

Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · Aug 27

Nothing is altered, and in spite of God's mercy I am still alone.

(Watercolor of Lowry by Arturo Espinosa, May 15, 2012)

Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · Aug 26

...the old bastard would merely grin...

1979 letter from Markson discussing Lowry

Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · Aug 25

[D]eliver me from this dreadful tyranny of self. I have sunk low. Let me sink lower still that I may know the truth.

Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · Aug 24

Round and round we swung rhythmically, moving our bodies now in quick little nervous vibrations, now in long, sweeping drags.

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Reposted by Malcolm Lowry

Patch Zircher @patrickzircher.bsky.social · Aug 18

There are accounts dedicated to great 20th century writers Paul Bowles and Malcolm Lowry.
I love that people dedicate themselves to a particular writer in this way.

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Malcolm Lowry @malcolmlowry.bsky.social · Aug 23

Editor's note: I appreciate that. It takes a quiet type of courage ;)