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malcolmlowry.bsky.social
Novelist. Short-story writer. Poet. Alcoholic. Eridanus
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@malcolmlowry.bsky.social andrelbn.wordpress.com/2020/05/10/j...

submitted 1 day ago • 0 comments

Editor's note: Checking out the Bluecoat Lowry page, and while I have seen this Lowry picture no less than a 1000 times, it's only the first time that I notice a ship in front of his face! Margerie and Malcolm were always taking trick shots with their camera. So it's not that surprising to see this.

submitted 3 days ago • 1 comment

How merrily Mexico laughed away its tragic history, the past, the underlying death!

submitted 7 days ago • 0 comments

I began to feel sorry for myself, and rather drunk.

submitted 7 days ago • 0 comments

A rabbit paused, considered, vanished.

submitted 10 days ago • 0 comments

I was thinking only today that it's a shame the Penguin edition of UTV no longer includes Lowry's amazing letter defending his work against a great many editor-suggested changes!

submitted 13 days ago • 0 comments

Its quality is too rare to be successful. --Unknown editor rejecting Malcolm Lowry's classic Under the Volcano.

submitted 13 days ago • 0 comments

When they smashed into the hurricane the jaguars moaned in terror like frightened children. youtu.be/wma61_wfHqg?...

submitted 14 days ago • 0 comments

I try to learn astronomy from Margie and I am getting along slowly. But the little I have absorbed so far has very much enriched my work.

submitted 18 days ago • 0 comments

"Frankly I think I have no gift for writing. I started by being a plagiarist..."

submitted 19 days ago • 0 comments

I am not I.

submitted 24 days ago • 0 comments

Dear old bird, Have now reached condition of amnesia, breakdown, heartbreak, consumption, cholera, alcoholic poisoning, & God will not like to know what else if he has to which is damned doubtful. --Excerpt from letter to Aiken. Jan 38. Likely from within a Mexican jail.

submitted 25 days ago • 1 comment

...we have some money, not a great deal, enough for bottles but not enough for socks...

submitted 27 days ago • 0 comments

My god, how does one survive it, if indeed one does survive it. Why are there not glass windows in memory of all the authors...

submitted 28 days ago • 0 comments

[T]he Consul, with scarce a tremor now, found a pair of dark glasses and put them on.

submitted 31 days ago • 0 comments

[A]s if fate had fixed his age at some unidentifiable point in the past, when his persistent objective self, perhaps weary of standing askance and watching his downfall, had at last withdrawn from him altogether, like a ship secretly leaving the harbor at night.

submitted 31 days ago • 0 comments

"Lear of the Sierras, dying by the glass in the Brown Derby." --Lowry describing himself in a letter to Conrad Aiken

submitted 31 days ago • 1 comment

Pacific sunset tonight from the studio desk. I was told Malcolm Lowry insisted on a room with a bay view. While Lowry didn’t die at The Sylvia, he choked on his vomit at 47 in Ripe, England; it’s easy to sense his ghost stumbling up the marble stairs at closing time.

submitted 33 days ago • 3 comments

Colin Dilnot's two online projects focused on Lowry's early life and work (i.e. Ultramarine) as well as Lowry's personal library. guttedarcades.blogspot.com malcolmlowryslibrary.blogspot.com

submitted 32 days ago • 0 comments

Draft page of In Ballast to the White Sea.

submitted 32 days ago • 0 comments

Lowry describing to his editor on what his yet to be published novel (Under the Volcano) is truly about.

submitted 38 days ago • 1 comment

1) The Consul stared back at the black words on the sign without moving. You like this garden? Why is it yours? We evict those who destroy! Simple words, simple and terrible words, words which one took to the very bottom of one’s being, words which,

submitted 39 days ago • 0 comments

2) perhaps a final judgment on one, were nevertheless unproductive of any emotion whatsoever, unless a kind of colourless cold, a white agony, an agony chill as that iced mescal drunk in the Hotel Canada on the morning of Yvonne’s departure.

submitted 39 days ago • 0 comments

And this is how I sometimes think of myself, as a great explorer who has discovered some extraordinary land from which he can never return to give his knowledge to the world: but the name of this land is hell.

submitted 41 days ago • 0 comments

Thirty-five Mescals in Cuatla www.babelmatrix.org/works/en/Low...

submitted 42 days ago • 0 comments

I had now overstayed my leave by, I think, not more than a few days. I cannot, however swear to this.

submitted 42 days ago • 0 comments

...a curiosity, a fragment of fragments, a distillation of the mind- and work-wrecking ferocity of addiction... - Malcolm Lowry's La Mordida wp.me/p3g9wT-6ZL

submitted 99 days ago • 0 comments

1) "What for you lie?" the Chief of Rostrums repeated in a glowering voice. "You say your name is Black. No es Black." He shoved him backwards toward the door. "You say you are a wrider."

submitted 44 days ago • 0 comments

2) He shoved him again. "You no are a wrider." He pushed the Consul more violently, but the Consul stood his ground. "You are no a de wrider, you are de espider, and we shoota de espiders in Méjico."

submitted 44 days ago • 0 comments

www.theguardian.com/books/2015/j...

submitted 44 days ago • 1 comment

Margerie "in front of Historic Inn where American Revolution was plotted, Fredricksburg, Virginia." February 1947. Courtesy of UBC Library, Special Books and Collections. BC-1614-904

submitted 45 days ago • 0 comments

It was as if they were standing on a lofty golf tee somewhere. High up, an eagle drive downward in one...and on that other side what strange fairways could be contrived, crossed by lone railway linesover the hills and far away, like youth itself, like life itself...to the Farolito, the 19th hole.

submitted 45 days ago • 0 comments

And when they slowed down, the fallen leaves in the forest seemed to make even the ground glow and burn with light. Photos courtesy of UBC Library, Special Books and Collections.

submitted 46 days ago • 0 comments

Savannah, GA. 1947. Courtesy of UBC Library, Rare Books and Collections. (BC-1614-023)

submitted 47 days ago • 0 comments

Niagara-on-the-Lake, March 1947. Courtesy of UBC Library, Special Collections and Rare Books.

submitted 48 days ago • 0 comments

"Expelled at gunpoint!" Arriving in LA after being deported from Mexico. May 1946. Courtesy of UBC Library, Rare Books and Collections.

submitted 48 days ago • 1 comment

Lowry on the lawn of the Parliament buildings, Victoria, BC. Summer 1946. Courtesy of UBC Library, Rare Books and Collections. BC-1614-846

submitted 49 days ago • 0 comments

God, how pointless and empty the world is! Days filled with cheap and tarnished moments succeed each other, restless and haunted nights follow in bitter routine: the sun shines without brightness, and the moon rises without light.

submitted 49 days ago • 0 comments

I wake to a darkness in which I must follow myself endlessly, hating the I who so eternally pursues and confronts me. If we could rise from our misery, seek each other once more, and find again the solace of each other's lips and eyes.

submitted 52 days ago • 0 comments

Lowry once wrote that he and his wife should be known as "Alcoholics Synonymous".

submitted 53 days ago • 0 comments

June, too soon; July, stand by; August, you must; September, remember; October, all over. --Mariner's proverb

submitted 53 days ago • 0 comments

Day 2. Favourite book by your favourite writer… Under the Volcano — Malcolm Lowry There are no favourites here, but that book is why Pariah Press exists, fundamentally. Could’ve picked owt by Lispector, Faulkner, Murdoch, Pinter, Beckett, Hardy, Green, Marlowe… #booksky #bookchallenge

submitted 56 days ago • 1 comment

[T]here is something about the destiny of the creation of the book that seems to tell me it just might go on selling a very long time.

submitted 56 days ago • 0 comments