'It is this silence that frightens me - the silence-'
The Consul read this sentence over and over again, the same sentence, the same letter, all of the letters vain as those arriving on shipboard in port for one lost at sea, because he found some difficuly in focusing, the words kept blurring and dissembling, hisown name starting out at him : but the mescal had brought him in touch with his situation again to the extent that he did not now need to comprehend any meaning in the words beyond their abject confirmation of his own lostness, his own fruitless selfish ruin, now perhaps finally self-imposed, his brain, before this cruelly disregarded evidence of what heartbreak he had caused her, at an agonized standstill.
'It is this silence that frightens me'
UTV 346
*Malcolm Lowry turned 100 yesterday.
2 comments:
A mescal in his health is in order then, no?
Long overdue and gravly indebted.
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