“A corpse will be transported by express!”
–Geoffrey Firmin
The Day of the Dead carries ominous implications. Malcolm Lowry’s masterpiece, Under the Volcano, stands as a timeless book to revisit–or discover. Lowry, born in 1909 and died in 1957, published two books while he was alive–Ultramarine (1933) and Under the Volcano (1947).
Under the Volcano transpires in one day–the Day of the Dead–on November 2, 1939. The book reveals the last day of alcoholic British consul Geoffrey Firmin’s life in Quauhnahuac, Mexico, during the Spanish Civil War. In 1984, John Huston adapted a film starring Albert Finney and Jacqueline Bisset based on the book. Under the Volcano originated as a short story.
The rest of Lowry’s books, Hear Us O Lord from Thy Dwelling Place, Lunar Caustic, Dark as the Grave Wherein My Friend is Laid and October Ferry to Gabriola were published posthumously. Under The Volcano was out of print before Lowry died. Now, the book is lauded as one of literature’s finest.
Under the Volcano begins with Firmin’s (the Consul) wife, Yvonne, returning to him after a year-long separation. The Consul’s alcoholism increased during that year as he felt isolated in a remote Mexican hotel under two volcanoes (Popocatepetl & Iztaccihuatl). His half-brother, Hugh, and longtime friend M. Laurelle act as sinister distractions to the Consul since they both had an affair with Yvonne. They follow her to Mexico even though Yvonne loves the Consul and wishes for him to get sober and start anew.
Lowry writes vivid descriptions of the idyllic Mexican landscape with emotive precision. It’s a sad book, and dark omens lace the story as the twelve chapters unfold. A ghost dog appears throughout the story as a melancholy symbol. Other recurring images include evil omens, cigarettes, Mescal, Christ, black clouds, volcanoes, film, betrayal, guitars, William Blackstone and bullfights. Lowry even writes musicians Eddie Lange and Django Reinhardt into the tale.
Towards the final hours of the story, Lowry sets up the last scene:
“Sunset. Eddies of green and orange birds scattered aloft with ever wider circlings like rings on water. Two little pigs disappeared into the dust at a gallop. A woman passed swiftly, balancing on her head, with the grace of a Rebecca, a small light bottle. Then, the Salon Ofelia at last behind them, there was no more dust. And their path became straight, leading on through the roar of water past the bathing place, where, reckless, a few late bathers lingered, toward the forest.
“Straight ahead, in the northeast, lay the volcanoes, the towering dark clouds behind them steadily mounting the heavens. The storm that had already dispatched its outriders, must have been traveling in a circle: the real onset was yet to come. Meantime the wind had dropped, and it was lighter again, though the sun had gone down at their back slightly to their left, in the southwest, where a red blaze fanned out into the sky over their heads…”
The reader follows three main characters through “Dia de los Muertos” right up to the moment when the fascist police accuse the Consul of a crime he did not commit. Ultimately, they kill him. The final line of the book chills the reader: “Somebody threw a dead dog after him down the ravine.”
Under the Volcano emits a heart-rending doom. It should be revisited every year on the Day of the Dead, like the grave of a loved one.
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