#gombrowicz

[neptunenocturne777]

a quick one before the maggots devour my body

it could be an ultimate farewell to my concubine, 

it could be a sketch of an average woman portrait

it could be an objection towards martial law

it does not matter, after all

penelope is away

comme ci, comme ça

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

“Monday. Me. Tuesday. Me. Wednesday. Me. Thursday. Me.”

[The opening of Gombrowicz’s Diary]

[Via “Alive On All Channels”]

[riprippling]

Minąłem dziś sobowtóra Witolda Gombrowicza. Ma się to szczęście..

[caarcas]

absurdo diario - el curioso incidente del profesor X. camino a pedir la mano de la señorita W.

[davidpatrickjohn]

“He was alien to me, he disgusted me! A dog, a horse, a chicken, even a maggot would have appealed to me more than this adult, worn man, with his life history written on his face—an adult hates adults! Nothing more disgusting for a man than another man—I mean, of course, elderly men with their life history written on their faces…An adult can only be bearable for another adult as a renunciation, when he renounces himself to incarnate something else—horror, virtue, the people, the fight…But a man who is nothing but a man-how ghastly!”

Gombrowicz, Pornografia, 1960

[jareckiworld]

Vladimiro Elvieri — Witold Gombrowicz. The Form and the Mystery (drypoint and sandpaper on plexiglass, 2021)

[sans-undertale-to-moj-szwagier]

Rip Witold Gombrowicz you would've loved Mindless Self Indulgence

[makingqueerhistory]

Witold Gombrowicz

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[haveyoureadthisbook-poll]

[rawelkmeat]

unused poster design for Iwona Księżniczka Burgunda (2023)

[davidhudson]

Witold Gombrowicz, August 4, 1904 – July 24, 1969.

[viecome]

Todos somos escritores. Witold Gombrowicz

Pensar que la literatura es una profesión es una inexactitud. Todos somos escritores. Hay personas que no han escrito toda su vida y, de golpe, hacen su obra maestra. Los otros son profesionales, que escriben cuatro libros al año y publican cosas horribles. Witold Gombrowicz

[intotheclash]

È possibile che nulla mai possa esser espresso realmente, restituito nel suo divenire anonimo, che nessuno sia mai capace di esprimere il balbettio dell’istante nascente? Come mai noi, nati dal caos, non possiamo mai accostarci ad esso, non facciamo in tempo a dargli un’occhiata che subito, sotto il nostro sguardo, nasce l’ordine…e la forma?

Witold Gombrowicz - Cosmo

[megkuna]

thinking of printing these two for the gombrowicz shrine

[xjmlm]

We say ‘forest’ but this word is made of the unknown, the unfamiliar, the unencompassed. The earth. Clods of dirt. Pebbles. On a clear day you rest among ordinary, everyday things that have been familiar to you since childhood, grass, bushes, a dog (or a cat), a chair, but that changes when you realize that every object is an enormous army, an inexhaustible swarm.

Witold Gombrowicz

Cosmos: A Novel

[jareckiworld]

Vladimiro Elvieri — Portrait of Witold Gombrowicz (drypoint, abrasive paper on plexiglass, 2022)