This is a photograph of the young poet Leonard Cohen taken sometime in the early sixties outside his house on the Greek Island of Hydra. I have no idea how I got it, only a vague memory that it was a gift from someone I loved, a very long time ago in Canada. As you can see from the negative markings it’s original, some kind of print I suppose? It’s one of the few treasured belongings I brought over when I moved from Toronto to London and it now hangs above my desk in my writing shed. I thought you might like to see it. Maybe you know what he’s thinking?
According to legend he bought the house at the age of 27 for $1500 with an inheritance from his grandmother. It had no plumbing or electricity at time, a shack on a rock basically. He lived there for seven years and it was there that he met and fell in love with Marianne Ihlen (of the famous song) who was living alone with her six-month-old son, having recently been abandoned by her husband. The little house is still there and largely unchanged. It’s now owned by Cohen’s children (including Marianne’s baby, Axel) who sometimes visit. Hydra is a magical and mysterious little island, if you ever get a chance you should go there.
There are many stories about Cohen’s time there and the many writers and musicians who washed up on the island during those years. Entire books have been written; I won’t bore you with the trivia, you can look it up if you want to. Instead, on this cold November morning, I thought I’d just offer you a glimpse of the picture because it makes me feel warm. A little reverie of lemon and olive trees, hand-rolled cigarettes and the pleasure sitting on grass, barefoot, thinking about something or nothing. I look at it every day and everyday it slips me into daydream.
Tenderness- we could use more of it right now- thanks Leah
I warmly remember Leonard Cohen hanging out at Beauty's in Montreal in the 1980s, chatting up McGill co-eds.