Bunuel_Luis_My_Last_Breath

miss the premiere of the film that Aragon and Man Ray had alreadyspoken of so highly.The opening of Un Chien andalou took place at the Ursulines,and was attended by the tout-Paris~some aristocrats, a sprinklingof well-established artists (among them Picasso, Le Corbusier, Coctau,Christian Berard, and the composer Georges Auric), and thesurrealist group in toto. I was a nervous wreck. In fact, I hid behindthe screen with the record player, alternating Argentinian tangoswith Tristan und Isoide. Before the show, I'd put some stones in'mypocket to throw at the audience in case of disaster, remembering thata short time before, the surrealists had hissed Germaine Dulac's LaCoquiiie et Ie clergyman, based on a script by Antonin Artaud, whichI'd rather liked. I expected the worst; but, happily, the stones weren'tnecessary. After the film ended, I listened to the prolonged applauseand dropped my projectiles discreetly, one by one, on the floor behindthe screen.My entry into the surrealist group took place very naturally. Iwas simply admitted to the daily meetings at the Cyrano or at AndreBreton's at 42, me Fontaine. The Cyrano was an authentic Pigallecafe, frequented by the working class, prostitutes, and pimps. Peopledrank Pernod, or aperitifs like /won-beer with a hint of grenadine(Yves Tanguy's favorite; he'd swallow one, then a second, and bythe third he had to hold his nose!).The daily gathering was very much like a Spanish pefia. We readand discussed certain articles, talked about the surrealist journal,debated any critical action we felt might be needed, letters to bewritten, demonstrations attended. When we discussed confidentialissues, we met in Breton's studio, which was close by. I rememberone amusing misunderstanding that arose because, since I was usuallyone of the last to arrive, I shook hands only with those people nearestme, then waved to Breton, who was always too far away to reach."Does Buiiuel have something against me?" he asked one day, veryout of sons. Finally, someone explained that I hated the Frenchcustom of shaking hands all around every time anyone went any-