Bunuel_Luis_My_Last_Breath

AmericaI35"Thalberg wants you to go see the Lily Damita rushes," he toldme one day. "He wants to know if she has an accent in Spanish.""I'm not here as a Spaniard," I replied. "I'm here as a Frenchman.And what's more, you go tell Thalberg that I don't waste my timelistening to women who sleep around!"Clearly, my time had come. I went to the studios the next dayand tendered my resignation. MGM graciously wrote me an elegantletter in which they assured me that they would remember mysojourn in Hollywood for a long time. Today, when I think backover this period in my life-the smells of spring in Laurel Canyon,the Italian restaurant where we drank wine camouflaged in coffeecups, the cops who once stopped my car because they thought I wastransporting liquor and then escorted me to my door because I waslost, my friends Frank Davis and Kilpatrick-when I remember thatstrange way of life, the California heat, the American naivete, I stillhave the same good, warm feelings as I did then.My only real regret was that I never got to the Polynesian islands,which at the time were my idea of El Dorado. I'd always meant togo, but something always came up to prevent it. Once I had to putoff the trip because I fell in love (platonically, as usual) with a friendof Lya Lys's; another time, Breton had done my astrological chartand announced that I would die either from a mixup in medicinesor in some distant sea. So instead I took the train back to New York,where I spent ten superb days~it was the heyday of the speakeasybeforeleaving on the Lafayette for France.There were several French actors returning to Europe on the sameship, as well as an English businessman with the curious name ofMr. Uncle, who ran a hat factory in Mexico City and who was kindenough to serve as my interpreter. Altogether, we were a livelygroup, given the fact that we used to convene every morning ateleven in the bar. Happily, my surrealist affinities were still strongenough, even after all that time in Los Angeles, to provoke a minorscandal on shipboard. One evening, during a party in the grandballroom to celebrate the captain's birthday, the orchestra began to