Bunuel_Luis_My_Last_Breath

Pro and Con 231trator in Saragossa in charge of a cemetery which housed innumerablebodies lined up in wall niches. One morning in the 192os, whilesome of the alcoves were being emptied to make room for newcomers,Ernesto saw two skeletons~one of a nun still clothed in her habit,the other a gypsy with his staff-rumble out onto the floor and cometo rest in each other's arms.Strange as it may seem, I detest publicity and do everythingpossible to avoid it. Should you ask, as well you might, why I'mwriting this book, all I can say is that had I been alone, I'd neverhave done it. I've managed to live my life among multiple contradictionswithout ever trying to rationalize or resolve them; they'repart of me, and part of the fundamental ambiguity of all things,which I cherish.When it comes to the seven deadly sins, however, the only oneI find truly lethal is envy, a decidedly Spanish weakness, because itinevitably leads people to desire the deaths of others whose happinessmakes them miserable. (The other sins are strictly personal and don'treally harm anyone.) For example, imagine a multimillionaire in LosAngeles whose morning paper is delivered every day by a humblemailman. One fine day the mailman doesn't show up, and when themillionaire asks his butler why, the man replies that the mailmanwon ten thousand dollars in a lottery and has quit the profession.The millionaire is outraged at the inconvenience and begins to hatethe mailman, and finally to envy him, all because of a mere tenthousand dollars. . . .Finally, I don't like politics. The past forty years have destroyedany illusions I might have had about its efficacy. In fact, there's reallynothing to say at the sight of left-wing demonstrators marchingthrough the streets of Madrid, as they did one day a couple of yearsago, and chanting, "Contra Franco estabms me/or!"-we were betteroff against Franco!'