Bunuel_Luis_My_Last_Breath

Saragossa 2 7portrait of my mother. Much later, during the Civil War, the chinawas lost, but years after the war ended, my sister-in-law came acrossone of the plates in an antiques store in Saragossa. She bought it andgave it to me. I still have it.My schooling began with the Corazonistas, the Brothers of theSacred Heart of Jesus, an order apparently more highly esteemedthan the Lazaristas. Most of the brothers were French; they taughtme to read in their own language as well as in Spanish. In fact, I canstill recite one of the exercises:0.2 va Ie volume deauQue rode ami ce ruisseuu?Dit un enfant a sa mire.Sur cette riuike si chkeD'o.2 nous fe voyons partirLe verrons-nous revenzr?*At the end of that first year, I entered the Jesuit Colegio delSalvador as a day student, and I remained there for seven years. (Theenormous building that housed the school is gone now and has beenreplaced by a bank.) Every day began at seven-thirty with Mass andended with evening prayers. The boarders were entitled to completeuniforms, but we day students only had the right to wear the schoolcap with its regulation stripe. The Jesuits felt that heating one roomwas quite sufficient, so my keenest memory of this period is of anumbing cold, a great many heavy scarves, and chilblains on ourears, fingers, and toes. True to tradition, their iron discipline tendedto make life even colder. At the merest infraction, a student wouldinstantly find himself on his knees behind his desk, or in the middleof the classroom, arms outstretched, under the stern eye of the proc-*Where does all the water go 1 That ripples in this stream so slow' 1 A child once askedhis mother 1 By this river that we love 1 We watch the water flowing past I But will we seeit flowing back'