Bunuel_Luis_My_Last_Breath

Paris (1925-1929;) 83I'd never seen anything quite like this before, not even in Paris. Laterthat evening, when we arrived at the entrance to the Salle Wagram,the police had already cordoned off the area and were trying to keepback the hordes of rowdy voyeurs. At one point, a naked womanarrived on the shoulders of a student dressed as an Arab sheik. (Hishead served as her fig leaf.) The crowd went wild as she entered thehall; I was dumbfounded. What kind ofa mad world had I stumbledinto?The door was guarded by the strongest students from each atelier;but when we walked up the steps and held out our gorgeous tickets,they refused to let us in."Someone's pulled a fast one on you!" was all they said.De Creeft was so outraged and made such a fuss that they finallyadmitted him and his wife, but Vicens, the Chilean, and I had nosuch luck. The bouncers were all for letting the Chilean's date goin, and when she refused they drew a large cross in wax on the backof her coat.And so I never did get to join the gaudiest orgy in the world,and now the orgy itself seems to be a dying art. Rumors flew aboutthe scandalous carryings-on inside the Salle Wagram; apparently allthe professors left at midnight, whereupon the action really got underway. Those who survived wound up at five in the morning thoroughlydrunk and frolicking in the fountains at the place de laConcorde.(A couple of weeks later, I ran into my counterfeiter, who'dmanaged to acquire a nice case of the clap. He had such difficultywalking that he was using a cane, a vengeance I felt it would besuperfluous to add to.)In those days, the Closerie des Lilas was still only a cafe. I usedto go there frequently, as well as to the Bal Bullier next door. Wealways went in disguise. I remember dressing up one night as a nun,in an elaborate and wholly authentic costume. I even put on falseeyelashes and lipstick. As we were walking down the boulevardMontparnasse, with Juan Vicens dressed as a monk, we saw two