A letter by Luis Buñuel to Paramount Pictures. Any resemblance to real people is purely intentional.
TO: Ms. Alice Velotta, Secretariat, Paramount Pictures
SPAIN, ONCE RED has taken on a gray-yellow pallor.
I no longer view my presence here
As anything more than a heavy sack—
A boat filled with the hollow shavings of deadwood trees,
A set of outdated almanacs gathering aluminum-white dust.
So you will excuse my ready tone. Don’t believe them
When they turn my pride against me. I am not too good
For Los Angeles, knowing angels never
Forsook a degenerate.
Since my christening at the Urselines Theater when all of
Paris stood on its feet for some reels of celluloid
We scarcely agreed to show our own friends
I have been nurturing this spiritual connection
To America, its soil and people
So astonishingly unlike Spaniards.
A chief concern is what garments to pack.
And though it is generally assumed that my wife
Fills the trunks for the two of us and our young son, it is I:
For I prefer my valise so light I pour an hour and a half into
The care and handling of its contents.