Every now and then, there comes a time to make a pilgrimage to a sanctuary, a place of retreat where one can let oneself float unhindered in a sanative state. Now -- yes, right now -- is one of those times, and among my most beloved wellsprings of renewal and re-invigoration is "My Last Sigh" by Luis Buñuel, the most reverie-like of all directorial memoirs. (I think of it as my Buñuelian bible, and would never want to live without it.) Buñuel liked to have his reveries in bars, stimulated by a little alcohol (I reprinted the recipe for the Buñuel martini some time ago), but similar conditions can also be enjoyed with the aid of books -- or movies.
And so, a few (more) inspirational passages from "My Last Sigh":
... [The] proliferation of gutter words in the work of modern writers disgusts me. They use them gratuitously, in a pretense of liberalism which is no more than a pathetic travesty of liberty....* * *
Foreshadowing "Fight Club": ... I've seen only one pornographic movie in my life -- provocatively called "Sister Vaseline." I remember a nun in a convent garden being f---ed by the gardener, who was being sodomized by a monk, until finally all three merged into one figure. I can still see the nun's black cotton stockings which ended just above the knee. René Char and I once plotted to sneak into a children's movie matinee, tie up the projectionist, and show "Sister Vaseline" to the young audience. O tempora! O mores!
* * *
I've often wondered why Catholicism has such a horror of sexuality. To be sure, there are countless theological, historical, and moral reasons; but it seems to me that in a rigidly hierarchical society, sex -- which respects no barriers and obeys no laws -- can at any moment become an agent of chaos. I suppose that's why some Church Fathers, Saint Thomas Aquinas among them, were so severe in their dealings with the disturbing aspects of the flesh. Saint Thomas went so far as to affirm that the sexual act, even between husband and wife, was a venial sin, since it implied mental lust. (And lust, of course, is by definition evil.) Desire and pleasure may be necessary, since God created them, but any suspicion of concupiscence, any impure thought, must be ruthlessly tracked down and purged. After all, our purpose on this earth is first and foremost to give birth to more and more servants of God.
Ironically, this implacable prohibition inspired a feeling of sin which for me was positively voluptuous. And although I'm not sure why, I also have always felt a secret but constant link between the sexual act and death. I've tried to translate this inexplicable feeling into images, as in "Un Chien Andalou" when the man caresses the woman's bare breasts as his face slowly changes into a death mask. Surely the most powerful sexual repression of my youth reinforces this connection.
* * *
You have to begin to lose your memory, if only in bits and pieces, to realize that memory is what makes our lives. Life without memory is no life at all, just as intelligence without the possibility of expression is not really an intelligence. Our memory is our coherence, our reason, our feeling, even our action. Without it, we are nothing....
Our imagination, and our dreams, are forever invading our memories; and since we are all apt to believe in the reality of our fantasies, we end up transforming our lives into truths. Of course, fantasy and reality are equally personal, and equally felt, so their confusion is a matter of only relative importance.... I am the sum of my errors and doubts as well as my certainties.
Such a glorious individual.
Some of my favorite Bunuel quotes:
"If someone were to prove to me right this minute that God, in all his luminousness, exists, it wouldn't change a single aspect of my behaviour."
"Give me two hours a day of activity, and I'll take the other twenty-two in dreams."
I wish I had my Taschen book on him with me. It has some dandies.
"My Last Sigh" is one of my favorites, Jim. I don't know if you ever read it, but click here for a related piece by Jean-Claude Carrière.
Jim, hello again. Several questions...
Judging by your quotes, it sounds as if you're a fan of Bunuel almost more for his views of religion than for his films. Although my understanding is that--unlike much of the Church of What's Happenin' Now (if you'll pardon the pun) of Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins--Bunuel actually had some affection, both personally and in his works, for believers even if it was rather tempered by pity; and his films, when they applied the old/tired 'hypocrisy' charge, did so well across society, religious or not. Am I correct?
Having said all of this, I have yet to see my first Bunuel film. Which would you say is the best one to start with? It might help if you knew that the 'great director' I consider myself the biggest fan of, is Kubrick. If something Bunuel did played off of something Stanley portrayed in one of his films, perhaps that would be a good place for me to start.
And final question... I note the title of one of Bunuel's great films is The Discrete Charm of the Bourgeoisie. Just out of curiosity--I've always wanted to ask both you and Roger Ebert this--do you, as a film critic and American, really consider yourself non-bourgeois, as I understand the term? (Overly comfortably middle-class is how I define it.) You certainly seem to be doing well financially and socially as a writer... ;-)
Finally, for your time, here's something semi-related that you might find interesting, from an unlikely source.
Best (again),
STEVE LANZI
The old familiar
'Ebert fan/Medved defender'
Brandon and Flickhead: Thanks much for those additions! All the quotations I chose this time were from the front of the book, but there's so much more...
Steve: I can see how you might not understand the context if you've never seen one of Bunuel's films, which thrive on ambivalence. What he's talking about here is the thrill of the forbidden, and how the sexual repression of his Catholic upbringing made the idea of sex all the more exciting for him, because it was transgressive. After all, what is temptation but the lure of the forbidden? Bunuel might never have been a Surrealist if it weren't for Catholicism. You have to understand taboos before you understand the power of breaking them. There's a wonderful passage in "My Last Sigh" where he imagines a last-minute religious conversion on his deathbed just to shock and outrage all his friends.
If you want to introduce yourself to Bunuel, I think "Un Chien Andalou" (a short), "The Exterminating Angel" and "Discreet Charm" might be good places to start. Or, if you'd prefer some that are more explicitly about religion, there's "Nazarin," "Viridiana" and "Simon of the Desert."
As for the bourgeois question -- of course I'm an American bourgeois. (Not quite the same as the class in Bunuel's movie, which is something distinctively European.) I have a computer and I live in a solidly middle-class neighborhood north of the University of Washington with little 1940s houses (mostly first homes for young families, and retirees who've been here for a long time) and I get paid to write and think about movies and politics and popular culture! Who has time for those kinds of academic pursuits if they're not, in some way, members of the leisure class? (As far as income -- I'm not within several worldly realms of Roger Ebert OR Medved.) Am I materially "comfortable"? Sure, compared to most people in the world. In an irony that I'm sure Bunuel would appreciate, the destitute don't have much access to Luis Bunuel films these days -- including his great early films about poverty, "Los Olvidados" and "Land Without Bread." But even the bourgeoisie, like you and me, may have consciences -- and senses of humor.
P.S. Thanks for the libertas link -- but modern-day Evangelical Protestantism has little or nothing to do with the brand of Roman Catholicism in rural Spain in the early 20th century that shaped Bunuel!
Bunuel is probably my favorite director, and I've read My Last Sigh a few times, and have referenced it numerous other times for certain stories.
One of my favorite anecdotes comes from the documentary on the "A proposito de..." on the Criterion Discreet Charm DVD. If I remember correctly a friend describes arriving late to Bunuel's apartment for a dinner party, and finds him absolutely fuming. Don Luis takes the pot of paella he prepared for the meal, places it on the floor, and without a word, jumps with both feet into the pot. Never be late for a dinner appointment with an angry surrealist!
Jim, thanks for jogging the memory of My Last Sigh loose and allowing it to float to the surface. This book has been on my must-read list for a while, but I think now is the time. That last quote on memory literally gave me chills, and I suspect it's going to be with me for a good, long time. It's also time for me to start getting to the many Bunuel films I have yet to see. Thanks again for the reminder.