That must be why you haven’t been able to write. But we hope to God that soon you’ll write to us, or that you’ll return home soon. We know that they’re bringing those that were in Europe over here so that they can go home. So, God willing, we’ll see each other again soon….
The 14th of last month I sent 15 pesos to my Uncle Fernando, I sent him 5 personally but it’s just that I haven’t written to him yet to tell him. Mom and I have a lot of work to do, me with the kid and Mom with her chickens she has 40 chicks 3 hens and 1 rooster and in her garden that she waters every morning and evening….I think that this is all for now, greetings from the whole family and from my mother and the kid. Your sister that doesn’t forget you, and that hopes to God that you return soon.
BENEDICTA M. MAGAÑA
JULY 6
1847
The glorious 4th is over! We had a splendid ball at night. The room was crowded. Isidora was there Great attention paid her by all but me I did not even speak to her. I had taken a very active part in the ball and worked hard, but I felt mortified and disappointed that I could not dance!
LIEUTENANT JOHN MCHENRY HOLLINGSWORTH
1928
Dr. Moland went over to me. I said: “It’s got away from us, hasn’t it—and gone much farther than you expected.” He said: “Yes, it has—and I can’t quite understand it.”
Anyhow, it’s in damned bad shape.
Miss Christie applied the radium and I went to sleep on it for an hour and a half.
CHARLES LUMMIS
JULY 7
1870
Blakely broke down the dam, placing a log across the side ditch: I with my walking stick removed the log to let the ditch free. When he attempted to stop me, I told him I would break the hand that touched it. He did it and I struck his hand as hard as I could. He then pushed me into the Zanja and drew his pistol to fire on me: Marcos came up and ordered him to put up his pistol or he would fire on him….he finally put up his pistol and after some words withdrew. I ordered the men to replace the dam and continue watering.
HENRY DALTON
1902
Signed a petition or protest against putting “mezcla” on the edge of the sidewalk in place of the wood that is there now. It is too expensive and there is no need for such expense at the present time.
DON JUAN BAUTISTA BANDINI
1918
After more or less delay, I decided to go out to my uncle’s dairy for the summer, and there I am now—and have been for almost a week. Something tells me I shan’t read or write much this summer, although I did compose one…on the milk route. My day’s schedule runs something as follows: 3:30 a.m. get up; 4:00 a.m., milk; 5:00 a.m., bottle milk; 6:00 a.m., deliver milk; 8:00 a.m., eat breakfast; 8:30 a.m., wash bottles; 10:00 a.m., clean milking shed; 10:30 a.m., clean cow yard; 12:00, eat dinner; 12:00 to 3:00 p.m., do miscellaneous jobs and sleep; 3:00 p.m., milk; 4:30, bottle milk; 5:15, deliver milk; 7:30, eat supper; 8:30, go to bed. Now I know why Burns was a poor farmer. The only way I can keep from becoming utterly bovine is to recite poetry and compose…while I am working. I am getting some great material for the latter. I am also collecting material for a sonnet-sequence on hog raising.
YVOR WINTERS
1950
What matters is that I should work, constantly, every instant. There is so endlessly much to do. For instance:
The novel. Get on with it—never mind how, as long as I make a draft.
This reviewing for Tomorrow. Chose a book [he chose Ray Bradbury’s first novel, The Martian Chronicles]. Start thinking what you’ll say about it.
CHRISTOPHER ISHERWOOD
JULY 8
1940
We have moved into a rather magnificent roomy house in a hilly landscape strikingly similar to Tuscany. I have what I wanted—the light; the always refreshing dry warmth; the spaciousness compared with Princeton; the holm oak, eucalyptus, cedar, and palm vegetation; the walks by the ocean which we can reach by car in a few minutes. There are some good friends here, first of all the Walters and Franks, besides our two eldest children, and life might be enjoyable were it not that our spirits are too oppressed for pleasure—and for work also, as I discovered after some initial attempts.
THOMAS MANN
1942
Incidentally, I’m going out with [Japanese characters] now. He’s a swell fellow. We go to these dances that they give every Thursdays and Saturdays. I heard that you’re not getting along too bad in L.A. either. Come, come, Molly, out with it! Who is it this time?
…I’ll be saying “goodbye” now, til we meet again.
SANDIE SAITO
1974
“California dreaming is becoming a reality,” is a line from a Mamas and the Papas song of a few years ago, but what a dreadful surreal reality it is: foglike and dangerous, with the subtle and terrible manifestations of evil rising up like rocks in the gloom. I wish I was somewhere else. Disneyland, maybe? The last sane place here? Forever to take Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride and never get off?
PHILIP K. DICK
2007
It’s official; in a year of lasts I declare this to be my very last 4th of July in la ciudad de South Gate. My first was in 1948 so I guess it is about time….In fact, the “new” Latin Gate looks quite a bit like the old “Anglo” Gate. The Mexi-Gaters take pride in ownership and my dear Annetta Avenue is be-lawned and nicely painted. So, on those rare occasions when I “inte-Gate” I don’t feel too foreign or on guard….
In 1960 I personally threw about fifty cherry bombs into the Pacific Ocean when the family rented a beach cottage at Surfside. Mostly, we celebrated by standing on the Whitneys’ front lawn as the impressive pyrotechnic show took place at the South Gate Park or guzzled precious beer from Gracie’s liquor and smoked up Tareytons in the Knowltons’ back yard as a Red Devil “lawn party” was torched up using neighborhood safety techniques comprised of a galvanized trash can lid and a garden hose….
Now in 2007 as I approach a terrible birthday with a zero on the end I crave only peace and quiet tempered by sips of red wine and Dodger heroics crooned over by the great Vinny. Such is not possible in my home surrounded by three separate construction projects (worked on all day on the 4th) and the local miscreants who amuse themselves in the wee hours by disrupting the neighborhood with M-180 blasts in one of the nearby concrete ravines….
This is the new Los Angeles and the Raider nation mentality for which it stands. As for me, I have had enough and will begin my search for that remote lighthouse with a garden in the coming months.
GLEN CREASON
JULY 9
1847
This evening I took a walk through the Gardens and Vineyards of Pueblo. Pueblo de Los Angeles or City of the Angels is situated near latitude 33 degrees N. a few miles from the Coast. It contains a population of about 5000—chiefly Mexicans and Indians. There are but few foreigners at this place. It contains about 1000 buildings, which are small and otherwise inferior, the walls of which are generally constructed of adobes (sun dried brick).
HENRY STANDAGE
1939
Took Billy to a Dr’s to deliver a package of excrement.
CHARLES BRACKETT
1976
When I think about last night (note—Mitch and I drove up to the observatory and got stoned to experience the Laserium), I am just so impressed. I really feel I experienced more than just a light show. It was so in tune with the images I felt they carried me to new extremes. It’s funny how things can change so quickly….For the most part, I’ve given up the idea of renouncing the automobile while I’m in L.A. The entire lifestyle is centered around its use and in order to enjoy L.A. it’s necessary to utilize the medium of the city. Namely, the car.
AARON PALEY
JULY 10
1847
Today the Spaniards commenced a bull f
ight. Last night we lay on our arms, cannons loaded &c. on account of some rumours afloat. The Col. and others were invited to a ball at this festival and it was rumored that the Spaniards had taken this as the best opportunity to retake Pueblo….
In the public square they had erected or made a large corral (or vast arena) in the form of an amphitheater, which is circumscribed by a post and rail fence around the exterior of which are successive circular seats rising above one another, to the height of twenty or thirty feet and of sufficient extent to accommodate many people. Timely notice having been given by preparing during the past week has caused a universal attendance at this scene of cruelty savoring so strongly of barbarity, cruelty and indolence. General Peko the late commander in this war, and all the principal officers in the Spanish service are here, together with the Priests, mingled with these semi-barbarians. The gen himself going in on horseback several times and fighting the bull with a short spear. Several bulls fought during the day; one horse gored by the bulls.
HENRY STANDAGE
1933
Spent all afternoon with [José] Rodriguez, first at the station KFI and then for light supper at his place. There is a possibility of a national hook-up for the Saturday night broadcast. Watch the Sat. papers carefully. I will be asked to talk for four minutes! The only trouble [is] that it will come in after midnight Boston time. Buy the N.Y. Times on Sat. and look up whether their stations carry this broadcast.
NICOLAS SLONIMSKY
1951
A writer discloses himself on a single page, sometimes in a single paragraph.
RAYMOND CHANDLER
1976
I picked up Gisele at her house in Woodland Hills at the end of the world.
AARON PALEY
JULY 11
1847
Bull fighting again commenced today in good earnest. Quite dangerous to be in town. Some horses gored by the bulls in the combat. 2 men considerably hurt and Cap. Davis’ little boy thrown about 20 feet by a bull although not much hurt. The bull broke out of the enclosures and fight continued till late in the evening. Gen Peko took quite an active part today. He was very richly attired as was also many others.
HENRY STANDAGE
1852
There was a “grand” celebration here on the Fourth, on Sunday. Mr. Hayes did not join in it. He heard the speeches, but did not go out to the dinner. There was a speech in English, and one in Spanish. They were to have had a procession through the town, but this turned out to be a few men on horseback, racing through the streets, nearly all drunk. The dinner was at a vineyard about a mile from town; I heard it was a very good dinner, but they were there only a short time, returning to town in the same style they left it, and spending the afternoon in firing cannon, drinking, and riding around on horseback.
EMILY HAYES
1961
I have too long put off sending you a message about Newsday. As a newspaper, it is beautifully affirmative about life. It is sweet, keen, strong and quiveringly alive. It is in terrific contrast to the Los Angeles Times. Sometimes when I ask myself, “What in the hell is wrong with this paper?,” I find myself answering, “Somehow it seems to try to love people and life and can’t quite make it.”
CARL SANDBURG
JULY 12
1938
This finds me like stout Cortez, gazing on the Pacific and about, in all human probability (which is not by any means certainty, since the picture industry is strictly sub-human), to prepare the life of Madame Curie for the screen. Which should be rather an interesting job, if only the sub-humans will leave one reasonably in peace—a most unlikely contingency, alas.
ALDOUS HUXLEY, to T. S. Eliot
1956
I just can’t afford to live here. There’s nothing for me to write about. To write about a place you have to love it or hate it or do both by turns, which is usually the way you love a woman. But a sense of vacuity and boredom—that is fatal.
I send you large amounts of love and I know damn well I sound like a bitter and disappointed man. I guess I am at that. I was the first writer to write about Southern California at all realistically, as the UCLA librarian [Lawrence Clark Powell] admitted when asking [successfully] for my original manuscripts for the Special Collections of their library. Now half the writers in the country piddle around in the smog. With lots and lots of love,
RAYMOND CHANDLER, to a friend
2005
Oh, why did I leave? And was it right to come back here, a Califas, to come home? Is this home?
SUSANA CHÁVEZ-SILVERMAN
JULY 13
1922
You know how I crave sunshine. And it does not seem to enervate me. I think I felt better here than in most places,—certainly than I felt in New York. And when I left there in 1919 I was rather run down. Out here I picked up not a little. As for being through at 50,—well, words won’t help to counteract that save words in book form.
THEODORE DREISER
1937
The film was to be shown at the Los Angeles Philharmonic Auditorium [just across Fifth Street from] Pershing Square, gardens where the bums clustered in the twilight under subtropical boscage….Outside the hall neon lights shone: HEMINGWAY AUTHOR—SPANISH EARTH.
ANTHONY POWELL
1937
Last night I went to see the Joris Ivens film,—Spanish Earth, at the Philharmonic. Some of it is…very vivid. The music was annoying,—it kept drowning out the soundtrack. An immense crowd. Ernest Hemingway spoke,—or rather read a paper. Very large fellow,—lame. Stood before the stand with his feet spread far apart. He got them together, once, but then he turned…so they spread apart again. After finishing the paper he turned abruptly and walked off stage. Curious how many faces you come to recognize at these meetings,—gets to be a family affair almost.
CAREY MCWILLIAMS
JULY 14
1935
it’s never cold so it’s never hot so it’s full with a great and little emptiness—the emptiness of sick people…BUT 1 miraculous ocean!!!
E. E. CUMMINGS, to Ezra Pound
1949
There is no auditing at the UCLA summer session—I went four days until I was ejected—The classes (with one exception: Meyerhoff’s Philosophy 21) promised to be mediocre, anyway—
I now have a social security card and a job as a file clerk at Republic Indemnity Co. of America—Bob’s office—at $125 a month, five days a week, beginning Monday—
I am reading The Decline of the West.
SUSAN SONTAG
JULY 15
1926
Do you know that boy I raved to you about, Gary Cooper? Well I raved so much about him to Mr. Goldwyn, Mrs. Goldwyn, Frances Marion and our casting agent—and in fact to anyone who would listen to me—that Mr. Goldwyn finally wired to camp and asked our manager to sign him up under a five year contract. I was happy that he did this. Of course, this only makes the rift between us wider because he wouldn’t have a thought for me since he is now on the road to bigger things, but I am happy anyway and I shall always cherish the thought that I helped him.
VALERIA BELLETTI
1940
I finished the book three days ago and am started on the typing. It is a pleasant book, in a quiet, unimportant way, and I do hope we at least get some advance royalties on it, as we need the money.
It is steadily hot now, with delightful nights. We eat in the patio quite a lot.
The country, or our hills rather, are turning a soft coppery brown, very beautiful. In the valley the apricot pickers are living in tents under the trees.
M.F.K. FISHER
JULY 16
1847
At 3 p.m. Cap Smith…mustered us out of service….3 cheers were given, and many left with the animals they had purchased for a camping ground 3 miles up the San Pedro River.
HENRY STA
NDAGE
1891
Conversed concerning the appropriation of water in the San Gabriel Canyon for purposes of power.
HENRY O’MELVENY
1938
At the studio this morning, getting only about three pages before Billy tore off to the races.
CHARLES BRACKETT
JULY 17
1958
Forgive the haste of this meager note, but I am dictating this as I run down Ventura Boulevard with my secretary right behind me.
She is the Olympic champion in the two-mile cross-country event, and so is in better form than I. In fact, I expect her to overtake me within the next half mile, at which point she will be dictating to me.
Dear Los Angeles Page 20
