Dear Los Angeles
Page 38
BENJAMIN SILLIMAN
1942
There was an enormous blaze at Los Angeles station a week ago that probably claimed incredible numbers of Christmas packages, and we spent a few days worrying about what had become of the delicious fluid you had intended for us. But then, after we had already given up hope, the gigantic crate arrived—how much love went into the packaging, to say nothing of its contents—in good shape, and we were all the more glad for it. Accept our heartiest thanks. Last night we sampled the creme de cacao and found it quite excellent, worthy of the greatest tradition. Its consumption takes place in silence.
THEODOR ADORNO, to his parents
DECEMBER 22
1939
There are not many real Spaniards here, but large numbers of Mexicans. I have one Spaniard in my seminar—his father is a wine merchant, and Franco stole 1,000,000 bottles of sherry from him, so he has correct sentiments on Spain….
I have a great deal of work here, most of it too elementary to be interesting. [His wife] Peter has so much to do that she is worn out—arranging for John and Kate, driving the car (everything here is 20 miles off), and spending hours a day on our permits to stay in this country, to get which we have to go to Mexico. The red tape has driven us both to the edge of insanity.
They assure us that it will rain soon—hitherto we have had endless sunny days—2 days ago the temperature was 84. One gets to long for wet and cold….
Conrad is the joy of our lives—partly by his merits, partly because he doesn’t know there is a war. He is very intelligent—he knows endless poems and stories by heart, and has a vast vocabulary. We love him and he loves the cat and the cat loves her dinner. Love is not the reward of services rendered.
BERTRAND RUSSELL, to a friend
1949
Christopher Isherwood wrote me a superb letter about Sunset [Boulevard], with which I plan to combat Billy’s childlike resistance to retaking the questioning scene. Christopher points out, in highly literate English, why it’s wrong—that the detectives seem to have read the end of the script.
CHARLES BRACKETT
DECEMBER 23
1895
It has been a very sad day. Rather cloudy and cold. Nothing in particular.
DON JUAN BAUTISTA BANDINI
1931
I took the scenario down to the studio, where I was interviewed by the “Variety” correspondent, a decent fellow called Fred Stanley, and, having handed the story over to [Merian C.] Cooper, I met him an hour later at lunch in the restaurant. There was a little bit about a missionary which he didn’t think might get past the Will Hays office, but Cooper said it was the most powerful story of mine he had read.
I then went down to the animating room, where they are working on models of a prehistoric story [King Kong], the script of which I am going to write.
EDGAR WALLACE
DECEMBER 24
1932
Señor [Blasco] Ibañez [author of The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse] arrived in Los Angeles. We became his host. Of course he would wish to visit the studios? Not at all, but the Missions, ah, yes, the Missions! But whom in this Land of Celebrities did he wish to meet? Only two persons—“Carlos” (Charlie Chaplin) and Upton Sinclair! It is the same with all distinguished authors. Sometimes they may omit the name Chaplin, but never Sinclair.
ROB WAGNER
1993
Christmas Eve. Went to Pacific Bell in the morning to say hello and have breakfast with my co-workers.
HAZEL THORNTON
DECEMBER 25
1884
I have been here a month—the last week rainy—but it is a soft warm summery sort of drizzle, which is delicious to drive in, after you have been dried up in Colorado, for months.—As for roses—& the rest—well you can’t image it:—the people say there are “very few flowers just now” & then they proceed to idly snip off for you, your two hands full!—Los Angeles is just as rubbishy, barbaric, huddled, gay colored, as ever—the most un-American place in America—
—I am never tired, walking my horses up & down the streets, and gazing at the people.—I suppose they will begin to think I have something to sell presently!—or worse!
HELEN HUNT JACKSON, to Charles Dudley Warner
1941
A special edition of the Japanese-language newspaper came out saying Issei (first-generation Japanese) will turn in all shortwave radios and cameras to the police by 11:00 p.m., Monday. It was in last night’s English newspaper. The one at our house is a radio with both shortwave and normal listening, so we called the radio shop and had the shortwave portion removed….
Sewing instructor Mrs. M dropped by. She said, “For twelve years, I sewed only American things, but in the end, Americans are Americans, and we are Japanese. Since the war started, Americans ask me if everything is okay, but not one said Merry Christmas to me.”
AOKI HISA
DECEMBER 26
1929
This Saturday will finish up the 3rd official week here—plus 2 days—for Uncle Tom. We get paid the following Wednesday—and that’s a bright spot. It will be $3000 in the bank next week. Every now and then I look at that bank book—and at my return ticket.
STEPHEN VINCENT BENÉT, to his wife
1937
Don’t think that I am a “convert” or “revolutionist.” I am not a CP member. I have worked fairly closely with them locally because they seemed to be the only people doing any work….I have never joined the Party because I have known that I could not work satisfactorily within its requirements.
CAREY MCWILLIAMS, to Louis Adamic
DECEMBER 27
1967
Lack of preparation, direction and cooperation from the very beginning have made this album the most unreasonable project with which we have ever involved ourselves….
It all adds up to a lack of professionalism. The Grateful Dead is not one of the top acts in the business as yet. Their attitudes and their inability to take care of business when it’s time to do so would lead us to believe that they never will be truly important.
JOSEPH B. SMITH, to their manager
1998
For the first time since he was diagnosed, Frankie was acutely, excitedly and happily aware of Christmas. Like any normal child, he chatted incessantly about Santa, Rudolph, the Grinch and other seasonal characters. He sang carols and other holiday songs and eagerly helped decorate our Christmas tree….
I was pleasantly surprised when Uncle Joe said Aunt Hope was in fine spirits. She had even found the strength to go shopping for a Christmas tree. Without realizing it, I rejoiced that Aunt Hope would be with us for another Christmas….
The very next morning, in predawn darkness, Uncle Joe called to tell me Aunt Hope had suffered a diabetic seizure and cardiac arrest during the night….
…Frankie was the biggest surprise….He was curious, as any small child is when first facing the reality of death. He was full of questions, like where heaven is and whether Aunt Hope would ever return from living there with Jesus. But he was also caring.
…Even amid the sadness of family tragedy, I became more confident than ever that Frankie will continue to overcome his autism. Not just because he has family, therapists, teachers and classmates who support him, but because he has a special new angel watching over him—an angel named, so very aptly, Hope.
FRANK DEL OLMO
DECEMBER 28
1847
Lieut Davidson gave a party last night—I had been there but a few moments when I was ordered to the command of the guard by Com S—I went to the guard house and found that the officier of the guard had been placed under arrest for getting drunk and raising the devil generally—I had been there but a few moments when I heard a great noise in the street and was informed that Lieut V—was drunk and trying to break into a store I then received orders
from the officier of the day to arrest him—
I proceeded to do so, found him full of fight, knocked him down and had a general row with him—The Com came up in the midst of it and ordered me to take him to the guard house at the same time ordering him to be quiet—He behaved very badly and tried hard to throw the Sargent of the guard down—when he got half way to the guard house—he said if we would let him go he would walk—He then walked to the guard house very quietly but gave much trouble during the night being very noisy—He was sent to his quarters in the morning by the officier of the day but did not remain in them as he broke his arrest and got drunk again and was sent again to the guard house this morning and is there at present—
LIEUTENANT JOHN MCHENRY HOLLINGSWORTH
1930
The audience now is unlimited and eclectic. Radio brings to us one moment the swooning harmonies of Cesar Franck, and the next moment the frisky vulgarities of true jazz. Radio knows no boundary lines of taste. All music is “good music” in radio….
Thus the function of the broadcaster is to be completely and unreservedly open and ready for every musical expression—from the austerities of modal counterpoint to the whinings of boop-boop-a-doop. The broadcaster must regard each as equally important, because, sociologically and philosophically, they are equally important.
JOSÉ RODRIGUEZ
DECEMBER 29
1925
These last few weeks I seem to have gotten in with a regular “Greenwich Village” set of people and needless to say I have been having a wonderful time. Perhaps you wouldn’t approve of some of these people—you know how funny they dress—and how unconventional they are—but dog gone it—they are interesting and you talk about things that the ordinary run of men do not find interesting….you have to more or less overlook their moral characters. Most of these people are not married—just live together and they seem really happy.
VALERIA BELLETTI, to a friend
1941
During the morning hours, it rained on and off, and even the clear part of the sky was fairly dark. Husband went to clear up the school association office. Our house radio was inspected by the police and passed; the camera was put in police storage….Today I had a reason to visit Mr K.’s home, but in the streetcar and on the street, I was subjected to continuous unfriendly looks.
AOKI HISA
1949
Finished rereading the Joyce, Portrait—
Oh, the ecstasy of aloneness!—
SUSAN SONTAG
1986
I requested two songs from KROQ tonight: “Changes” by Bowie, “Ever Fallen in Love” by the Fine Young Cannibals. The first because I haven’t heard it in a while, and the second because they’ll probably play it anyway. I’m still waiting….I wish KROQ would play something I requested. It would give me a reason to go to bed. It’s after midnight….I feel as if I should put down a little more of what’s happening to my life. I’ve dropped out of school. Spiritually, I guess, it’s a big move. Possibly the first decision I’ve made entirely on my own.
CAROLYN KELLOGG
DECEMBER 30
1938
Signs of decay multiply. One eye is now useless. My teeth are growing thinner and hearing is impaired, and my feet are so tender that walking is a painful “process of falling,” as Dr. Holmes called it. But [what] can a man of seventy-eight expect but growing disability? The worst of it is I have no one to help me now, no one to share the daily burden of maintaining this house and garden. My daughters have leaned so long on Daddy that they regard me as an everlasting prop. I have tried to arrange matters so that they can carry on if I meet with an accident, but it is very hard to bring myself to it. Sorting papers and the use of my eyes in reading letters is now a wearisome business, and I do not feel able to have it done. Looking ahead is a dismal business now.
HAMLIN GARLAND
1941
This job here at the studio is not the end of things for me. It is a means.
ZORA NEALE HURSTON, to a friend
1968
If I hadn’t been ill I would have been there to pay my last affectionate respects to John [Steinbeck]. In addition to all the other reasons for my devotion to him, even when we didn’t see each other for long stretches of time, he played an important role in my life, both personal and professional. For one thing, he provided me with the opportunity for an accomplishment that heightened my reputation forever after [the screenplay for The Grapes of Wrath]. For another, in this same accomplishment he brought me nearer to Dorris [Bowdon, who played Rosasharn and became Johnson’s wife]. I can’t think of anybody else who did anywhere near as much for my life.
NUNNALLY JOHNSON, to Steinbeck’s widow
DECEMBER 31
1889
Dolly me la cielo. [Questionable Spanish for “Dolly lifts me to heaven.”]
CHARLES LUMMIS
1933
It is 11:30….
The radio grows louder and more maudlin. Here the fire burns bright. A. and I have just taken showers, and our hair is damp around the edges. Noni in a burning-colored dress looks cool. She is reading, and I see that her face is flushed. She and Dave were excited by the snatch of flood news. He sits by the radio. I think he is rather sleepy. He has black paint on his fingers from a drawing he made and burned, of a tree blowing and a little shepherd sitting under it in the falling leaves.
Now I will make the eggnog. I can’t find a recipe. I’ll heat milk, beat the eggs and sugar, add them, and stir in port and a little brandy. It may turn out—a kind of thin zabaglione, I suppose. I hope we’ll sleep untormented into 1934.
M.F.K. FISHER
1949
Today: Two Wright Houses (Aztec Period) And The Messiah afterwards at the Rhapsody.
A new year! But no crap on this occasion.
SUSAN SONTAG
1975
This is just to round off the year—a very poor diary year and a hard but slow work year….
Am now reading the fourth volume of Byron’s letters. I really cannot say why I keep on at them. I hardly remember anything I have read—any phrase or fact—but I somehow like to breathe in his ambiance. Particularly while I am shitting….
At the end of last year, I wrote about my great happiness with Don and my consistently poor standard of meditation. Both of these have continued throughout 1975. I ought to be more concerned about the meditation, I suppose; and yet I do keep at it and I ask Mother every day for more devotion and at least some sense of her presence. I do feel, I think, quite sincerely that she is my “refuge.” And I suppose this is good, since it is balanced by the quite other sort of “refuge” I find in Don. What I am trying to say is that it is doubtless easier to feel that God is the only refuge when you don’t have any human being to love and be loved by. But I do.
CHRISTOPHER ISHERWOOD
ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTORS
ACOSTA, OSCAR ZETA Chicano lawyer, activist, memoirist, novelist. Author of Autobiography of a Brown Buffalo and the un-squashable Revolt of the Cockroach People. Inspiration for the Samoan lawyer Dr. Gonzo in Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Also immortalized in Thompson’s Rolling Stone article about the Chicano movement, “Strange Rumblings in Aztlan.” Like Ambrose Bierce before him, disappeared into Mexico. Quoted from Oscar “Zeta” Acosta: The Uncollected Works, edited by Ilan Stavans (Houston: Arte Publico, 1996).
ADAMIC, LOUIS Pioneering immigrant author of Dynamite: The Story of Class Violence in America and Laughing in the Jungle. Lived for a time in a pilothouse at the mouth of San Pedro Bay. Quoted from Laughing in the Jungle: The Autobiography of an Immigrant in America (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1932).
ADORNO, THEODOR Refugee philosopher. Wrote The Psychological Technique of [L.A.-based preacher] Martin Luther Thomas’ Radio Addresses and most of Minima Moralia while exiled on the Westside. Quoted from L
etters to His Parents: 1939–1951 (Hoboken, N.J.: Wiley, 2006).
AGEE, JAMES Film and book critic, author of A Death in the Family and Let Us Now Praise Famous Men. Screenwriter of The African Queen and The Night of the Hunter. Visited Los Angeles periodically in the forties and fifties to interview filmmakers for Time and to work on screenplays, both produced and un-. These included one for Chaplin about the Little Tramp after a nuclear apocalypse, and African Queen for John Huston, whose demands for revisions and tennis games helped give Agee a heart attack. Quoted from Letters of James Agee to Father Flye (New York: Melville House, 2014).
AINSWORTH, ED Los Angeles Times columnist. Also ghostwriter of The California I Love, the autobiography of Leo Carrillo, who played the Cisco Kid on television and may well be the first person born in Los Angeles ever to become nationally famous. Quoted from the Los Angeles Times.
ALPERSTEIN, ELLEN Los Angeles journalist, blogger, and longtime contributor to laobserved.com, where this entry first appeared. By gracious permission of the author.