I suppose everyone is entitled to their opinion. What Hollywood looked like when Mr. Faulkner deigned to spend time here…
This is the corner of Highland and Hollywood Blvd. The building is still there.
This is Hollywood Blvd. Grauman’s Chinese Theatre is at the bottom of the frame.
He may have stopped at Sardi’s, designed by Richard Neutra for a drink…
Or picked up some paper for his typewriter here, at the stationer’s store…
And perhaps feeling a little worse for those cocktails at lunch he may have gone home to a courtyard apartment like this…”Would to god, why is the sun glaring so? Why is it so damn halcyon all the time?” he thought, a faintly cockeyed smile on his lips.
But he placated himself, thinking about that young script girl working for Mr. Hawks, she of the golden hair and the firm flanks and the steady hands. Perhaps she would drive him out to see the stars come up above the plastic city, and turn the loud, the usually banal, and the large into this:
He seems to have suffered the usual reaction of those who allow themselves to be seduced by the serpent, he tried to bite back. He still took the money and the poison! It’s worth noting that although parts of Los Angeles *are* plastic and ass-holey and aspects that The Player look like Sesame Street there is also beauty to be found and some Great people who live there – like Ms Vickie Lester, the Mr (not Mr Ed!), and their friends!
I let a dead man rile me up! But really, it’s exactly as you said: “Sss-educed by the serpent, he tried to bite back.”
I like the courtyard apartments. Do they still exist? Thank goodness Mr F can’t see today’s plastic world. 😉 There wouldn’t be enough orifices available for him to describe it.
I’m waiting for an ancient Sumerian tablet to be translated…”Those rotten kids and their deafening drums and discordant pan pipes—”
It will not be long, I am sure. 😀
Wouldn’t that be a hoot!
Comments are closed.