Those who did not know my father, Eliseo Diegothey imagine him as someone very serious, somewhat gloomy, locked in his world of poetry and literature. And although all that is still true, he was also a man with a fine sense of humor: he made jokes with my brother Rapiformed very nice duos with his friends Octavio Smith and Cintio Vitier. Agustín Pi participated with suggestions and, above all, with his laughter, which could be heard throughout the house. This facet of my father explains the “telegrams” that you will read at the end of this work.
Francisco Petrone (Buenos Aires, 1902–1967) was a great film and theater actor. In Cuba he was known for his films The gaucho war and a real man 1both from the early 1940s and widely broadcast on Cuban television in the 1950s and 1960s. I saw them as a teenager and remember very well some brief speeches, especially from a real manwhich in my family were always repeated with a smile.
In the film, Petrone plays a rich and powerful businessman, rude and harsh, married to a woman who constantly demands attention and is very jealous. She (Amelia Bence, also very famous and a great actress of the time) invents a romance with a half-witted friend who visits the house. She tells Petrone in front of her supposed lover and he responds angrily: “My house is not a tiatro!” (he says it so loudly that the “e” sounds like an “i”), and to the visitor: “Either my wife turns out to be crazy, or I’ll blow your brains out.”
The marriage is reconciled; Later she falls ill and dies. In the last scene, Petrone says, visibly saddened: “I am not one of those men who let their women die.” Then he picks her up and enters the house’s pool, obviously to commit suicide and die with her (at least that’s how I remember it).
But why am I telling all this?
In 1953 Petrone visited Havana with his theater company. It came with a repertoire of works by Arthur Miller, including death of a salesman. I never knew how his friendship with Agustín Pi began, whether it was in Cuba or in Mexico, where he spent a few years. It was through that friendship that Petrone came to our house and met my parents, Cintio, Fina, Octavio and other writers and family friends. It was a very warm and natural relationship, as if they had known each other all their lives.
My parents went to see death of a salesmanof course; I think it premiered at the Martí Theater. I think they didn’t take my brother Rapi, because he was only four years old, but among the photos my mother kept I found some very cute ones of my brother imitating Petrone, with some suitcases and a hat. It may be that, as my parents always played with the child with puppets and costumes, my brother understood it as just another game. He “played” the character in front of Petrone, who was very amused seeing that little boy so serious and so focused on his “performance.”
On his visits home, Petrone told anecdotes from his films. One of them referred to the final scene of a real man. To increase the drama, the producers had placed some steps in the pool so that the actor could slowly go down and accentuate his intention to commit suicide. But the steps were slippery, Amelia Bence was a little heavy, and on several occasions they ended up falling into the water. They had to repeat the scene several times.
After leaving Cuba, the friendship continued through letters. In one of them, Petrone included a family photo where he appears with his wife and six children. My mother wrote on the back: “Nélida Martínez and Petrone with their children. Beautiful baby, right?”
My father wrote some “telegrams” from a non-existent theater producer that changed over the centuries. This producer, always optimistic, gets excellent contracts, but luck is not on his side and they always coincide with political or natural catastrophes. Everyone was amused by my father’s jokes, starting with Petrone.
I remember very well the day they learned, through the newspaper, of the death of their dear friend, news that saddened them deeply.
Let these memories remain as a testimony of that beautiful friendship and as a small tribute to the great Argentine actor who was Francisco Petrone.
Congratulate me! I snuck into Julio’s house. He’s a great guy. Cultured and knows a lot about theater. It guarantees me one hundred performances of “The Death of the Centurion.” Figure it out. This afternoon I’m going to the Senate with him. Something big is preparing. When you talk to him, don’t stop calling him Caesar. It is very ceremonious. Everything finally resolved. I’ll wait for you here tomorrow.
Rome, Ides of March.
Everything resolved. I am an intimate of the Emperor’s secretary. Yesterday I had lunch with him. He’s a great guy. Debuts at the Gran Teatro “Vesuvius” with “The Death of the Proconsul”. You have time to arrive at noon. I’ll tell you about Plinio, a certain old gagá who is leaving the city today because he believes in idiotic omens. Imagine! His cretinism will not allow him to see the work. We will hug each other very soon.
Pompeii
No problems! “The death of the Muezzin” is a fact. The man is a great guy and he guarantees it personally. The thing about the Galicians Isabel and Fernando is a ridiculous rumor. When you write to me, do so at the following address: Abu Ben, vizier, Boabdil’s entourage, The Alhambra, Granada.
Don’t worry. Things are ugly here but we have the money well kept and the representation of “The Death of the Dolphin” is safe. I repeat that the money is safe. Chubby Luis is a great guy. He had it kept in the Bastille. Imagine, in the Bastille!! Come here right away.
Paris, July 13, 1789
This time it doesn’t fail. Resistance box and panorama arrive safely. We are proof of everything. Imagine! They go on the SS Titanic.
Liverpool, 1912
Get ready to bless me! Imagine! I’m a lynx! I doubled the businessman’s money! Take first right away. Expenses paid here. I also pawned a resistance box, panorama and carpets. Tonight I bet on Firpo’s doll! He’s a great guy!
Chicago, 1923
Imagine! We have finally found the perfect businessman! Our problems are over! The man knows nothing but box office. He is a beast for money. He doesn’t believe in anyone. Plus, he’s a great guy. You must have heard of it. Imagine! His name is Francisco Petrone.
Mexico, 1953
Note:
1 The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences awarded the Academic Condor Award for the best leading actors, female and male, of 1943, to Amelia Bence and Francisco Petrone, respectively.
