In his autobiography Dali is exactly as it is shown: a conscious elusive madman of his madness and loves passionately this madness. The book is very well written, sometimes with a few laps, mainly towards the end of the book. Some sentences, which set the tone of certain passages of the story, deserve to be archived, including this one: "I was so viable undoubtedly my brother [who died] had been a first attempt. myself conceived in too absolute impossible. " Some passages so stick perfectly to the character. Hoax or reality? Probably a little of both. And like in every autobiography meetings are numerous and surprising, and daily Dali is still quite grotesque. Finally, reading the book sheds light on the artistic work of the author: its relation to religion, crutches, soft watches, he and Gala ...
