n  A live pelican is an interesting, amusing, and sympathetic bird, though if you handle him he will give you lice; but a dead pelican looks very silly.n

Lotz: Hello, everyone. Welcome back to book club. Did everyone finish our book?

All: Yes, yes.

Lotz: Good. Now did anybody like it?

Doctor: I thought it was dreadful the way he talks about the bulls.

Lotz: Ok, you can go then.

Businessman: Really, this whole business sounds crude and wasteful.

Lotz: You are dismissed.

Shopkeeper: I’d never let my children read this sort of thing.

Lotz: Off you go. But did anybody like it? Anyone at all?

Old Lady: I quite liked it.

Lotz: Ok, come with me, then, and we’ll talk about it.

Old Lady: Alright, sir. But tell me. Why are you writing your book review like this? Didn’t Hemingway do this in the book?

Lotz: Yes, Madame, he certainly did. I thought it would be fun to imitate him.

Old Lady: All imitations only serve to show the imitator is a failure. Didn’t Hemingway say that?

Lotz: Something like it. Well, tell me then. What did you like about the book?

Old Lady: It’s hard to say. To be honest, I thought I’d hate it. But there was something really charming about the way Hemingway talks about bullfighting. I can't exactly put my finger on it.

Lotz: That’s how it always is with Hemingway. You think he will be violent, boorish, brutal, vulgar, perhaps even vaguely immoral. But for a certain subset of people, there is nothing at all vulgar in it; only artistry and truth. And you can’t know what kind of person you are until you read him.

Old Lady: Didn’t Hemingway say almost the same exact thing about bullfighting? You’re ripping him off again.

Lotz: Madame, ripping authors off is one of my pastimes. But it is indeed worth pointing out that whenever Hemingway describes hunting or bullfighting or one of his manly pursuits, he is also giving a metaphorical description of his own writing.

Old Woman: Many people have said this before. You’re a poor critic.

Lotz: True enough, Madame. But did you realize this as you read?

Old Woman: I admit I didn’t, but now that you point it out it is all very obvious. I heard it before, years ago.

Lotz: Yes, the way he goes on and on about how the bullfighter must be brave and honest, must be simple and straightforward, must not cheat his crowd, must not use any tricks, must put himself in real danger.

Old Woman: Spare me this analysis.

Lotz: I apologize, Madame. But tell me, are you now curious to see a bullfight?

Old Woman: I suppose so, just to see if I can pick up on any of the things Hemingway talked about. All the artistry and so forth.

Lotz: Perhaps we can go together, Madame.

Old Woman: With you? I’d rather not.

Lotz: I understand, Madame. I’m curious to know, was there anything you didn’t like about the book?

Old Woman: Yes, I admit that I got rather tired of Hemingway’s descriptions of techniques and of the careers of various bullfighters by the end of it. He went on for rather too long about how bulls have to be brave, how men have to be brave, how everybody and everything has to be brave, and he ended up repeating himself pretty often.

Lotz: You’re right about this, Madame.

Old Woman: And I get the creeps when he talks about how killing is an art.

Lotz: For Hemingway, the moment of death was the simplest and the truest of all moments. You see, Hemingway loved things that were simple and true, but he thought that some things were so simple and so true that most people can’t face them and so can’t adequately write about them.

Old Woman: Yes, yes, spare me any more of this dramatic criticism. I am going. I haven’t time for your puerile book reviews. Goodbye.

She is gone. This review is almost over. If I was up to writing a proper review, I would tell you about how it felt to read this book sitting in a café in Madrid, sipping on a vermouth and gnawing on a bocadillo with chorizo, and I would tell you about the motion sickness as I read this book on the bus ride to Manzanares el Real, about looking out the window and seeing a statue of a matador standing in front of a town’s bull ring, and about the hard, rugged landscape that went by the window, with its rocky hills and empty plains, and about the conversations I’ve had with Spaniards here about whether or not the bullfight is ethical, and I would tell you about visiting the bullring at Ronda after seeing the cliffs and the green countryside, and buying the book in the museum’s gift shop. If this was a proper review, I would tell you all of these things.

Actual rating 3.4

As far as non-fiction writing goes, this is probably the best piece I’ve read so far. I’ve still got a ton of Jane Didion to read, but this is going to take some beating.

Hemmingway takes you through (what I imagine) is every nook and cranny there is to do with bullfighting. Coming into this with basically no knowledge of the ‘sport’, and a pretty disfavour-able opinion on it, I feel like I could hold my own in most conversations now. I still don’t agree with bullfighting personally, but I have a much better understanding of why so many are so passionate about it.

A fascinating, if not a little bit lengthy of a read.

More non-fiction than a novel, I found reading Death in the Afternoon to be tedious and a somewhat unpleasant experience. Perhaps my expectations were too high. While I knew the content would explore bullfighting, I made an uninformed assumption that there would actually be a storyline here instead of an in-depth technical orientation to bullfighting. Other Hemingway works have been much more enjoyable for me.

I usually devour instruction manuals for games but the author went too far with the amount of anecdotes in this one.

I was thinking of bullfighting and of the bull cults that have existed since ancient times. It started with the Egyptian cult of Apis, of which the Golden Calf at the giving of the Ten Commandments was part. Then there was the Minotaur, Nandi the mount of Shiva, the various Celtic bull cults and others widespread through the world up to medieval times. In the present day, the baptismal font of the Mormons stands upon 12 bulls (derived from Solomon's bronze basin no doubt). Perhaps bullfighting, man against what is arguably the primal male animal figure, Theseus against the Minotaur, is a survival of those cults, a ceremony of worship or sacrifice where the bull must die for man to reign supreme. But this isn't mentioned in this or any other book I've read on bullfighting.

The best thing about this book is the wonderfully evocative title. The content doesn't live up to it. Hemingway obviously loved bullfighting and if he'd hadn't been so old and out of shape when he discovered it, would certainly have tried to be a matador himself. As it was, he couldn't so he immersed himself in the culture and wrote about it in this book.

The book has three distinct sections, which although distinct he does jump back and forth to information already imparted. The first section is about the horses and bullfighting. He repeats a lot of crap that he has heard. Things like all the horses are killed. That injured horses have their bellies stuffed with straw and sawdust and then sewn up so they can continue to fight on. So they are not blinkered but blindfoled, made deaf, have their vocal cords cut out and their nostrils glued up but are still in fighting condition! I did some research on this and it does seem that an awful lot of horses died in the corrida back then, still now but not so much. However there is trade in buying ex-bullfighting picador horses and retraining them for dressage which they apparently excel at.

Since the matador is responsible for all expenses for his team, human and equine, it is hardly likely they would be keen to sacrifice highly-trained animals and would obviously have done what they could to preserve life and reuse them.

The second and longest section is the retelling and explanation of a bullfight in an extremely patronising way to an old woman who sits in a cafe and lusts after the matadors. This device is thoroughly annoying and eventually irritates Hemingway enough to just dismiss it, not even really 'her'. The most interesting part of this section is about the bulls, their breeding and their selection. What was particularly interesting is how bulls are bred to be small and weak although brave so that the bullfighters can handle them. Or at least handle them after the picadors have thrust their lances into the neck muscles to weaken the animal, stop him being able to fully raise his head and to enrage him with pain. Doesn't seem like a fair fight does it?

The last section which can easily be skipped and I wish I had, was a long list of the matadors extant in Heminway's day along with a description of their virtues or otherwise.

Although this is, in many ways, the best written of the books about bullfighting I've read, Death and the Sun: A Matador's Season in the Heart of Spain is very informative and quite beautiful.

I am no more pro or anti-bullfighting than I was before I read the book. The weakening of the bull has always upset me, far more than the idea of a ballet drawn around death. I don't know if I would go and see a fight given the opportunity, but I might. If only for the marvellous suits of light, Ora Plata: Embroidered Costumes of the Bullfight.

This spoiler and the next were written when I was reading the book.

A customer came into the bookshop who actually went to a bullfight at Aranjuez Corrida outside Madrid (in 1947. He's 86, very old, still travelling). He was describing it to me and it sounds a lot less bloody and a lot more exciting than the articles I have read. When I say 'less bloody' I don't mean it wasn't cruel but that the horses were not gored, there were no entrails like ribbons, and the bull could lift his head and charge. He had also seen cows, which are used for training and considerably more dangerous than bulls because of their different horns and different ways of charging, but apparently you can't really 'play' with cows. They just want to hit the person, not necessarily gore them so they are head-up, rather than the bulls going for the blood head-down.

Other books on bullfighting I've read are
Ora Plata: Embroidered Costumes of the Bullfight
Running with the Bulls: Fiestas, Corridas, Toreros, and An American's Adventure in Pamplona,
and the fantastic Death and the Sun: A Matador's Season in the Heart of Spain which I didn't review (as yet). A 5-star book about the business of bullfighting, from the breeding of the bulls through to what happens to matadors that live long enough to retire. It was a book of depth, introspection, that made me think way outside the usual knee-jerk, 'but it's so cruel' box.

Fascinatingly morbid yet uniquely engrossing, except when it became redundantly boring. All I can figure is that Hemingway really wanted to be a bullfighter, though I am not sure "Bull Fighter" is the correct term for this activity, "Ritualistic and Methodical Bull Torturer and Slaughterer" seems more appropriate from what I read in this book.

The book does give a very in depth look at Spanish bullfighting in the 1920's and 1930's. The bull fighters of this time are all analyzed by Hemingway, as well as their techniques. My old, hardcover, 1932 copy even contained over 120 pages of black and white photos with descriptions, of the animals, the bullfighters, and the action, including goring and death. A huge glossary of terms at the back of the book also shows Hemingway's unique interpretation of not only the language and terminology of bull fighting, but of Spanish slang. (And by Hemingway's defining of the word Maricon I now see that he was a bit homophobic.)

The book also includes Hemingway telling of the reactions of many people he attended the bull fights with, identifying them only by sex, initials, and age, telling who enjoyed it, who hated it, and why. At the very end of the book, Hemingway also included a short biography of an American bull fighter, Sidney Franklin, who I now have found wrote his own book about his experiences being a bull fighter.

In the end, I am coming away with a curious wondering as to why Hemingway wrote this non-fiction book. All I can figure is that he was really fascinated by the activity, by the fighters, by the culture. He appears to have attended numerous fights. Maybe he wished to be a bull fighter himself, and since he couldn't be one, critiquing and analyzing them, and giving his own interpretation of them made him feel important.

Even though I'm not a fan of bull fighting, this is a really interesting view into the world of someone who is. You get all the ins and outs of what makes a good or bad bullfight, the history and the culture behind it. What shines through is the obvious passion Hemingway had for bullfighting and Spain in general, and I think it's always fascinating and interesting to take a moment to put aside one's point of view and step into someone else's.

Certain sections do drag, there are thorough descriptions of dozens of bullfighters, with their history, style and skill recounded, sometimes repeated. It's clear that this was very much intended as a contemporary guide to bullfighting, which fighters to follow, which to avoid, and where to see one. Much of this is lost on the modern reader.

There are, however, many interesting tangents, the author is clearly aware that too much uninterrupted time spent talking about bullfighting and nothing else would become tiresome. One particularly moving section discussing Heminways experiences of the First World War stood out and helped to explain the attitude behind a love of bullfighting. In an era where human life was so cheap, spending too much time worrying about animals could smack of hypocrisy.

totally awesome. i want to go to mexico or spain again as soon as possible.

Hemingwayův styl si nelze dost dobře představit bez určité dávky cynismu, který místy přerůstá v pozérství a mačismus. Je to přirozená součást jeho sebeprezentace ve vlastním díle, která slouží coby kontrapunkt k jinak úsporné a neutrální melodii vyprávění, což podle mě zvyšuje míru literární autenticity. V reportážní poloze samozřejmě tento cynický autorský hlas vystupuje silněji, takže jeho Prolegomena k Tauromachii se logicky zdají poněkud zbytnělé v uměleckém chvástání a předvádění. V imaginárním dialogu se starou dámou doplňujícím tři čtvrtiny kapitol se tento svérázný komentář zcela odpoutává, aby nás seznámil s autorovými postřehy, náhledy a teoriemi o umění. Hemingwayův mistrovský roh se tu přitom snaží rozpárat právě břicha vycpána pilinami, útočí na zbytečné producírování, které tímto osobním vyřizováním účtů sám předvádí. Bylo by příliš jednoduché držet se stereotypu o jeho maskulinních a šovinistických stereotypech a konstatovat prostě, že si nevidí do huby. Ne, za tím je kus poctivé sebeironie, cynismem míří vždy nejdřív na sebe, problematizuje pozici chlapáckého ega bez bázně a hany.

Krom toho, že je tento literární lalok nonfiction trupu syžetovým kontrapunktem a zdrojem Hemingwayovy "filozofie", měl by nás zvlášť upozornit na zásadní předpoklad celého textu. Jde o nezastupitelnost subjektivního vnímání, především jeho vlastního, které je doplněno o pár záznamů diváckých reakcí. Není to reportáž, natož příručka pro první návštěvníky corridy, i když se tak kniha může tvářit. Je to svědectví vášně, posedlosti hledáním okamžiku pravdy, fascinace smrtí. Dokonalá znalost prostředí a lidí, čas, který Hemingway věnoval objíždění býčích arén a vysedáváním s torery tu nejsou prostředkem literárního námětu, respektive nejsou tu cílem literárního záměru (tj. napsat dobře o něčem co znám). Naopak, ono ohromující porozumění je vlastně sekundární, přidané, získané z pouhého trvání (a prohlubování) původního uměleckého vidění skutečnosti.

Popis emocionálního zaujetí je tak vlastně hedonisticky vedenou apologií corridy coby umění. Hemingway nijak nezpochybňuje jeho krutost, ačkoliv jeho etická argumentace ji značně relativizuje. Tento aspekt nelze pominout. Morální ohledy vůči zvířatům se evidentně historicky mění (zlepšují), dnes by jistě tato kniha utrpěla zdrcující kritiku od celé kulturní fronty. Ačkoli většina lidí jí vepřové nebo kuřecí, lov velryb se považuje za nechutný přežitek. Porážet dobytek na jatkách je víc přijatelné, než prvozovat hon na lišku nebo kohoutí zápasy, což je samosebou pokrytecký speciesismus. Ale tyto zdánlivě nesmyslné barrery jsou právě eticky zajímavé. Co nás vede k upřednostňování určitých druhů? A v tomto ohledu je Smrt odpoledne velmi cenným zdrojem poznatků, ačkoli je opřena de facto o jedinou individální zkušenost. Hemingwayovo vyznání se sice popisu morálních soudů dotýká jen letmo, zato pečlivě ohledává vnímání smyslu nějakého jednání, ze kterého potom morální hodnocení vychází. Jeho svědectví je důkazem klíčové role symbolického kontextu a ritualizace v psychologické a sociální rovině a jakési folk etology a teorie mysli pokud jde o subjektivní interpretaci zvířecího chování. Máme tu dost podnětů k tomu se ptát, proč určité chování býků posuzuje aficionado jako statečné a jiné jako zbabělé, proč je cornada de caballo lidské zranění, jaký je rozdíl mezi čestným zabitím a "vraždou" býka atp. Umění je vlastně nebezpečná věc, jelikož zaujetí může značně pokroutit naši morálku. Na druhou stranu je to umění, které nám může poskytnout vysvětlení těchto posunů a vyhnat vlastní zarputilost či předsudky z pohodlné querencie. I kdyby nás čekala libová veganská budoucnost, Smrt odpoledne by neměla zmizet z našeho jídelníčku.

“Find what gave you emotion; what the action was that gave you excitement. Then write it down making it clear so that the reader can see it too. Prose is architecture, not interior decoration, and the Baroque is over.”

“The cynical ones are the best companions. But the best of all are the cynical ones when they are still devout; or after; when having been devout, then cynical, they become devout again by cynicism.”

I am a long-time fan of Hemingway, and this book has probably been on my shelf for nearly forty years. It came down during the virus. His prose is always good, and there are passages about writing that are brilliant. But I find much of the book tedious.

I wasn't really sure what to expect when I picked this up, but I thought if I were to read about bullfighting, Hemingway might be a good choice as a guide. I had no idea it would be so detailed.

I feel like I came away from it understanding the structure of a bullfight, the environment, the emotion. I was fascinated by his descriptions of proper killing, the work of the picadores and banderilleros (who I didn't even know existed before), and all the moves that a matador may perform, properly or improperly. Perhaps the most interesting part was Hemingway's recurring theme of the bravery of the bull. It's easy for an outsider to think of the matador as brave (or crazy), but one rarely considers the idea of a brave bull and how that bravery can raise the level of a bullfight to sheer brilliance if properly used by the matador.

Also, you get a glimpse of Spain and its people through his writing, which I also enjoyed immensely. And finally, some of it was quite funny, as my boyfriend can attest because I kept reading passages out loud to him.