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It's easy to be seduced by the power of spectacle and that feeling of responsibility we often have to prop up long-held cultural traditions. The history of bullfighting in Spain and other Spanish speaking countries is as rich as it is long; their greatest matadors are worshipped like saints and great efforts have been made to elevate the ritualistic slaughter of innocent animals to the level of respectable art.
There are passages that read beautifully. Hemingway captures the excitement of watching toreros brave the thin frontier that separates life from death very well. Considered as an abstraction, I find myself agreeing with Hemingway, the bullfight unfolds like the most gripping of tragic dramas, it's meaning is multi-layered and deep, it's significance profound, and every individual component is carefully managed so as to contribute fully to an inspired, holistic whole.
It's just that to consider it for what it really is, not as an abstraction but as essential 'motion and fact' (to borrow Hemingway's own words), all I see is the slow, hideous, ceremonial slaughter of an innocent animal. One bred solely for the purpose of human entertainment, brought to the ring against its own will, and whittled down by the matador's posse until any chance of a 'fair' contest has been effectively removed.
Read the book, it's highly informative. Just don't forget to ask yourself when you're finished:
'Are we still this primitive?'
There are passages that read beautifully. Hemingway captures the excitement of watching toreros brave the thin frontier that separates life from death very well. Considered as an abstraction, I find myself agreeing with Hemingway, the bullfight unfolds like the most gripping of tragic dramas, it's meaning is multi-layered and deep, it's significance profound, and every individual component is carefully managed so as to contribute fully to an inspired, holistic whole.
It's just that to consider it for what it really is, not as an abstraction but as essential 'motion and fact' (to borrow Hemingway's own words), all I see is the slow, hideous, ceremonial slaughter of an innocent animal. One bred solely for the purpose of human entertainment, brought to the ring against its own will, and whittled down by the matador's posse until any chance of a 'fair' contest has been effectively removed.
Read the book, it's highly informative. Just don't forget to ask yourself when you're finished:
'Are we still this primitive?'