Ernest Hemingway knew a great deal about bullfighting, and he shares it all in this book ... sometimes in excruciating detail.

I am of the type who believes that just about everything Hemingway wrote was brilliant. And parts of this book, which by the way has one of the best titles ever, reaches that level. In fact, it also shows Hemingway in a rare playful side, bringing in a fictional old lady at the end of several chapters and showing his alterego armchair psychologist as Dr. Hemingstein. The descriptions of the bullring, of the sports' rituals, of the stories of those involved and even of the types of bulls themselves can carry a great deal of the book even to bullfighting non-believers.

But it doesn't take much for the book to get into minutiae. Details were Hemingway's strong suit, but they were usually details about setting and character. The details about the innumerable bullfighters and their entourages became tedious toward the end.

And even though Hemingway acknowledges at the beginning that some people would be appalled at the very notion of bullfighting, he asserts that you have to see it, to be there, to know exactly how you react.

That, dear Papa, is crap. I don't have to see an animal being tortured to know it's unappealing at best and downright immoral at the other end. Even beautiful prose by the 20th century's greatest American writer couldn't persuade me otherwise.

I despise bullfighting. It's disgusting. But if someone manages to write 350 pages about bullfighting so enthusiastically and lovingly–describing its nuances, different moves and greatest bullfighters, its pride, heroic feelings, rigid and honorable rules and passion, technicalities, Spanish taverns and the morbid life of the matadors, all while encompassing a vivid picture of the now long-gone Spain of the 30's–that it keeps such a rabid hater of the "sport" as I am glued into the book and, goddamn, to enjoy it, the book is good. It has to be great. And it is. Death in the Afternoon is an exceptional book, which makes the too early departure of the writer more saddening than ever.

Vintage Hemingway in which he explores the history, pageantry, art, and culture of bullfighting. He includes information of several matadors and discusses some of the brutality of the sport. It does give a foundation for understanding the event.

The great thing is to last and get your work done and see and hear and learn and understand; and write when there is something that you know; and not before; and not too damned much after. Let those who want to save the world if you can get to see it clear and as a whole. Then any part you make will represent the whole if it's made truly. The thing to do is work and learn and make it.

I bought this book because I cannot imagine any self-respecting literature enthusiast who does not own Hemingway's major works. Admitedly, however, I did not know what to expect from the book. I had a vague notion that Hemingway discusses bullfighting - onto page one.

The title itself seems to suck all fear and sentiment from the notion of death. It implies a certain casual approach to the concept - or its crafty entrance onto a lively scene. Keep reading.

Immediately, Hemingway prefaces the book by dictating, in no uncertain terms, his trademark intentions as a writer - to write honestly of what exists as truth, mercilessly; the central ethos of his style. He insists that the writer must serve as a simple conduit between an event and those who read about it so the event can dictate its own inspiration to emotion, not the writer. He need not add any stimental embellishments lest the reader alternate his focus between their emotions and the writer's emotions and displace themselves from the stirring in their own soul, or censor any aspect of an event and deny the reader the full emotive experience. Hemingway obviously possesses a deep insight into the essence of bullfighting and has coupled that insight with a sturdy writing philosophy. Preach on.

I particularly appreciated Heminway's distinction between qualifying the moral implications of bullfighting according to feeling and as a unity of circumstances into one tragic, beautiful event. A spectator may sympathize with the horse, bull or matador which would lead to negative or positive feelings about the fight, depending on the outcome. If the matador wins and the spectator desires an example of Man triumphing over nature, he might argue for a certain moral high ground in bullfighting. Yet if a spectator sympathizes with animals, they might see only a dispicable scene of grotesque barbarity. Yet both of these spectators would miss the terrible trajedy, in all its beauty and truth, within the whole event. The bullfight, arguably, represents a dance - the unavoidable snare of Death and the proud defiance of Life - in all its terrible beauty or gallant victory.

When understanding Death as an imminent fate, one might find themselves viewing life through a rather unpleasant nihilistic lens. Such a pessimistic respect for death might ultimately render all of life's happiness as meaningless, which would explain the moral dread felt by some who witness the bullfight. Who wants to feel that way? In the bullfight, these majestic and terrible beasts exist to die. But, nihilistically speaking, does not man exist for the same reason? Perhaps the bullfight somehow imparts Man's dread or, perhaps, his inability to accept his own meaninglessness - born to die, a tragic existence now shared with the strongest of beasts who cannot, like Man, stave off the end.

On the other hand, Man has always imagined himself as a grandiose being capable of altering his own fate. Even today, people essentially apply all manners of sciences to disarm and shackle Death. We thrive on defiance and worship those who rise from the dead. Matadors do not rage against nature but spit in the face of charging Death. And yet, amongst all the pomp in the performance lies the art of the dance. The trajedy of the bullfight is not that the bull, or matador, dies but how he dies. Neither creature can control anything more.

One will see the brilliance and majesty of bullfighting when one sanctifies the seemingly contrary and combative executions of truth rather than abhoring the apparent neglect of cozy morals. To restrain one's actions to align with what one can qualify as the right and true thing, though it may mean the end for something else on the stage, is to devote oneself less to the outcomes of those players and entirely to the vision of real essence. Morality cannot exist purely based on the sustainability of life because death will never cease to exist. Therefore, have confidence in doing the right thing and respect the presence of Death.

Whoa, Hemingway...careful now.

Hemingway talked at length about many of the noteworthy matadors practicing in Spain through the early twentieth century. He talked about one known as Maera. During this short biography of a John Wayne fighter brought up under one of Spain's immortal masters, I felt a certain emotive quality but struggled to explicitly identify the reasons behind the emotion or to find any moral justification for it. At least Hemingway offered none. I simply felt the dull bliss of human connection between two unrelated people separated by all matter of space and time. Any moral implication or lesson in truth, the desire and subsequent search for them within the story, faded and left me with an indefinable contentment in knowing the true actions and essence of someone without distracting myself with the hopes of being bettered by such an acquaintance. I felt this same emotion propelling me through The Sun Also Rises but couldn't make sense of it. After reading Death In The Afternoon, a book centering around a "sport" I care nothing about, I somehow feel that I've come closer to appreciating and understanding the essence of Hemingway's ethos.

I only wish Hemingway had performed more laudibly in his craft. Look back to the epigraph at the beginning. Tell me he could not have written such a beautiful idea better.

Fascinert av hans fascinasjon

The horn ultimatum.

I enjoyed this far more than I expected. Apart from The Old Man And The Sea I hadn't read any Hemingway so borrowed two of his better known titles at random to read on holiday. This was the first one I read and I had no prior expectations as to it's contents. It's essentially non-fiction, an introduction and treatise on Spanish Bullfighting, which wasn't a subject I expected to find so interesting.

You couldn't really hope for a better narrator to introduce you to what Hemingway refers to as 'the theatre of life and death' which becomes, as much as Hemingway would deny this, a portrait and meditation of Spain, honour, masculinity and mortality. Found the directness of his writing style refreshing and well paced and the content original and highly interesting.

Published in 1932, His fifth book. set primarily during the 1920s. Hemingway's experiences and observations about bullfighting in Spain during that period. It combines a deep dive into the art and culture of bullfighting with meditations on life, death, and human nature.

Note

A bullfight in Spanish is called a corrida de toros or a running of the bulls

Feana; the feana that takes a man out of himself and makes him feel immortal,the final act of killing a bull

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

This book seemed to never end. The last chapter is the best so I glad I stuck to it. This book is like reading a textbook not a novel.

Death in the Afternoon is a non-fiction book by Ernest Hemingway that explores the ceremony and traditions of Spanish bullfighting. Looking at the history and the culture behind bullfighting, the book also explores the dangers and fears being faced. Still considered one of the best books ever written about bullfighting, Death in the Afternoon explores the sport by one of its aficionados.

This is an interesting book, not something I would read normally but I did enjoy it. While I am morally opposed to bullfighting I didn’t have any really knowledge of the sport and culture behind it. So I went into this book with an open mind and a little hesitant. I had never had a good experience with Hemingway in the past; granted I’ve only read one of his novels (The Old Man and the Sea) but it was enough to never go back. I know this is not a good reason not to return but I have to admit I did enjoy the writing styles.

Ernest Hemingway has a very descriptive writing style which makes for some interesting insights; but sometimes too much. I get the impression that he is using humour in some of his writing but it’s so obscure that it either goes over my head or is just downright weird. I know Hemingway was a rather unusual man and had an interesting life but he isn’t someone that I think I will ever understand or connect with in any way. While I’m against bullfighting, Hemingway seems to be an advocate towards it and often wants it to be more violent and deadly.

You have to understand that Ernest Hemingway is an arrogant, sexist, pompous ass and it often comes through in his writing, so you have to take everything he says with a huge grain of salt. I found myself disagreeing with him all too often but still interested in what he was saying. I went into this book knowing that Hemingway and I weren’t going to get along at times, which was lucky because I was ready to throw out any of his opinions that didn’t align with mine. I did find it interesting how he kept using bullfighting as a metaphor for art and Spain; I don’t know if I agree with this but he seemed was be determined to make this point.

While I’m still opposed to bullfighting, I now have a whole lot more information about the topic; possibly too much. Hemingway’s writing style was enough to make me willing to try something else of his (if I find something good) and this was an interesting and different reading experience. I don’t read enough non-fiction, let alone travel or sports writing so this was a book way out of left field. I’m determined to read more non-fiction now and I hope that I manage to get through at least one a month. Also interesting to see how this review turned out; I’m never know how to approach a non-fiction review and I think I did alright here.

This review originally appeared on my blog; http://literary-exploration.com/2013/...

I read this mostly to understand the fascination with bullfighting, which today (at least for Americans in Pamplona) seems like a deadly spring break vacation (for the bulls anyway). For Hemingway, and perhaps for Spaniards since the practice began, bullfighting represented a controlled way to defy death, to be God-like in taking a life, and somehow trandscending immortality, even if temporarily. (Those of you out there that study group dynamics, it seems as simple as the biblical practice of scapegoating.) But more than anything else, bullfighting seems to primarily concentrate death and dying and killing and, I suppose in the 1930s, was considered very appropriate writing material, especially for an author who narrowly escaped death in WWI. That said, it was interesting, boring at times, and sadly cruel at other still...

As an animal lover, I don't care for the concept of bullfighting; but I am interested in cultural traditions, and in the sociology of sports. Death in the Afternoon told me more about bullfighting than I probably need to know - the level of detail is exhaustive, and much of it is so of-the-moment journalistic that, if Hemingway's name were not attached to the book, few would read it today. Indeed, the book is most interesting for the insights it provides into the mindset of a major writer (not all of them reassuring) and as an example of his style.

That style, by the way, is often misrepresented as unproblematically readable because Hemingway typically uses simple words. Ah, but the sentences he uses them in can be quite grammatically elaborate, sometimes almost ostentatiously so, and repetitive in the manner of Gertrude Stein (who of course influenced Hemingway greatly). For example:

"Cagancho's cowardice when he has to kill is more than disgusting. It is not the sweating, dry-mouthed fear of the nineteen-year-old boy who cannot kill properly having been too frightened of it with big bulls ever to take the chances necessary to attempt it in order to learn to dominate it properly and so is sick afraid of the horn. It is a cold-blooded gypsy defrauding of the public by the most shameless, anger-arousing obtainer of money under false pretences, that ever went into a bull ring."

This is quite splendid in its way, with wonderful phraseology - "dry-mouthed fear", "sick afraid of the horn", "cold-blooded gypsy defrauding of the public", "obtainer of money under false pretences". Yet even the most fluent literary reader might have to take two or three passes at that second sentence in order to decode the grammar. You almost have to mentally diagram many of Hemingway's sentences to parse their syntax. To say that they are knotty is an understatement.

A particular stylistic highlight of the book is the last chapter of the main text (#20), in which Hemingway describes everything he DIDN'T include in Death in the Afternoon and delivers his own self-verdict: "No. It is not enough of a book, but still there were a few things to be said. There were a few practical things to be said."

That is a great ending.

The 75-page "Explanatory Glossary" that follows the main text is a quite fun read.

As for Hemingway's philosophy of blood sports, I wasn't in the least convinced, but of course I wouldn't be. You'll have to see for yourself if you are.