NEW ORLEANS AND PAMPLONA By Don Conover

  NOTE: The articles ON THE HORNS are about bullfighting matters with emphasis on the literary aspect of the subject. They were originaly published in LA BUSCA, the official magazine of the Taurine Bibliophiles of America---TBA---.

After Katrina, will New Orleans be the same?  I don’t mean will the stripper bars and jazz joints and restaurants of the French Quarter be back.  Of course, they will.  And, I don’t mean the grand old houses in the Garden District.  They survived the flood.  I don’t even mean the vast neighborhoods where people’s homes were destroyed and will have to be totally rebuilt. No, what I wonder about is nothing material.

I wonder if I will have the same emotional experience when next I stroll down Bourbon Street.  Even if it was not Mardi Gras, there was always something of the excitement, the stepping outside of everyday life, in just being there.  It was like no other place in America, a little wild, but friendly, inviting you to ‘let go’, a challenge to all of our conventional values. Something like feria!

I was already an aficionado on the evening thirty years ago that I first arrived in Pamplona for the Feria de San Fermin.  The streets were filled with people, most dressed in white with red panuelos around their necks.  Some were dancing, others just talking, greeting friends who had just arrived, trying to find some place to sit and have a drink, or waiting to get into the restaurants that were all crowded and as noisy as out on the street. The next morning, the excitement of the encierro was intense, the sound of the rockets when the bulls were released, the runners crowding up the street, then thinning out a bit as the bulls came charging by, and afterward an early morning drink at Bar Txoco while runners related their particular experiences.  Later in the morning, parades, more dancing in the streets, and various festivities in the Plaza de Toros where families came with picnic lunches and wine to share with whoever was seated nearby.  A little quiet in the afternoon, then a gathering at the Yoldi hotel for conversations about the matadors who would be fighting later in the day but were now upstairs getting dressed for the event.  The blare of music as the penas marched to the bullring, carrying a generous supply of food and wine, and waving banners emblazoned with taurine cartoon themes.  The bullfight, more noise, more music, appreciative if the bulls and matadors performed well, raucous and blasphemous if they faltered.  Late dinners, interrupted by the whine of txisto music and drums, then more partying in the streets, and glorious fireworks in the sky.  Finally, after eight days of celebration, everyone in the streets, holding a candle inside a paper cone, singing “Pobre de mi,” poor me, the Feria de San Fermin has ended.  

These are just some of the thoughts that come to mind as I think about feria, and perhaps many of you have similar recollections.  But, is it just an adolescent blast or something more?  Many authors have written about the feria, but like the above, most are simply descriptions of what goes on.  If you want to probe more deeply, try to find a small book called, PEAK EXPERIENCE AT THE SAN FERMIN by Carol Leimroth and Susanna Ferrell Stevens, published by Caislan Press, PO Box 28371, San Jose, CA 05159 in 1984.  The book is, in fact, the Masters Degree thesis by the authors when completing their studies in anthropology.  The perspective of the work focuses on the Americans who come to Pamplona year after year. As some of you may recall, Carol was the daughter of  an American bull runner, and she had a close personal relationship with Matt Carney and was no stranger to Pamplona.

The book begins with some history about the feria’s origins, the city, the saint, the sounds, the gigantes, the bulls, and the encierro, but moves quickly to a collection of impressions gleaned from a great many Americans who were Pamplona regulars.  Their comments describe the bond that Pamplona has become for them.  The term, Peak Experience, refers to the defining moment which makes the feria important to them, and it varies, depending on the individual, the dancing, the drinking, the running, the reunion of friends, banquets, etc.  Here is a sampling:

“You get swirled up in this whole fiesta ambiance, without even being drunk on liquor.  Just the wildness of it.”

“…in this aura of friendship in the Infirmary and talking about things, singing old songs, there arise a few seconds and maybe even minutes when I feel blessedly floating and relaxed…”

“running…it’s wild and exciting. In that wildness there’s some little kind of whisper.  I don’t know what it is, but when the bulls are coming, something happens in you… We don’t have the language for it.  There’s the joy.”

“…I would have to say that the beauty of the whole thing is that it’s not bloody relevant to anything in the whole world at all.”

            Here is how the authors sum up their observations:

“The fiesta is important because of the unique elements within its nature.  These include its participatory nature, its experimental quality and its breaking down of social norms and values…They see the generousness, the openness and tolerance of the Spanish character.  They feel a greater sense of being able to act without structures…It is a world apart from everyday life…We called this state the peak-experience.”

The paradox is that the way people experience feria is very individual, yet it doesn’t happen except in the company of others.  And, I think it is important to note that while the book looks at the feria experience from the perspective of Americans, the research concludes it could not happen absent the natives of Pamplona and their willingness to let outsiders participate, not just be tourists. 

Aside from an excuse to write a bit more about Pamplona and call your attention to a book you may have missed, the point of this piece is also to recognize that here in America, I can’t think of any place where the magic of feria can be found except, possibly, New Orleans.  And, following the logic of this text, the natives are a key to making it happen.  If the people who lost their homes to Katrina don’t come back, will the magic be gone?
 

WANDERING HOW O WHY BULLFIGHTING ORIGINATED IN SPAIN? By Don Conover

 

Have you ever wondered how or why bullfighting originated in Spain and not, say, France or Italy or Greece, or somewhere else?  Why Spain, and why did it come to be such a distinctive part of the Spanish scene?  What were the historical precedents that led to this unique development?

Before proceeding I must make clear that I am no history scholar.  The fact is that as a schoolboy I really hated history.  It just seemed to be a bunch of names and places and dates to memorize, and who cares!  I was interested in science and engineering, things that had order and logic and purpose.  Even though New York State required every high school student to take a year of American history, when my time came, there was a conflict.  I wanted to enroll in courses in Advanced Algebra and Trigonometry, and they were scheduled at the same periods as the American history course.  A discussion with the Headmaster led to my being able to skip the first term of the history course as long as I agreed to at least take the second term.  Then, in college I was able to avoid the subject altogether, much to my regret in later years.

Now, most of the books that I read are either history or biography (which I suppose is a form of history.)  One of the books that made me a convert was Arnold Toynbee’s  A STUDY OF HISTORY.  In it, the author provides a fascinating explanation of how different eras of history had their beginnings, their rise to eminence, and their decline.  More recently, another author, Jared Diamond, tackled the same issue, stating that he was trying to figure out why civilizations developed as they did.  Why here, not there!  Why, for instance, did so many natives die of disease when the conquistadors landed in the Americas, but no diseases were passed back the other way to the Europeans?  The book is GUNS, GERMS AND STEEL, and I recommend it highly. 

A lot of my reading is not reading at all, but listening to tape recordings of books while I’m driving or walking laps at the gym.  Most recently, I have been listening to a series of lectures (provided by The Teaching Company) by Teofilo Ruiz, a Professor at UCLA.  The series is called, “The Other 1492: Ferdinand, Isabella, and the Making of an Empire.”  It was this fascinating series that gave me the idea of exploring the question of how bullfighting came to be in Spain.

Now, as previously stated, I am no historian.  In my career, I was an engineer, a manager, and for a certain period of years I had a wonderful opportunity to become a futurist, and the elements of that activity remain fundamental to the way I view the world.

During those years, I had occasion to meet with the great science fiction author, Isaac Asimov.  I asked him how he was able to conceive the future with such comprehension, describing technology and developments not yet invented.  He said that while true scientists had to take forward steps cautiously, verifying their findings, testing each bit of innovation before proceeding to the next step, he was a fiction writer with no such strictures.  He saw the same bits of invention as the scientists, but his work involved imaging where such developments might take us.  

So, admiring historians like Toynbee and Diamond, inspired by the revelations of Ruiz, and exercising the license employed by Asimov, let’s get back to the question how it was that bullfighting became such a special part of Spanish culture.  Only, this is to be futurism in reverse.  We know that bullfighting is Spanish, exported to a few other countries to be sure, but still Spanish!  What we will be looking for are the precedents, the events which together caused the bullfight to originate in Spain and come to command an important place in Spanish culture.  I make no pretense that the following is true history, but I do suggest that the events described, taken together, present a reasonable rationale about the way it came to be.

To begin our speculation, let’s start with the obvious, the bulls, toro toro. From pre-historic cave paintings, not just in Spain, but in France and perhaps elsewhere, we know that some species of wild bull populated many lands, not just the Iberian peninsula.  Moreover, from early drawings and sculptures, we know bulls were used in rituals in other cultures, ancient Crete, Rome, etc.

So the question is, what happened so that toro toro became a uniquely Iberian species, available for the development of bullfighting?  An answer may be deduced from the way land was developed as civilized societies grew.  In the other places, Greece, Italy, France, even the northern regions of what was to become Spain, the land was fertile and received adequate rain so that agriculture flourished.  Where the economy involved farming to grow grains, vegetables, and fruit, it is easy to imagine that wild herds of toros might be unwelcome and eventually eliminated.

In contrast, the plains of Castile are dry, unsuitable to grow the foods that sustain population growth.  This situation was compounded in the 15^th Century as the Christians drove the Moors out of the area.  Professor Ruiz tells us that while modestly populated by the Moors, when they were at last driven out, the population of Castile dropped to half of what it had been previously.  The dry wide-open spaces were only suitable to raise cattle, and later the Merino sheep herds.  In effect, this may have been the only place where herds of wild cattle, the toro toros, might survive the onslaught of civilization.

Next, let’s consider the emergence of bullfighting as a public spectacle, one in which a powerful, wild animal is ritualistically confronted and killed.  Two avenues of speculation may explain this.

First, consider the political realities in Iberia in the decades following the removal of the Moors.  There was no Spain as we know it today.  The landed was divided among a good many kingdoms, the largest of which were Castile and Aragon.  Moreover, these kingdoms were not monarchies like those we are more familiar with, e.g. Britain and France.  In Iberia, the king (or queen) came to the throne as the result of usurpation, not blood lineage.  There was no pretense of divine right.  Rather, gaining the right to rule was a matter of political expediency and maintaining leadership was something to be worked at, to win the support of nobles and people who made up the society of different cities and towns.

(As an aside, we tend to think of Isabelle and Ferdinand as Queen and King of Spain.  Not so!  Isabelle was Queen of Castile, and Ferdinand was King of Aragon.  Their marriage brought these two provinces into a closer relationship, but not a united country.)

Of course, there was no TV, no radio, no newspapers.  So, lacking divine ordination, how did the monarchs of these Iberian provinces reach out to consolidate their position?  How did they get the other nobles who ruled parcels of the land to acknowledge and respect them?

One of the most important, non violent, ways was by the celebration of local holidays.  The king, or queen, would arrive in the city of one noble or another, to help celebrate a particular feast day, to be seen and recognized as one benevolent to the people of the region.  Thus, when we think of the many ferias celebrated throughout modern Spain, we are witnessing the legacy of an earlier political reality.

The confronting of bulls as a part of such festivities is not too difficult to imagine.

From wild beasts hunted out on the plains for sport, to the celebration of aristocratic bravery by doing the same in the town square during feria, to the eventual recognition that it was the nobles’ peasant assistants on foot who were the more exciting toreros, is the bullfight history we all know.  

But, the question remains, why does Spanish culture tolerate, even celebrate, the killing?  One of the arguments against a linear evolution from such as the ancient bull rites of Crete to modern bullfighting in Spain is the fact that the ancients did not kill the bulls they used in celebrations.  The killing is peculiar to Spain! Even today, according to traditional Spanish culture, the killing is OK, whereas the rest of the world tends to regard it as cruel and a throwback to barbarism.  Why the difference in values?

It may be a stretch, but here is what I think may be the explanation.  Look back in time, before Queen Isabelle, before the seven hundred years of Muslim rule, back to the time when Spain was a Roman province.  Back then, Christianity was becoming the leading religion of the western people including those who lived in Iberia.  But the Romans ruled, and they did so with an occupying army that was not Christian but instead worshipped the god, Mithra, who created life by spilling the blood of the sacred bull.

Is it surprising to read (see Allen Josephs’ WHITE WALL OF SPAIN) the tale that when early Spanish Christians asked their priests what the devil looked like, they were told of a black creature with horns and a tail.  And, shouldn’t it be a good thing to kill the devil?  I cannot help but wonder if ancient religious animosity is not the reason Spain perceives killing the bull differently than the rest of the world.  (If you have trouble giving credence to this notion, ask yourself why is it that most of us were taught to fear snakes. Where did that come from?)

So, I have tried to make the case that the land, the politics, and the religion of early Spain may explain the evolution of the bullfight.  I don’t know if these arguments are valid cause and effect reasoning, but my mindset compels me to look for such connections.  It is part of why I now enjoy history so much.

After note:  I briefly mentioned Allen Josephs’ book, WHITE WALL OF SPAIN. In this excellent work, Allen concludes that the modern bullfight is a mutation, i.e. not the result of an orderly evolution.  He certainly is the more knowledgeable concerning the history of Spain.  What I would argue is that even mutation happens for a reason.  We may not know what such reasons are.  They may not be straight lines of development, but there is a rational explanation even for mutations.  I would be interested to hear what others think.                 

REVISITING HEMINGWAY‘S DEATH IN THE AFTERNOON By Don Conover

 

When the days are warm, generally May through September, Patti and I try to make weekly excursions to the beach.  After breakfast, we load the car with a picnic lunch, beach towels, something to read, folding beach chairs, and my boogie board, then drive the 68 miles from home in Bucks County, through the New Jersey pines, to our parking spot behind the dunes on Long Beach Island.  On those drives, it has become our custom to listen to audio tapes of lectures provided by The Teaching Company.  This year, we were enjoying a series called Classics of American Literature, and the lecturer was Professor Arnold Weinstein of Brown University.

There were four half-hour lectures about Hemingway.  It was the introduction to these lectures and a comment in conclusion that got me thinking about the theme for this piece.  Professor Weinstein remarked that Hemingway is not being given so much attention in college courses these days.  The reason, he said, is that Hemingway’s excessive concentration on things like hunting and bullfighting, on personal courage in facing death, are too macho in this time of judging what is politically correct.  Then, summing up, in the last EH lecture, Professor W. reiterates all the special contributions EH made to the craft of writing, which alone justifies his place among literary greats.  But, he went on to give an assessment of Hemingway’s writing that I had never heard before.  He characterized Hemingway as a romantic, the notion being that his writing brought the world down to the personal elements which truly define each individual’s existence, i.e. life, love, integrity, courage, and ultimately death!

DEATH IN THE AFTERNOON was barely mentioned in these lectures, but it started me wondering.  In 1992 and again in 2004, I surveyed TBA members for their preferences in taurine literature.  There were various categories in which to nominate favorites, but there was one, ‘best book about tauromachy for general readers’ that pretty much represented the choice as best of the best.  In both surveys, DEATH IN THE AFTERNOON was the overwhelming favorite.  As I reflected on Professor Weinstein’s observation and thought about the TBA surveys, I began to wonder if there might be a connection.  

Old Man: Why try to make things complicated?  Isn’t it plain that the book is simply the best on the subject, and that’s why TBA gave it the #1 spot!

I first read DEATH IN THE AFTERNOON when I was a junior in college, and that was a long time ago.  It may have been that first reading that got me started in what was first an interest and later became a passion for the bullfight.  Like other first experiences, it stayed with me.  But now, I had to wonder how much of my feelings for the book were really accurate or just the product of distant memory, reinforced and possibly distorted by time.  The simple truth is that I couldn’t remember ever reading it a second time.

One of the things I did remember and had trouble with as my own experience with the bullfight grew, was Hemingway’s contention that picing the bull, not infrequently resulting in the horse’s death in those days when EH was writing about the bullfight, was supposed to be some kind of comic relief!  I still cannot imagine how he reached such a conclusion. 

Old Man: OK, you see things differently than someone who certainly had a lot more experience than you.  What’s your point?

As I pondered the validity of my impressions about the book, wondering on one hand if ideas like calling picing comic were not simply the conceits of someone who wanted to impress us with his superior interpretation of the event, and on the other, how and why a knowledgeable, and not uncritical, assembly of aficionados would consistently put the book on a pedestal.  Not withstanding the fact that EH had the advantage of being the first writer to present an English reading audience with a book describing the spectacle, there are now many excellent books detailing all aspects of the taurine culture, and they do so with clarity and credibility.  Why, has DEATH IN THE AFTERNOON stayed at the top of our list?  I guess it’s time to read the book again!       

Old Man: So, now you are going to write one true appraisal of the book!

Upon re-reading, and making a very general comparison with the many bullfight texts written since, what struck me about DITA was how personal it is.  Like sitting with friends at some café, waiting for the time to go into the plaza for the day’s corrida, the conversation ranges over a variety of subjects – how good are these bulls, are today’s matadors as good as the newspapers claim, when are the tremendistas going to grow up and show some respect for the real art of toreo, bullfighting today isn’t like the good old days, and on and on!  Most of the conversation is friendly, but it is also decidedly personal in terms of opinions for or against every subject mentioned.  And, there is always someone who is a bit of a blowhard, and after one too many vinos, sounds off with some over-the-edge opinions, attempting to put others down but often coming off as a bit ridiculous.

Another characteristic of such a personal approach, is the way attention jumps around from one subject to another, and in a moment, I’ll provide some examples to illustrate what I mean.  But, the consequence of such free flow makes a simple assessment of the book impossible.  There are parts that are good and (in my opinion) true.  There are parts that while pertinent when the book was written, don’t mean much today.  And, there are parts the might better have been edited out because they exaggerate the truth or are just plain incorrect.  That’s the way it is when someone expounds on a subject that means a lot to them and they are putting their personal spin on what they say.

When you consider the fact that DITA was written in 1932, the first English language book to focus on the subject of bullfighting, to an audience most likely with no familiarity with bullfighting, and with a cultural disposition to abhor a spectacle involving the ritual killing of animals, Chapter One is brilliant.  In those first fifteen pages, Hemingway treats the reader with the greatest respect, explaining his interest in sharing thoughts about a subject he cares deeply about, but one which it is the reader’s decision to embrace or reject.  The next five chapters are best described as, ‘if you are interested, and if you do decide to go to Spain to attend the bullfight, here are some tips which I want to offer to make your experience a good one!’  I can’t think of another book that does as good a job of bringing the reader into the subject.

Old man:  Right on!  You’ve made the case for the book’s distinguished rep’, why not stop while you’re ahead!

Chapter Seven begins with, “At this point, it is necessary that you see a bullfight.”  Which is by way of stating that now we’ll deal with what happens, what is right or wrong about the way things happen, and who is getting it and who isn’t.  All of this section of the book provides a clear and thorough description of bull raising, preliminary caping, the picing, quites, placing the banderillas, working with the muleta, and killing. Woven into the description, so that it is still easy to imagine that you are on the receiving end of a personal conversation, are strong opinions about what is the right way and what is the wrong way to execute the various phases of the bullfight.  As often as not, the points being made are emphasized with reference to matadors of the day, praising a few and verbally wounding many.  The fact that today’s readers will not have seen nor heard of most of the matadors makes some of the book less pertinent than may have been the case sixty or seventy years ago.

It intrigues me to wonder about some of the points being made.  Are they legitimate?  Have things changed so much that we don’t recognize what EH is saying?

Let me offer a few examples.

When the bull enters the ring, the matador’s assistants run the bull to reveal tendencies to hook one way or the other, etc.  Even I am old enough to remember when this was done, even though it is rarely done today.  But, EH goes on to state that when this is done, the cape should only be held in one hand to ensure a wide turn by the bull, thus preventing possible injury to the animal.  I have looked at a few movies that date back to the thirties, and I haven’t spotted that!

An even less believable contention is that the only way to assess the bull’s temperament when about to charge is by observing a twitching of his ear!  Have you ever noticed anything of the sort?  I haven’t, and despite other references to the gradual degeneration of bravery in bulls, I cannot imagine that such would change, so I am inclined to doubt the accuracy of such a statement.

I mention such things because the down side of DITA is that it does seem to include some real inaccuracies about what is true.  However, let’s not dwell on that because the preponderance of the material is both well written and, I believe, accurate.

And remember, this is Hemingway’s personal view.  As such it is more productive and interesting to consider some of his arguments which some might disagree with, but he certainly has the credibility and right to assert, albeit with little leeway for other viewpoints. 

The contention which I found most interesting is the view that the bullfight has degenerated by paying less attention to the kill and more to the work with the muleta during the faena, and that the art with the muleta is best exhibited when restrained to its most classic passes, the natural  and the pase de pecho.  As I pay attention to EH’s argument, I get the impression that he sees the bullfight more as a dangerous sport, where certain rules apply, and less as an art where different interpretations may have value.  Having listened to the debates between adherents to a style that is “classical” vs. those who are thrilled by the imagination and daring of a tremendista, I have no trouble considering EH’s opinion and then making up my own mind about how I feel.  What really intrigues me is wondering how EH might have reacted to Curro Romero, exemplar extraordinary of the classical style, but very inconsistent about displaying same when the bulls do not suit (another issue EH deplores.)

I cannot conclude this evaluation of DITA without a comment about the many black and white photos and the glossary which completes the book.  In particular, the glossary is a very good, very complete compilation and explanation of virtually all the words and expressions used in talking about the bullfight and the ambiance surrounding it. 

Will DEATH IN THE AFTERNOON continue at the top of our list of taurine books?  Who knows.  But, I for one, have a new appreciation for the book, a feeling that I have had a chance to sit across the table from Papa and hear him talk about something he loves, a very personal experience!

 Return to NEWS