Yesterday I went to my first bullfight. It was an afternoon packed full of extreme beauty and ugliness. The best adjective I can think of is “fuerte.”
First of all, I went with two very beautiful girls: my Italian neighbor, Sara, and my Spanish friend, Lola. Lola was our “aficionada” and told me all about the bullfights as well as gave me a Spanish bullfight vocab lesson, which I will try to relay to you here. She said she has been attending bullfights since she was very young and has a great love for them however, she fears that in a few years there will be no more bullfights in Spain.
At six o’clock we crammed into the bullring (La Plaza de Toros in Granada). It was a big beautiful brick bullring built in the thirties (about the time Hemingway was hanging out here.) It had three steep levels of stands. My friends and I were on the top level and it was crammed. I felt like we might all fall off onto the sand and blood cover floor of the bullring at any moment! The entire three hours I was there I was squished between Lola to my left, some French guy to my right (who was spitting sunflower seeds the whole time. They got all over me!), my back was between the knees of an old fat Spanish guy and between my knees was the back of some young fat Spanish guy. Even in these close proximities, everyone was eating, drinking and smoking to excess. In Spain I’m in the process of learning to let go of several things, one of them being my personal space. Just to be surrounded by so many people in that way, with big energetic faces, gobbling down “bocadillos” (sandwiches) and “vino tinto” (red wine) and cheering at the same time, it gave you that worried and irreversible feeling you get in a dream when you realize the dream is out of your hands. At some point you have to relax and go along with it and forget about your individuality for a bit. I think that’s one beauty that is often missed in the US; the pagan power and energy of antiquity that comes from having so many people packed tight and chanting in unison. (Another good European example of this are the discos!) Sure, football games are a similar phenomena but I don’t think you could say that people share themselves among the group like they do here. The Spanish verb to cheer is “animar,” to animate. The crowd is as much a part of bullfighting as the bullfighter and his bull.
Anyway, the bullfight started with a procession of all the bullfighters and helpers involved. Then two men came out on horseback with purple velvet costumes to signal the official star. By the time it was all over eight men had killed eight bulls. (The usual number is six but this was a special case, I think because it was the first one of the season or some of the fighters were still amateurs.)
The dynamics of bullfighting are as artful as anything. The agile movements of the bullfighters put up against the sheer strength of the bulls is very much an artistic expression. The bull starts out running through the ring, charging at some of the helpers’ red capes. An equestrian comes out on an armored steed and the bull charges at him. This is done for five minutes or so before one of the helpers puts the 4 to 6 “banderillas” in his back. (Short barb-tipped spears colored with the colors of Spain and Andalusia’s flags) Lola told me they are not used, as I had thought, to tire the bull for the bullfighter, but rather to bring down his blood pressure a bit. The excitement of the bullfight would be too much and the bull would die of a heart attack without them.
The placing of the banderillas in the bull is impressive. The helper has to run backwards and jump in front of the bull as he charges, stabbing two spears at a time with both hands into the bull’s shoulders. This part looks very much like a dance, he leaps like a ballerina to stab and then continues running backwards, watching the angry bull, sometimes close enough to put a hand between the bull’s horns.
When the bandarillas have been placed, the bullfighter comes out. He throws his hat into the center of the ring and shouts to the audience and they shout back, “animating” him. He passes the bull back and forth with his cape, trying to get as close as possible to the horns. The more smoothly he moves and the closer he gets without using any fancy tricks, the more “valiente” he is and that is what the judges like. Each good pass receives an “¡olé!” from the audience.
At the end, when both the bull and the bullfighter are very tired, the bullfighter has to kill the bull. He stands in front of the bull and lines up his sword (espalda) for the crucial spot between the bull’s neck and shoulders. He charges at the bull and the bull charges back. He drives the sword all the way through and the bull starts “poniéndose de mano” or bucking. When done right, the bull dies quickly by falling forward onto his knees. He is draged off through the sand by two large horses called "mulas."
If the bullfighter performs well, he receives one or two of the bulls ears, and maybe the tail; all of which he throws into the stands. Also, a good fighter receives “botas” or leather bags of wine, hats and flowers thrown from the crowd. The audience will wave white handkerchiefs to communicate to the judges that they liked the fight. The bullfighter makes a leisurely victory lap around the ring to receive all his praise.
The bullfighters wear a traditional suite called “traje de luces,” or suite of lights. This may seem like an ironic name for the suite for someone with such a dark profession of fighting and killing and who by the end of each fight is covered in blood. The truth is that in no Spanish description of bullfighters or bullfights do they use the word “fight.” It’s really more of a dance than a fight. Bullfighter is “torero.” “Matador” means killer in Spanish but here they only say “torero.” Simply, “bull-man” is the best literal translation I can summon. And bullfight is “la corrida,” meaning a “run” or “dash,” and also, interesting enough, “continuous.” (Ah, ¡Así es la vida!)
It is a beautiful and terrible thing to behold but life brings us these extremes in the very same way. You cannot ignore them or write them off just because you’re not in the mood to deal with them. At some point we all must live, love and die. A bullfight represents these fundamental parts of the human experience in a bold, no nonsense way and I like it.
But yes I would agree, there are many issues to be taken against the corrida. The most valid I can think of being the spectacle of it but humans kill animals every day, the only difference is that it is done in cages or behind fences so we don’t see the killing. In contrast to most the domestic animal world, corrida bulls live privileged lives. They are well fed and given lots of space and freedom. They live and die respectfully.
I can understand how when people come together to watch and enjoy the act of killing, it brings up a moral question; “Is this really acceptable of civilized humans?” And it was indeed uncomfortable for me to hear people laughing about the killings or shouting things to the toreros like “Hey good-lookin’, kill him already!” But I feel I am in no place to judge. This is a very old tradition in Spain and people here identify with it. It is a part of their culture. Even if it is cruel and wasteful by Anglo-Saxon standards (although we manage to be very cruel and wasteful in our own ways), humans need things like this. The killing helps many Spaniards live because it is a tradition and brings them meaning. (Meaningfulness: a topic I will get back to with the science blogs, just wait.)
Throughout Europe, cultural conservatives, like Lola, are feeling the strains of globalization and the diluting of their cultures. The corrida is “a high point of darkness and light.” (to quote a Bob Dylan song out of context.) To get rid of it would rid a people of a beautiful thing and isolate them from their past. Outsiders have no say in it.
Yes, bullfighting is a spectacle of killing but it is done respectfully, artistically and beautifully. It is a bold image of strength and love for life. It is an ingenious portrait of life’s main and most powerful themes. It is an art, an expression, like no other.
PS
I realize this is a rather extreme view. As always, I would really like to see some comments. What do you guys think?!
