Puerta del Principe
How do you feel about bullfighting? Is it ‘tradition’ and therefore acceptable or is it archaic and due to be done away with? Is there a middle ground? Our guest writer in Seville, Fiona, looks at one side of bullfighting in Andalusia.
By Fiona Flores Watson
There are many topics which cause heated debate in Spain: where the best jamón comes from (Jabugo in Aracena, apparently; I don’t eat meat myself); whether singer Isabel Pantoja will, or should, go to prison for her alleged involvement in the Malaya affair – bribery and corruption in the Marbella town hall; whether Spain will, or should, leave the euro.
Some of these discussions are extremely relevant for those of us who have chosen to live in Spain, while others are less gripping. One moral issue which ignites the passions of those who don’t live here, more than those who do (in my experience, at least), is bullfighting.
As someone who detests all bloodsports (a sentiment born from experience, in childhood), and as a ‘fishetarian’, I have always found it abhorrent. I’ve read Fiesta and Death in the Afternoon, Hemingway’s books about la corrida (bullfights); interviewed a torero (bullfighter); and been to a bullfight. Having deliberated for years – I arrived in 2003, but it was 2010 before I took a seat in the Maestranza – and endlessly justified my reasons for not going, I realised that, as a journalist, seeing it for myself was unavoidable. So when a friend offered me some unwanted tickets for free, I took them gratefully, at least escaping having to pay to sit through something I didn’t even want to see.
It was a rainy day in Semana Santa and the toreros on show were novilleros (novices); I only managed to watch one of the three – seeing two (of six) bulls killed, messily, was enough, so perhaps it wasn’t the best introduction. There wasn’t much art to it; it didn’t take an expert eye to see that. Getting stern, disapproving looks from aficionados (fans) seated nearby, I marched out declaiming loudly as the second bloodied beast was dragged away by mules after a slow, agonizing death.
Curve of Ring
But my interest has been rekindled (perhaps now the memories have faded) by a book called Into The Arena: The World of the Spanish Bullfight, by the English writer Alexander Fiske-Harrison. He underwent training and spoke to many fighters, breeders and others involved in the taurine world, as well as those in the opposite camp. While his arrogance and sense of entitlement grate, you have to hand it to him: Fiske-Harrison has gained access where few non-Spanish authors have managed – to the heart of the fiesta, fighting (and killing) bulls himself, and writing about it compellingly and with fascinating, colourful descriptions and entertaining anecdotes (my personal favourite: full-on drinking sessions and nights of madness with a famous bullfighter).
So here lies the moral dilemma: is it OK to be interested in something you find physically repellent and morally indefensible? In the book, he goes into detail about strategy: why the bullfighter moves his cape in a certain way, at a certain point in the carefully structured stages of the fight, to make the bull perform certain actions. You can’t deny that it’s fascinating to learn about the bull’s psyche, and how the torero has to read the animal from the moment the beast enters the ring – (does he use his left or right horn?); on the farm, bulls never see a person on foot, only on horseback – until they come face to face with the bullfighter. The whole sorry spectacle began to make a lot more sense once I read this, but should I enjoy being better informed about something I don’t approve of? As a journalist who wants to learn as much as I can about every aspect of Spain, its culture, and especially what makes Seville and Andalucia – my (adopted) parish – tick, can I justify it?
Most people who are against the art, sport, whatever you prefer to call it, don’t want to know – or if they do, it’s to support their views of its barbarity, rather than out of curiosity. I found the stabbing, bleeding and killing of the bull – badly botched for both animals at the event I attended – excessively cruel and shockingly gory. Bullfighting is brutal, and personally I’d support a nationwide ban (it’s already been made illegal in Catalonia and the Canary Islands). But it’s also part of Spanish culture, so is it wrong to read about it how it’s done? Especially the psychological aspect, of both bull and man.
Discussions inspired by blog posts about the topic make fascinating reading – in one comment, a reader said that she had been enjoying the writer’s work, until she saw he’d “actually killed a bull” himself, which made her “really angry”. What are the degrees of moral responsibility between supporting bullfighting, attending a bullfight and sticking the sword in yourself? Is it that much worse to be involved, than to watch? Is the audience as much to blame as the bullfighter? When a well-known newspaper columnist came out to Spain to write an article about Fiske-Harrison’s exploits, the trainee bullfighter refused to be photographed with a dead bull (not killed by him) for fear of middle England’s reaction – the stigma is too great, whatever your own personal beliefs. Acceptable to read an animal that’s been killed for sport about over Saturday breakfast? Yes. Acceptable to look at the photos over Saturday breakfast? No.
Bull Charging at Cape
Personal and professional clash (less) violently in my interest in this oh-so-Spanish pursuit, which turns “a violent death into a public spectacle”, as Fiske-Harrison describes it, making it sound like something from the Inquisition – which, coincidentally, started in Seville. Death, (religious) passion, brutality, danger: all integral to Spanish life. Am I a hypocrite for wanting to delve deeper? Especially since I’m keen never to see another bull die in the ring?
Fiona Flores Watson is a journalist and blogger who lives in Seville and writes for various websites, magazines and newspapers, as well as her own blog, Scribbler in Seville. After nine years, with two bilingual children and an andaluz husband under her belt, she’s still keen to try everything Andalucian, from fiestas to flamenco, but draws the line at bullfighting (in practice, anyway).
12 Comments
An interesting article. I’m in the against camp myself, being a softy. I’m not vegetarian but I am very fussy about my meat and its sourcing from well-cared for animals. I live mostly on vegetables and fish.
Although against, what I don’t like about much of the debate is the apparent willingness on behalf of activists to describe supporters of the “art” as animals, or sick, or murderous. It doesn’t help. The language should be measured. Accelerating change is about hearts and minds, not accusation or condemnation.
When the Romans arrived in Spain, they described their encounter with a people who were obsessed with bulls. The Romans. So although modern bullfighting is a more recent development, this goes back a long way.
There are and have been awful bloodsports in just about every country. I want bullfighting to go and I believe it will, but I also believe we should promote its cessation without demonising Andalucians and other interested Spaniards with insulting or patronising condemnations.
The justifications for bullfighting, however misguided, are sincere and often follow the usual urban vs rural divide. It should be noted that not all that many Spanish people have any interest in bullfighting – it’s an interest of a minority. Among that minority, the belief that toros bravos are adrenalin-fuelled killing machines who are glorified in the ring and die a noble death would appear to be sincere.
For any that give this particular justification any credence, I would strongly urge you to take a look at the following link, or any other of the short films on youtube that involve Fadjen, the bull.
http://www.youtube.com/embed/YCX5X7OuV0o?version=3&modestbranding=1&fs=0&rel=0&showinfo=1&wmode=opaque
A ‘neat’ piece, yes, but a couple of points:
“Arrogance and entitlement”? Obviously I don’t think so. However, I have heard it argued, convincingly, that to publish at all is to presume that your view is far enough above others that it should receive a wider audience – which is, in a sense, arrogance and entitlement.
However, before you publish, you should first get your facts in order. When you say,
“When a well-known newspaper columnist came out to Spain to write an article about Fiske-Harrison’s exploits, the trainee bullfighter refused to be photographed with a dead bull (not killed by him) for fear of middle England’s reaction.”
You are wildly misrepresenting what happened there and what the columnist, Giles Coren said. The article is in full on my blog, ‘The Last Arena: The World Of The Spanish Bullfight’ and what it says is this:
“I remember that I need a photo of Xander and the dead bull…He is desperately uneasy about it. I know he does not want to be seen to be claiming another man’s kill. ”
Coren wanted the photo of a dead bull – the reverse of what you say – while I didn’t want it to look like I was claiming to have killed that animal. (The man who had killed it didn’t want the photos to happen at all as they were disrespectful of the bull.)
As for the overall thrust of the piece: last night I watched Ralph Fiennes’ film version of the William Shakespeare play ‘Coriolanus’. At the centre of this play, both in what it depicts and what it analyses, is war. The vast majority of people who have watched this story in the past four centuries, including myself, deplore ‘war’. Ask yourself this, “Are they hypocrites for wanting to delve deeper?” No. Would they be hypocrites for denying there is a fundamental, hard-wired neurological attraction for a species with a predatory past? Yes. Should someone arrogant and entitled enough to broadcast there views in public delve even deeper than others into this trait? Of course…
My understanding was very much that Coren did want the photo of the bull, and you didn’t. Am I wrong? Apologies if I misunderstood the motives. It is, as always, a deeply sensitive subject.
Great writing Fiona and very impressive that you went to see the Corrida before writing about it.
As someone who’s loves nearly all things Spanish and as someone who’s happy to kill things in order to eat them, I don’t find bullfighting in the least bit attractive or clever. The bull has been tortured and half killed by the time it faces a matador, so I don’t see it as a fair fight.
I believe that the Emperor Claudius introduced Bull-leaping to the Roman arena (from Crete), when the coffers were bare, to cut back on the expense of lions and tigers. Since Bull-leaping is still practiced in Spain as href=”http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bullfighting#Recortes” target=”_blank”>Recortes I find it easy to believe that bull-leaping/bullfighting most likely came from Rome. In Recortes, the skill is in an athlete’s ability to leap over a healthy bull – there’s no blood, cruelty or death for the animals involved.
Whilst bullfighting is not to my liking, Spain is not my country or culture and I would not presume to tell tell the Spanish how to live. Similarly, I don’t not expect others to necessarily agree with my opinion. Personally I’d love to see bullfighting go out of fashion as the result of a big surge in the popularity of bull-leaping.
Sorry, I screwed up my
Recortes link above.
Well, this is a tricky one.
I count myself a good friend of both Fiona and Xander, and I can see why you have different views.
One thing you have in common, that I applaud, is a willingness to look closely into something that others, out of understandable fear and loathing, turn away from… Well done both.
Well Fiona you clearly love Bullfighting in as much as you sense the wicked and immoral primal rush it brings. I suggest you don’t delve too deep you might not like what you find.
Its one of the world’s worst kept secrets that many humans are drawn to the spectacle by the very sadism and cruelty of it, the very same sadism and cruelty which is dressed up and sometimes mistaken for aesthetic pleasure.
Bullfighting. Res ipsa locquitur.
Oops did I touch a chord there?
I have looked at your other work accross the web. Nowhere do you condemn Bullfighting infact you are most helpful to would be attendees. I also would describe it as irresistible. I am a fan also!
Bob
Bob, where did you get the impression that Fiona is into bullfighting? Not sure that’s what she was trying to convey. To each their own!
Thanks,
R
Fascinating article Fiona, and an particularly interesting comments board too.
Doubt you should be worried about your dilemma. After all, Nazis are the no.1 topic for documentaries. . .
Great comments above re: Fadjen the fighting bull. And re: not judging the Spanish too harshly – many of them were born into a culture with no concept that cruelty to animals is wrong.
No such excuse for Fiske Harrison of course, coming from a country in which his treatment of his (tiny) bull would have earned him a prison sentence.
Most revealing stuff from ‘Sideshow’ Bob Newhart above. Deeply creepy – but honest.
MUST READ: This review of AFH’s book from the Times Literary Supplement:
http://www.the-tls.co.uk/tls/public/article786066.ece
I should clarify that the “honesty” of Bob Newhart I refer to is in his revealing his own loathsomeness. His accusation towards Fiona is of course fatuous.
Well if you want to delve deeper into the world of bullfighting that’s great, but if you don’t want to see another bull die then it’s going to be difficult.