Death in the Afternoon - Ernest Hemingway

“I was trying to learn to write, commencing with the simplest things, and one of the simplest things of all and the most fundamental is violent death.”

-        Ernest Hemingway, Death in the Afternoon

 Death in the Afternoon is a non-fiction piece of literature written by Ernest Hemingway in 1932.  It is a treatise on the ceremony and traditions of Spanish Bull Fighting.  Hemingway was well known for having a fascination with death, danger and courage and as such he was attracted to all of this on display in the Bull Ring.  He seemed to view it as of microcosm of life, an artful and poetic rendering of courage and death played out before the audience. 

Hemingway became a bullfighting aficionado after seeing the Pamplona fiesta in the 1920’s, which serves as the setting of one of his most popular novels, The Sun Also Rises.  In Death in the Afternoon, he explores the metaphysics of bullfighting, which is a ritualized almost religious practice that he considered analogous with the writer’s search for the meaning and essence of life.

Seen through his eyes, bullfighting becomes a richly choregraphed ballet, with performers who range from awkward amateurs to masters of great elegance and cunning.  A fascinating look at the history and grandeur of bullfighting, Death in the Afternoon is also a deeper contemplation of the nature of cowardice and bravery, sport and tragedy.

I enjoyed this book; however, it was more difficult for me to read and not quite as enjoyable as the rest of the Hemingway canon.  It at times feels laborious going back and forth between detailed descriptions of all aspect’s bullfighting and his contemplations about life and the struggles of being a writer.  In this particular book, his hard, clean prose is not as energetic as in other novels.  In Death in the Afternoon he has a tendency at times to ramble and jump all over the place.  It is still an enjoyable book and I consider it a “must read” as it reveals so much about Hemingway; however, it does not have the “cleanness” of the prose that I have come to enjoy in his fiction.