From the pages of El Mandarín, Madrid's Chinese newspaper in Spanish
Friday, October 24, 2008
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
got steak?
Beauty in a flurry of capes, blood and near misses. The drawing of first blood from a spear thrust by a man on top of an armored horse made me shift uncomfortably in my seat. A dark stream appeared on the black hide of the majestic beast, running down its side. And then the matador came on scene with sword and cape and commenced the age old dance between man and beast. The matador arching his back, mocking the beast, taunting it and yet seemingly in complete control. With each pass of the cape, man and beast grew closer and closer till they moved as one. The crowd cheered, I cheered. The juxtaposition of sheer unbridled bestial strength and a man in shiney clothing culminated in the final pass with the matador's body grazing the side of the beast and in a graceful twist, he rests his sword flat side up on the bull's head. All was still, man and his tool had once again tamed the beast.
The matador withdrew while the ring still echoed with cheers, exchanging his sword for the one that will bring death. After a few passes, he stops and raises his sword to his face, staring straight at the bull head-on. Taunting it for the final time, he surges forward and plunges his sword into the beast's back. Caught up in a flurry of capes that suddenly enter the ring, the bull flails around in a trance-like state, the spears bouncing on its side and the hilt of the sword visible in its hide. It soon gives up the fight and collapses to its knees, defeated. A dagger appears and is plunged into the back of its head, uno, dos, tres and then it dies as it was supposed to. A white handkerchief appears in the crowd, then two and then the whole crowd is a sea of waving white cloth.
The matador withdrew while the ring still echoed with cheers, exchanging his sword for the one that will bring death. After a few passes, he stops and raises his sword to his face, staring straight at the bull head-on. Taunting it for the final time, he surges forward and plunges his sword into the beast's back. Caught up in a flurry of capes that suddenly enter the ring, the bull flails around in a trance-like state, the spears bouncing on its side and the hilt of the sword visible in its hide. It soon gives up the fight and collapses to its knees, defeated. A dagger appears and is plunged into the back of its head, uno, dos, tres and then it dies as it was supposed to. A white handkerchief appears in the crowd, then two and then the whole crowd is a sea of waving white cloth.
