DANCER WITH DEATH

Otago Daily Times, Issue 22368, 15 September 1934, Page 4

DANCER WITH DEATH

THE STORY OF BELMONTE " Belmonte the Matador." By Henry Baerleln. Illustrated. Loudon: Thornton Butterworth. (16s net.) The average Spaniard, who loves the bullfight with a passion surpassing that of man for woman, does not now attempt to explain his enthusiasm to the average Anglo-Saxon, who regards it with violent disapprobation. Between the aficionado and the humanitarian there is fixed a great gulf. If we say that Henry Baerleiu bridges it in- his chronicle, “ Belmonte, the Matador,” it is with no desire to suggest that Anglo-Saxon instincts' are mistaken. The bull-ring, or what .the Spaniards call " the sarnie of God;” has close affinities with the slaughter house. A hooked trout has an even chance of breaking away;-the fox may escape to cover (and may be dug out when earthed); the stag possibly can evade the. hunters (and possibly may drown in the attempt); but few bulls are spared at a fiesta. But Henry Baerlein, if he cannot reconcile his readers to the aspects, of bull-fighting which they loathe, can communicate the thrill of these contests between man and beast; if he cannot condone the brutalities of the exhibition, he can glorify the performers in it. In Spain, bull-fight-mg is a religion, apd those with tolerance must cede its fascination, even while deploring its savagery.Juan Belmonte, who had retired from the ring, full of honours at 42, when this story of his life was written, has returned to it again. The cablegrams this month carried an account of an accident during a recent .fight in which he faced an “infuriated bull.” But Belmonte, whose scars are so numerous that an English visitor, seeing him stripped, fled from the. sight in horror, is not only an active matador, but a legend. Says Don Modesto, the great critic, in a report which convinces ns of the passionate interest of the Spaniard in his bull-fighting heroes; — He is ugly, very ugly, with bowed shoulders; rather bandy-legged, and with an excessive chin. But, gentlemen, he was made by God, and when he begins with the cape and when he unfolds his marvellous muleta he reminds us of his divine origin. While a woman in a little Shop told Baerlein: —

And what with that [his large jaw]

and his large nose, one sees why they reproach him with his ugliness. But there is eloquence in his dark eyes. And when he stands before a bull his ugliness ... is gone—l saw it somewhere that he is the priest exalted by

the mysteries in which he is engaged. And others say he is the dancer who is caught up by the music of the greatest dance, a lovely dance it should be and most intricate, where a wrong step is penalised by death.

Belmonte was borne in Seville, a rickety child and a bookworm. While his'easygoing father was able to support him he lived in idleness. He was “ studying,” his father announced'. But all Belmonte’s study was confined to the bullpen across the Guadalquivir, which he swam with hi s friends at night to play the disturbed bulls naked. Then, his father having allowed his casual business to go so to seed that the family was sent to the poorhouse, he called on Belmonte to contribute to the exchequer. Against all advice, the bandy-legged youngster determined .to become a bull-fighter. A veteran banderillero suspected his genius. He was made to walk with an iron rod in his hand to strengthen his legs, and when he went driving with some ladies his trainer pursued the carriage and dragged Belmonte away from them. After his first appearance in the ring at Seville the excited populace carried him home in triumph. Soon he appeared in Valencia, for 80 pesetos, where, fifteen years later, he received 35,000 pesetos for au afternoon. He revived the ancient glory of the bull-fight. No matador has fought so close: —

When the bull was roused and would have swept him from the path he was not more than half an inch away, so the bull and the spectators had the very acme of emotion. . . . His body almost lay upon the horns. Another millimetre, so it seemed, and death would have come to him. . . .

This story of Belmonte’s rise to fame, of his conquests arid his adventures, is not written, as was Hemingway’s “ Death In the Afternoon,” as an apologia for bullfighting. It is a book which the student of that foreign art will revel in, but others may read it with delight for Baerlein’s- prose, while retaining an open mind upon the question of the delights the ring offers. As to though, Baerlein is aficionado he does not insist that we should join him in his enthusiasms. But bull-fighting in Spain, ho is certain, will not die. In the lean pre-Belmonte years the ring was failing of its appeal, “and many foreign persons said, with grim delight, that Spaniards wanted to be just as civilised as they themselves and so were turning from the bulls,” but with his advent all that changed, and

changed it will remain so long as there is a matador to approach him in daring, grace, “emotion.” The book contains photographs and some spirited drawings. The Author Henry Baerlein, aged 60, was born in Manchester, educated at Charterhouse, and Trinity, College, Cambridge, has travelled long and widely, especially in the Near East, Mexico, Spain, and Central Europe, and written extensively about these countries. He is an accomplished linguist, but uncommunicative concerning himself. “Henry Baerlein,” he declares, “has this resemblance to a happy country in that he is rather devoid of history.” J. M.