It was 5 in the afternoon

When the pier forms collapsed under crumpling sound of daisies, I realized that they had murdered me. They combed the cafes, the graveyards, the churches; they pried open coffins and ransacked chests and cabinets. They smashed 3 skulls to rip out their gold teeth, but they couldn't find me. They couldn't find me. No, they couldn't find me.


LA COGIDA Y LA MUERTE

A las cinco de la tarde.
Eran las cinco en punto de la tarde.
Un niño trajo la blanca sábana
a las cinco de la tarde.
Una espuerta de cal ya prevenida
a las cinco de la tarde.
Lo demás era muerte y sólo muerte
a las cinco de la tarde.

El viento se llevó los algodones
a las cinco de la tarde.
Y el óxido sembró cristal y níquel
a las cinco de la tarde.
Ya luchan la paloma y el leopardo
a las cinco de la tarde.
Y un muslo con un asta desolada
a las cinco de la tarde.
Comenzaron los sones de bordón
a las cinco de la tarde.
Las campanas de arsénico y el humo
a las cinco de la tarde.
En las esquinas grupos de silencio
a las cinco de la tarde.
¡Y el toro solo corazón arriba!
a las cinco de la tarde.
Cuando el sudor de nieve fue llegando
a las cinco de la tarde
cuando la plaza se cubrió de yodo
a las cinco de la tarde,
la muerte puso huevos en la herida
a las cinco de la tarde.
A las cinco de la tarde.
A las cinco en Punto de la tarde.

Un ataúd con ruedas es la cama
a las cinco de la tarde.
Huesos y flautas suenan en su oído
a las cinco de la tarde.
El toro ya mugía por su frente
a las cinco de la tarde.
El cuarto se irisaba de agonía
a las cinco de la tarde.
A lo lejos ya viene la gangrena
a las cinco de la tarde.
Trompa de lirio por las verdes ingles
a las cinco de la tarde.
Las heridas quemaban como soles
a las cinco de la tarde,
y el gentío rompía las ventanas
a las cinco de la tarde.
A las cinco de la tarde.
¡Ay, qué terribles cinco de la tarde!
¡Eran las cinco en todos los relojes!
¡Eran las cinco en sombra de la tarde!


Federico García Lorca, 1935

The Pogues: Lorca's Novena (English)

¿ Que ?

No hablo Español...

It's about the death of a famous bullfighter at 5 in the afternoon, and the chilling news as it circulates through the country.

Frederico Garcia Lorca was one of the most influential artists of the early 20th century. Kind of a tortured soul, by his political beliefs, and Catholic guilt about his homosexuality, he was killed for some unknown reason in the civil war in 1936.

Play the reading of the poem by Andrew Garcia (cuban actor from Godfather III).

Ernest Hemingway was a diehard bullfight fan. He wrote 'Death in the Afternoon' in 1932.

"The chances are that the first bullfight any spectator attends may not be a good one artistically; for that to happen there must be good bullfighters and good bulls; artistic bullfighters and poor bulls do not make interesting fights, for the bullfighter who has ability to do extraordinary things with the bull which are capable of producing the intensest degree of emotion in the spectator but will not attempt them with a bull which he cannot depend on to charge..."

– Ernest Hemingway, from "Death in the Afternoon"

The book is fantastic, as are most of Hemingway's works. Bullfighting today is a shadow of what it was in the 1920's. Hemingway loved Spain and the macho culture there. I probably have 25 books on the author, he's the most written about writer of the 20th century.

García was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor for his role as Vincent Mancini in The Godfather Part III.

Quote: EvenBob

Ernest Hemingway was a diehard bullfight fan. He wrote 'Death in the Afternoon' in 1932.

Ignacio Sanchez Mejias, was one of the most celebrated bullfighters of the period, but he actually died in an afternoon in 1934, after Hemingway's book was published. The poem by Frederico Garcia Lorca, "5 in the afternoon", was the most famous works of arts commemorating the death of Mejias. Garcia Lorca would himself by murdered a few years later with a note tacked to his death that he was executed for his politics and his homosexuality.

Hemingway's favorite was Antonio Ordóñez. They were close, long time friends. Hemingway wrote an account of Ordonez's rivalry with the matador Luis Miguel Dominguin in a story called 'The Dangerous Summer.' Ernest would have these long 4 hour lunches in Spain, sitting outdoors at a large table with friends, and the wine and stories flowed freely. People who were lucky enough to be there still talk about it today. Hemingway loved the Spanish culture, thats why he lived in Cuba for 21 years. He's a national hero there, even more so today.

Thanks for the reminder... was at the local second book sale today and picked up some Hemingway I'd not read.

Best novel, The Sun Also Rises. Next is For Whom the Bell Tolls. His short stories are fantastic, you can get all of them in one paperback book. His secret to writing was what he called the 'iceberg effect', you leave most of what you want to say unwritten. He would get up early in the morning and read all that he had written up to that point, if he was writing a novel. He would rewrite as he went along, and he did this every day. Its immensely boring to do this and very tedious, he called it 'breaking the back' of the book. If he'd written 6 chapters, he'd only go back t chapter 2, and so on. He wasn't rewriting as much as eliminating uneeded words and sentences, paring it down to its essence. His writing is nothing less than delightful. He could write a 3 page story that conveys so much information, there have been college classes that revolved around just 2 or 3 of his stories. Read 'Big Two-Hearted River', its Hemingway at his finest.

I loved "For whom the bell tolls", which had such powerful imagery, that the scenes are in my head incredibly clearly (and probably completely different from what other people see, which is not a problem at all). I might head back tomorrow and see if short stories are still there.

I much prefer the short story as a form, as it causes the writer to work under a constraint. And I probably have a short attention span...

Read 'Cat in the Rain' when you get the book. Its very short and pure genius. There is so much there, in so few words. Hemingway was at his best in his 20's and 30's, as are many writers. His 3rd wife, Martha Gelhorn, who hated him, told him in the early 40's that nobody would be reading him anymore in 10 years. The truth is, they will be reading Hemingway 1000 years from now. There's a Hemingway writing contest every year in Key West. The winning entries always sound just like him. The point is, when he was doing it, he was the original, he wasn't copying anybody.

I really liked the "Nick Adams" stories. The edition that puts them all together is cool 'cause you can get some semblance of a chronological narrative (though he didn't intend that I think). Didn't hurt that I used to vacation about 1.5 miles away from where the stories took place in Northern Michigan, and could walk to most of the places in the book. His family still has a place up there on Lake Walloon.

Quote: teddys

Didn't hurt that I used to vacation about 1.5 miles away from where the stories took place in Northern Michigan, and could walk to most of the places in the book. His family still has a place up there on Lake Walloon.

It was a hundred years ago that the Hemingway family vacationed there. The father was a doctor in Oak Park, IL. Northern MI was the big wilderness place to go in the summer for people in Chicago. Most people know that Ernest Hemingway killed himself 50 years ago this coming July. What they usually don't know is, his father, the doctor, killed himself also. And so did Ernest's brother, sister, and niece, Margot Hemingway. Depression runs in families. Ernest suffered from bouts of depression all his life, he called it being 'blackass', and you didn't want to be around when he was. His bad temper was legendary..

Who can identify where in Europe this sign is from? I need City and Country.

Quote: pacomartin

Who can identify where in Europe this sign is from? I need City and Country.

Pamplona Spain.

Quote: Wavy70

Pamplona Spain.

It is Spain, but it's not Pamplona. It's near another famous bullring. (not Madrid)

Seville.

I would love to visit the Key West of the 1930's, where Hemingway lived, before it was a tourist trap. Laid back, lazy culture, bars had wood floors and cold beer. Fish all morning on your boat in the Gulf and drink all afternoon in your favorite bar. I've been to Hemingway's house in Key West, but its not the same place, or even close to the same place. He loved to live places where the tourists didn't go. Paris in the 20's in the winter, Montana in the summer, Key West, and a deserted beach town in Cuba. We today can have no conception of how this man was envied by other men of his time. He was larger than life, he lived his life like other men only dreamed about. It would be impossible now, to be as world famous as he was and not have the press follow your every move. But in the 20's, 30's and 40's, the press left you completely alone if you wanted it that way. Imagine that.

Quote: pacomartin

It is Spain, but it's not Pamplona. It's near another famous bullring. (not Madrid)

Toledo?

It is Spain, but it's not Pamplona. It's near another famous bullring. (not Madrid)>>

Could be Ronda, he wrote about the town in Death in the Afternoon, I think. It has a really old and really nice bullring. They love him there.

Quote: EvenBob

Could be Ronda, he wrote about the town in Death in the Afternoon, I think. It has a really old and really nice bullring. They love him there.

The man knows his Hemmingway! The clifftop town of Ronda. The "New Bridge" (built 1751 - 1793 ) 390 ft high.

Hemingway said “There is one town that would be better ... to see your first bullfight in if you were only going to see one and that is Ronda.” It was 'For Whom the Bell Tolls' where he wrote about Ronda. Hemingway covered and fought a little in the Spanish Civil War. The peasants were trying to embrace socialism and Hemingway was very much on their side. He became disillusioned when he discovered many of those he became friends with changed after they got a little property and a few animals, by stealing it from rich land owners. They overnight became just like the people they were overthrowing, holding onto their new property with more resolve than the old owner ever had. Socialism only sounds good when you have nothing to lose, he found out.

Quote: EvenBob

It was 'For Whom the Bell Tolls' where he wrote about Ronda.

My understanding (without reading the book) is that the setting of the book is by Segovia northwest of Madrid. However, the pivotal scene in the book is based on a true event in that occurred in Ronda, where some 500 people, allegedly fascist sympathisers, were thrown into the surrounding gorge by a mob from a house that faced onto the cliffside.

Quote: pacomartin

My understanding (without reading the book) is that the setting of the book is by Segovia northwest of Madrid. However, the pivotal scene in the book is based on a true event in that occurred in Ronda, where some 500 people, allegedly fascist sympathisers, were thrown into the surrounding gorge by a mob from a house that faced onto the cliffside.

I haven't read the book in 30 years. You never read it? Its a treat, as is Sun Also Rises. Sun is better, both are excellent. Hemingway is a fascinating enigma; he was a bully and a braggart, married badly four times, ignored his children, was a drunk and an adventurer, and a writer who changed writing forever. I admire no man more than I admire him. Maybe its because no matter what he did, he did it well, and with no excuses.. Even to the point of putting the barrel of a shotgun in his mouth and blowing his brains out. He was always the main character in his life, right up to the point where he ended it..

Yesterday's Good Morning America had a segment on the Gold and Silver Pawn Shop with George Stephanopoulos getting the assignment. It was good, though not that different from the dozens that have come before it. What's interesting is that George purchased a first edition of For Whom the Bell Tolls. He wouldn't say what he paid because he's going to be on a future episode of Pawn Stars.