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5 of 5 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Ole, Gray, June 27, 2002
As a paradoxically resisting and admiring reader and teacher of Hemingway for many years, I opened Gary Gray's "Running with the Bulls" on a recent summer evening with a similar sense of ambivalence. Described to me earlier as "Under the Tuscan Sun on adrenaline," my post-read corrective of "Running with the Bulls" would be: "More like 'Under the Tuscan Sun' on testosterone"--and with far more passion, character, and heart than Francis Mayes' aesthetically gorgeous but rather icy treatise on Tuscany. From the start, Gray displays a charming lack of self-consciousness about the ways in which his perennial quest for running with the Pamplona bulls in the July festival of San Fermin positions him as a Hemingway wannabe'. The author nods often and authentically to how Don Ernesto's "The Sun Also Rises," "Death in the Afternoon," and "The Dangerous Summer," motivated his own, original 1980 visit to Pamplona--and continues to inform his annual treks. Even so, the Hemingway intertextuality of "Running with the Bulls," never annoys. As Gray narrates twenty-two years of his own American adventures in Spain, the reader is rewarded with a retrospective animated by Gray's considerably unique sensibility. As these 17 or 18 separate pilgrimages to Pamplona from 1980-2001 weave together to form a single narrative tapestry about Spain, bullfighting, Pamplonese food and bar and folk culture, what impressed me was the distinctiveness Gray gives each vignette, often separated by many years. From the 1980 side trip to Tangiers with his then fiancee, Katie O'Toole, to the 2001 San Fermin's "next generation" running with the bulls with Gray's two oldest daughters, the reader is rewarded with lucidly recollected and deliciously described sensous detail. From the poppy fields and olive groves in the Sierra Nevada Mountains to the numerous three-hour Spanish dinner with cocktails, wine, lamb, bull stew, scallops, flan and coffee (no paella?), Gray treats each meal, each bullfight, each side-trip and conversation with old American and new Pamplonan friends, with rich reverance, delivering them to the reader not as narrative description but as the stuff of life. Okay--so if this book has a flaw--and even the greatest of works does--it is the relentlessness of these details. By the second half of the book, without a larger personal tension or evolving historical, political, or social commentary to sustain them, the catalogues of bullfighting minutia, drinking escapades, and restaurant fare begin to function in the reader's imagination more as accounting ledgers than the rich layers of story-telling. But given how much the author is drinking and how little he is sleeping on this collage of separate trips, his ability to recall how a particular torero worked the bull in 1987, or the specific quality of a salty ham appetizer and rioja reserva wine in 1991, astounds and impresses. That said, the second half of the book often repeats rather than develops the themes of the travelogue's first part--at that point, I resisted the impulse to skim. But his book is so much more that an American hedonist's journal of Pamplonan bullfighting and festivals. I deeply admired the spiritual structure of the work. If Hemingway's and Gray's bullfighting rings are existential metaphors for the passion of life and the terrible but noble inevitabiltiy of death, Gray shows himself by book's end as adept if secualr a metaphysician as he is a partyer. Punctuating twenty-some years of narrative revelry in this text is a well-narrated political assisination, the birth of Gray's six children and the deaths of many more bulls. The work ends with a bittersweet memento morti as Gray meditates on the death of an elderly restaurateur and a young and dashing torero--both of whom had lived with what Gray values supremely, lives, and gives as a significant gift to his reader in each page of "Running with the Bulls"--aficion.
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