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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Comedy · #1985614
Bull Back In Time to Influence 20th Century Lit. (SHORT Story)
Please permit me to introduce myself.

I am a writing bull and my name is Hooves.

My human likes to travel and sometimes she convinces me to accompany her. This was one of those times, only the travel would have to be time travel by some sort of steam powered machine.

She, who must be listened to (my human), saw a movie called, "Midnight in Paris." She became obsessed with writers of the 1920's, particularly Ernest Hemingway. She and I both started reading about his life and adventures. At this point, I packed my beret and waited patiently for the travel plans to come together. I assumed Paris would be our destination, but I was wrong.

My human discovered that Mr. Hemingway had an intense interest in bulls. He wrote short stories about bullfights and attended the San Fermin Festival in Pamplona, Spain, several times in the 1920's. In his famous novel, "The Sun Also Rises," he memorialized the legendary activity of running with the bulls.

I knew this was a smart man because he never ran with any bulls. No, indeed! He only watched and observed from a hotel window.

"Look here, Hooves!" my human exclaimed. "This is your big chance to go to Spain. They love bulls over there! You can make a lot of new friends and run around with them!"

Who was she kidding?

I turned around so that she was staring at my hindquarters. I knew that Mr. Hemingway had also written the prophetic novel, "Death in the Afternoon."

To get anywhere near a bullfight meant only one thing for a bull and that wasn't prancing around the streets of Pamplona. No, it had to do with a sword plunged deep into tender loins.

Then, my human played her trump card.

"Hooves, you get to go into a time machine and go back in time, like in 'Midnight in Paris.' You can meet Ernest Hemingway and maybe influence his writing. You can win his admiration and sympathy, maybe - you know, influence him by putting in a good snort for your brother bulls."

Next thing I know, I am wearing that beret and moseying up to a cafe where sits Mr. Ernest Hemingway, and a group of his writing com padres.

Hemingway looked at me. I looked at him, my eyes telling the tale of my kind.

"What a fine, noble bull!" Mr. Hemingway stated correctly.

"I think he looks a little like Gertrude Stein, in that beret," muttered one of his drunkard writer friends.

I snorted in a fine, noble, and inspiring way.

"Don't you see?" Hemingway continued.

"The tragedy is in his eyes. So noble! So brave! There is no way out for the bull! The bull is a tragic figure in the bullfight! His doom is inevitable. He has no choice, but to face it. Yes, my friend," he said to me and me alone.

"Yes, I will write your sadness and your bravery. I will tell your story. By God, I will!"

I nodded to him in a noble, fine way, with a touch of tragedy. I knew we were simpatico that afternoon in Spain.

My work for twentieth century literature was done for that day as my eyes met those of Hemingway. As the sun set below the horizon, I would be memorialized for all eternity as the noble bull, noble and fine.

So, when you read a Hemingway story, just know this. All his noble, fine, or tragic characters are right here in the eyes of Hooves.

I am the noble bull that legends are made of.


Note: One of Hemingway's first novels was "The Sun Also Rises", thus my item title was born. It is interesting to realize how many are unfamiliar with Hemingway's work even though he is the most widely known author ever to write in the English language. When I went to college, "The Sun Also Rises" was required first year reading. I don't know if it still is. I hope it is because Ernest Hemingway is my favorite author and he changed the way I look at reading and literature forever.

The easily offended woke crowd will never appreciate Hemingway.

That makes him even greater in my books. Pulitzer Prize and Nobel Prize for Literature. Not bad for a guy from Oak Park, Illinois.

I had some of my worst reviews for this, one of my best efforts here. Go figure. I could name names. Maybe I will someday.

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