Unless otherwise noted, Copyright
James C. Hess
2009. All Rights Reserved. Published by Thinking Rock Press, with written permission from the author.
THE KILLING OF the sacred bull is known as "Tauromachy". A bloodsport undeniably depraved and perverted in nature, a devout contemplation and deep meditation on the nature of cowardice and bravery, tragedy and honor, and a crudely choreographed celebration of brutality, cruelty, and nihilism; it is a confusing and contradictory activity, for superficially there is no logic or reason to it. Nor value or merit.
Yet great literary minds and unequaled artistic talents persist in studying the act involved to the point it encourages the manifestation of madness and obsession. The writer Ernest Hemingway devoted an book entitled Death in the Afternoon to it, and the acclaimed and award-winning filmmaker Francis Ford Coppola created a film around it - The Godfather , with the culmination being the montage structured around a baptism: The baptism of his nephew in water and his baptism in blood as he ascends to the position of godfather.
But despite their abilities neither work succeeded in addressing the fascination inherent:
Hemingway reportedly died at his own hand and Coppola experienced ruin in a multitude of ways without finding resolution and conclusion.
What is it about taking a life that appeals to so many? Why are people willing to ruin themselves to plumb the depths of something so vile and sickening?
Is it the idea of being god-like, of holding power and influence, decision and fate over another? Does the premature ending of a life somehow give more value to the life that took it?
I have been doing a lot of thinking lately about such things. Not because like Coppola or Hemingway I am mad or obsessed with the basic idea involved, but because the sacred bull and the killing of it has brought other matters to hand.
As those reading this know we live in the Information Age. The age of the Internet where anyone can and does become famous by way of a video on YouTube, or a vuglar and crass act on FaceBook, or a rude and outrageous remark posted to a blog on Live Journal or Blogger or WordPress.
Followed almost immediately by something resembling the killing of the sacred bull.
No sooner is fame realized and things begin to happen. Things involving rumor and lies and gossip. Things that can and do ruin lives. And the sacred bull, the person who was famous, is yesterday's news.
I am often asked why I don't do interviews or publicity, and why it is my picture is not found on this web site.
Simply: I have no desire to become the sacred bull.
More than a decade ago I gave what became my last formal interview. At the time there was no plan to make it so, but the more time that passed following the interview the more apparent it became to me that involving myself in such activities was detrimental in ways I could not imagine or comprehend until time itself allowed me to see them.
There are no regrets about the making of this decision, about the realizing of this choice. In fact, I will be so bold as to assert my life is better for it because it has allowed me the opportunity to see and appreciate the value to the things I do. If a piece of writing succeeds it is not because of an interview or a publicity tour in which I prostitute myself to satisfy quote whores. It is because the writing succeeds. Period. Nothing more.
And from this the value and measure of my Life is certain when realized, and I understand and know what success really and truly means and is.
Food for thought.