User:TWietstruk/sandbox: Difference between revisions

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Hemingway is introduced into the narrative when Mailer arrives in an unappealing Kinshasa with a stomach ailment, and immediately name drops Joseph Conrad and Ernest Hemingway: Conrad for his iconic depiction of the Congo, and Hemingway, about whom Mailer wonders, “Was it part of Hemingway’s genius that he could travel with healthy insides?”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=22}}, ignoring the overwhelming catalogue of incidents and accidents that Hemingway suffered during his lifetime of travels. When Mailer hears the mighty roar of a lion, he begins a reverie: “To be eaten by a lion on the banks of the Congo— who could fail to notice that it was Hemingway’s own lion waiting down these years for the flesh of Ernest until an appropriate substitute had at last arrived?”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=92}}. If the sound of the lion causes Mailer to fancy a lofty reenactment of Francis Macomber’s paranoia, or Mary’s quest for the lion in ''Under Kilimanjaro'', he does well to confess that the joke is on him: Zaire has a zoo. In Mailer’s description of a drunken balancing act on a balcony outside his hotel room, he speculates on the possibility of dying in this way. “What could be worse than accidental suicide?” he asks rhetorically. “A reverberation of Hemingway’s end shivered its echo”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=123}}. These three examples indeed position Mailer as an “appropriate substitute” for Hemingway, both in his ambitious writing project in Africa, his encounters with the beasts of the jungle, and the courting of his own death, with Hemingway’s 1961 suicide still hovering over Mailer’s behavior, his thoughts, and his writing.

But Mailer is not through. When he puts forth Ali’s quandary once the fight is under his control, that he must choose between a victory by either a lethargic decision or the flourish of a spectacular knockout, he is compared to “a torero after a great faena who must still face the drear potential of a protracted inept and disappointing kill,” while Foreman remains “a bull”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=200}}. In the sixth round, by which time the bout’s fate is foretold, Ali sizes {{pg|132|133}}up Foreman “the way a bullfighter lines up a bull before going in over the horns for the kill . . . a fair conclusion was that the bull still had an access of strength too great for the kill” (202). In a sequence where Mailer would make dozens of comparisons, frantically seeking metaphorical images to convey the magnitude of the scene, his clinging to bullfighting imagery is striking thematically and strategically, even if the image might only resonate with a specialist, with himself, or with a fellow aficionado of Death in the Afternoon{{efn|Cf. Advertisements For Myself, when Mailer writes, “I used to compare the bed to the bullfight, sometimes seeing myself as the matador and sometimes as the bull” (495).}}. When Mailer compares Foreman’s clumsiness to “a street fighter at the end of a long rumble” (204), the reader does not require any special base of knowledge to access the comparison.

But Mailer is not through. When he puts forth Ali’s quandary once the fight is under his control, that he must choose between a victory by either a lethargic decision or the flourish of a spectacular knockout, he is compared to “a torero after a great faena who must still face the drear potential of a protracted inept and disappointing kill,” while Foreman remains “a bull”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=200}}. In the sixth round, by which time the bout’s fate is foretold, Ali sizes {{pg|132|133}}up Foreman “the way a bullfighter lines up a bull before going in over the horns for the kill . . . a fair conclusion was that the bull still had an access of strength too great for the kill”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=202}}. In a sequence where Mailer would make dozens of comparisons, frantically seeking metaphorical images to convey the magnitude of the scene, his clinging to bullfighting imagery is striking thematically and strategically, even if the image might only resonate with a specialist, with himself, or with a fellow aficionado of [[Death in the Afternoon]]{{efn|Cf. Advertisements For Myself, when Mailer writes, “I used to compare the bed to the bullfight, sometimes seeing myself as the matador and sometimes as the bull” {{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=495}}}}. When Mailer compares Foreman’s clumsiness to “a street fighter at the end of a long rumble” {{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=204}}, the reader does not require any special base of knowledge to access the comparison.

The dynamic set up between Foreman and Ali leads to the rope-a-dope strategy that is ultimately Foreman’s undoing and proof of Ali’s ingenuity. Parodying his own proclivity towards “Germanic formulation,” Mailer teases that he might characterize this approach as “the modal transposition from Active to Passive”(221). The serious point about Ali’s strategy, though, is that he did not overpower Foreman (because he could not), and did not even use superior skill. He outsmarted him, outclassed him. Ali kills recibiendo. His technique is the boxing equivalent of the bullfighter’s choice to kill by receiving the bull, to allow the bull’s aggression to work against itself by charging into the sword, rather than attacking the animal. Just as Ali’s technique is legendary, both Mailer and Hemingway have extolled the recibiendo style as, on several levels, the most sublime way to kill a bull.

The dynamic set up between Foreman and Ali leads to the rope-a-dope strategy that is ultimately Foreman’s undoing and proof of Ali’s ingenuity. Parodying his own proclivity towards “Germanic formulation,” Mailer teases that he might characterize this approach as “the modal transposition from Active to Passive”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=221}}. The serious point about Ali’s strategy, though, is that he did not overpower Foreman (because he could not), and did not even use superior skill. He outsmarted him, outclassed him. Ali kills ''recibiendo''. His technique is the boxing equivalent of the bullfighter’s choice to kill by receiving the bull, to allow the bull’s aggression to work against itself by charging into the sword, rather than attacking the animal. Just as Ali’s technique is legendary, both Mailer and Hemingway have extolled the ''recibiendo'' style as, on several levels, the most sublime way to kill a bull.

Not many Americans understood the importance of recibiendo before 1926, when Hemingway turned the technique into an objective correlative for courage, the grace-under-pressure ideal that has become threadbare in recent discussions of Hemingway’s texts. In the final bullfight before the end of the festival of San Fermin, Romero’s performance is captured:

Not many Americans understood the importance of ''recibiendo'' before 1926, when Hemingway turned the technique into an objective correlative for courage, the grace-under-pressure ideal that has become threadbare in recent discussions of Hemingway’s texts. In the final bullfight before the end of the festival of San Fermin, Romero’s performance is captured:

{{cquote|The bull watched him. Romero spoke to the bull and tapped one of his feet. The bull charged and Romero waited for the charge, the muleta held low, sighting along the blade, his feet firm. Then without taking a step forward, he became one with the bull . . . ~~(SAR~~ 224)}}

{{cquote|The bull watched him. Romero spoke to the bull and tapped one of his feet. The bull charged and Romero waited for the charge, the muleta held low, sighting along the blade, his feet firm. Then without taking a step forward, he became one with the bull . . . {{sfn|Hemingway|1926|p=224}}}}

In ''Death in the Afternoon'', Hemingway defines Recibir, “to kill the bull from in front awaiting his charge without moving the feet once the charge has started” (442). This definition is nearly a precise restatement of Romero’s {{pg|133|134}}triumph in ''The Sun Also Rises'', his feet firm, waiting for the charge. Hemingway refers to recibiendo as the most “difficult, dangerous and emotional way to kill bulls” ~~(DIA~~ 442). In ''The Dangerous Summer'', Hemingway refers to the technique as “the oldest and the most dangerous and the most beautiful” manner of killing (202). By employing the recibiendo technique, Antonio Ordóñez in ''The Dangerous Summer'' and Pedro Romero in ''The Sun Also Rises'' impress their observers and impress the writers recording their accomplishments.

In ''Death in the Afternoon'', Hemingway defines ''Recibir'', “to kill the bull from in front awaiting his charge without moving the feet once the charge has started”{{sfn|Hemingway|1932|p=442}}. This definition is nearly a precise restatement of Romero’s {{pg|133|134}}triumph in ''The Sun Also Rises'', his feet firm, waiting for the charge. Hemingway refers to ''recibiendo'' as the most “difficult, dangerous and emotional way to kill bulls” {{sfn|Hemingway|1985|p=442}}. In ''The Dangerous Summer'', Hemingway refers to the technique as “the oldest and the most dangerous and the most beautiful” manner of killing{{sfn|Hemingway|1985|p=202}}. By employing the ''recibiendo'' technique, Antonio Ordóñez in ''The Dangerous Summer'' and Pedro Romero in ''The Sun Also Rises'' impress their observers and impress the writers recording their accomplishments.

Mailer shares Hemingway’s fascination with a matador killing recibiendo. His miniaturized version of Death in the Afternoon, published in 1967, called simply ''The Bullfight''{{efn|Mailer’s introductory remarks in that text are titled: “Footnote to Death in the Afternoon.”}}, describes this classic style of killing with a sense of awe, and is worth quoting at length:

Mailer shares Hemingway’s fascination with a matador killing ''recibiendo''. His miniaturized version of Death in the Afternoon, published in 1967, called simply [[The Bullfight]]{{efn|Mailer’s introductory remarks in that text are titled: “Footnote to Death in the Afternoon.”}}, describes this classic style of killing with a sense of awe, and is worth quoting at length:

{{cquote|The bull charged prematurely, and Amado, determined to get the kill, did not skip away but held ground, received the charge, stood there with the sword, turned the bull’s head with the muleta, and the bull impaled himself on the point of the torero’s blade which went right into the proper space between the shoulders, and the bull ran right up on it into his death, took several steps to the side, gave a toss of his head at heaven, and fell. Amado had killed recibiendo. He had killed standing still, receiving the bull while the bull charged. No one had seen that in years. (n. ~~pag.)~~}}

{{cquote|The bull charged prematurely, and Amado, determined to get the kill, did not skip away but held ground, received the charge, stood there with the sword, turned the bull’s head with the muleta, and the bull impaled himself on the point of the torero’s blade which went right into the proper space between the shoulders, and the bull ran right up on it into his death, took several steps to the side, gave a toss of his head at heaven, and fell. Amado had killed ''recibiendo''. He had killed standing still, receiving the bull while the bull charged. No one had seen that in years.{{sfn|Mailer|1967|p=n.pg}}}}

By leaning back against the ropes and inciting Foreman’s charge, Ali displays the same bravado, courage, and panache in dominating his opponent as these matadors who Mailer and Hemingway laud with such emotion{{efn|One of the ways Mailer praises Ali in ''When We Were Kings'' is by saying, “What a classic performance,” suggesting the classic style of defeating an opponent that parallels a heroic matador.}}.

By leaning back against the ropes and inciting Foreman’s charge, Ali displays the same bravado, courage, and panache in dominating his opponent as these matadors who Mailer and Hemingway laud with such emotion{{efn|One of the ways Mailer praises Ali in [[When We Were Kings]] is by saying, “What a classic performance,” suggesting the classic style of defeating an opponent that parallels a heroic matador.}}.

Mailer and Hemingway mimic the matadors they lionize in two significant ways. For Hemingway, the ''corto y derecho'' style of bullfighting that he describes in “The Undefeated,” another story from Men Without Women, is so closely associated with his own “short and straight” writing style that the reference is almost transparently self-referential and was so already by its publication in 1927. In the same way that Jake’s attention to Romero is revelatory of what he values in a man, Hemingway’s own characterization of Romero is crucial for what Hemingway values in art. When Romero’s performance is summarized as “not brilliant bull-fighting . . . only perfect bull-fighting”~~(SAR~~ 221), and that Romero’s style contained “no tricks and no {{pg|134|135}}mystifications” (223), Hemingway is separating his own novel from modern masterpieces of the previous few years like Ulysses or The Great Gatsby or Mrs. Dalloway and even anticipating the experimentation of The Sound and the Fury, which would come a few years later.

Mailer and Hemingway mimic the matadors they lionize in two significant ways. For Hemingway, the ''corto y derecho'' style of bullfighting that he describes in “The Undefeated,” another story from ''Men Without Women'', is so closely associated with his own “short and straight” writing style that the reference is almost transparently self-referential and was so already by its publication in 1927. In the same way that Jake’s attention to Romero is revelatory of what he values in a man, Hemingway’s own characterization of Romero is crucial for what Hemingway values in art. When Romero’s performance is summarized as “not brilliant bull-fighting . . . only perfect bull-fighting”{{sfn|Hemingway|1926|p=221}}, and that Romero’s style contained “no tricks and no {{pg|134|135}}mystifications” {{sfn|Hemingway|1926|p=223}}, Hemingway is separating his own novel from modern masterpieces of the previous few years like ''Ulysses'' or ''The Great Gatsby'' or ''Mrs. Dalloway'' and even anticipating the experimentation of ''The Sound and the Fury'', which would come a few years later.

Just as Hemingway mimics Romero’s clarity, classicism, and linearity in prose{{efn|The first draft of The Sun Also Rises originally began in medias res, beginning in Spain, then flashing back to Paris. The change to linearity transcends a narratological decision to achieve thematic importance. For the essential study of The Sun Also ~~Rises’s~~ composition and its implications, see Svoboda.}}, Mailer links the passes of his narrative, endeavoring to reach a narrative climax just as the fight reaches its dramatic climax in the eighth round. Unlike Hemingway, who did not cling to figurative language in a conspicuous quest to have the reader understand perfectly a situation which he might not have ever seen before, Mailer’s sequence of comparisons rises to the task as the most memorable writerly performance in his account of the “Rumble in the Jungle.”

Just as Hemingway mimics Romero’s clarity, classicism, and linearity in prose{{efn|The first draft of ''The Sun Also Rises'' originally began in medias res, beginning in Spain, then flashing back to Paris. The change to linearity transcends a narratological decision to achieve thematic importance. For the essential study of ''The Sun Also Rises''’s composition and its implications, see Svoboda.}}, Mailer links the passes of his narrative, endeavoring to reach a narrative climax just as the fight reaches its dramatic climax in the eighth round. Unlike Hemingway, who did not cling to figurative language in a conspicuous quest to have the reader understand perfectly a situation which he might not have ever seen before, Mailer’s sequence of comparisons rises to the task as the most memorable writerly performance in his account of the “Rumble in the Jungle.”

A few years earlier, Mailer warned his readers that “Sooner or later, fight metaphors, like fight managers, go sentimental. They go military” (King of the Hill 66). True to his word, the first similes of the eighth round follow such a trope: Ali chooses his shots “as if he had a reserve of good punches. . . like a soldier in a siege who counts his bullets” ~~(The Fight~~ 206). Some of the exchanges at the beginning of round eight recall the “great bombardment” of the fifth (207), which Mailer calls one of the greatest in the history of boxing, with a “shelling reminiscent of artillery battles in World War I”(195). While Mailer may caution us of the glibness of comparing boxing to warfare, he gleefully perpetuates the absurdity; he well knows that three minutes of getting punched by a man—even by George Foreman—is nothing like a world war, but he willingly adopts the parlance and conventions of boxing writing.

A few years earlier, Mailer warned his readers that “Sooner or later, fight metaphors, like fight managers, go sentimental. They go military” ([[King of the Hill]]{{sfn|Mailer|1971|p=66}}. True to his word, the first similes of the eighth round follow such a trope: Ali chooses his shots “as if he had a reserve of good punches. . . like a soldier in a siege who counts his bullets”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=206}}. Some of the exchanges at the beginning of round eight recall the “great bombardment” of the fifth{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=207}}, which Mailer calls one of the greatest in the history of boxing, with a “shelling reminiscent of artillery battles in World War I”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=195). While Mailer may caution us of the glibness of comparing boxing to warfare, he gleefully perpetuates the absurdity; he well knows that three minutes of getting punched by a man—even by George Foreman—is nothing like a world war, but he willingly adopts the parlance and conventions of boxing writing.

Towards the end of the seventh round, Mailer uses scenery-chewing similes to control the pace of the narrative, the better to convey Foreman’s mighty fatigue.

{{cquote|Foreman was fighting as slowly as a worn-out fighter in the Golden Gloves, slow as a man walking up a hill of pillows, slow as he would have looked if their first round had been rerun in slow motion, that was no slower than Foreman was fighting now . . . he was reminiscent . . . of a linebacker coiling around a runner with his hands and arms in the slow-motion replay . . . (204–05)}}{{pg|135|136}}

{{cquote|Foreman was fighting as slowly as a worn-out fighter in the Golden Gloves, slow as a man walking up a hill of pillows, slow as he would have looked if their first round had been rerun in slow motion, that was no slower than Foreman was fighting now . . . he was reminiscent . . . of a linebacker coiling around a runner with his hands and arms in the slow-motion replay . . .{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=204–05}}}}{{pg|135|136}}

And no slower than Mailer is narrating now. In this sequence of three similes, the first and third compare a slow fighter to a slow fighter. To say that Foreman, a tired professional fighter, looks as tired as a tired amateur fighter, is patently ridiculous. Furthermore, to state that he is as slow as a slow-motion version of himself, or a slow-motion version of someone else is not a helpful comparison; it is not vivid and inventive writing. The second simile is brilliant, and would be the only one needed, if the first and third did not aid in establishing the pacing of the moment in the fight.

Directly before the eighth round, Ali’s eyes, by contrast to Foreman’s torpor, are “quick as the eyes, indeed, of a squirrel”(206), demonstrating the energy, vivacity and speed that has been sapped from Foreman. During the round, Mailer’s similes are telling; they evoke the spectator’s enthusiasm, the witness’s thrill of the final sequence of the fight. Foreman’s legs become “like a horse high-stepping along a road full of rocks” (206); he bounces off the ropes and pursues Ali “like a man chasing a cat” (206); he waves his gloves at Ali “like an infant six feet tall waving its uncoordinated battle arm” (207). When Ali delivers the coup de grâce, “Foreman’s arms flew out to the side like a man with a parachute jumping out of a plane” (208). How does he fall? “He went over like a six-foot, sixty-year-old butler who has just heard tragic news”(208). Foreman transforms from a six-foot infant to a six-foot sexagenarian manservant in two minutes. And, finally, Mailer compares a knocked-out fighter to “a drunk hoping to get out of bed to go to work”(208), an unfortunately predictable association.

Directly before the eighth round, Ali’s eyes, by contrast to Foreman’s torpor, are “quick as the eyes, indeed, of a squirrel”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=206}}, demonstrating the energy, vivacity and speed that has been sapped from Foreman. During the round, Mailer’s similes are telling; they evoke the spectator’s enthusiasm, the witness’s thrill of the final sequence of the fight. Foreman’s legs become “like a horse high-stepping along a road full of rocks”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=206}}; he bounces off the ropes and pursues Ali “like a man chasing a cat”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=206}}; he waves his gloves at Ali “like an infant six feet tall waving its uncoordinated battle arm”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=207}}. When Ali delivers the ''coup de grâce'', “Foreman’s arms flew out to the side like a man with a parachute jumping out of a plane”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=208}}. How does he fall? “He went over like a six-foot, sixty-year-old butler who has just heard tragic news”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=208}}. Foreman transforms from a six-foot infant to a six-foot sexagenarian manservant in two minutes. And, finally, Mailer compares a knocked-out fighter to “a drunk hoping to get out of bed to go to work”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=208}}, an unfortunately predictable association.

All of these similes are Mailer’s own flourishes, the passes that he links together, striving to express his enthusiasm and awe, seeking to get the reader more intimately involved with the experience, culminating with one final comparison, not of Ali or of Foreman, but of his own reaction: our narrator was “like a dim parent who realizes suddenly his child is indeed and indubitably married”(209). The figurative rope-a-dope that Mailer employs is unlike Hemingway’s description of the bullfight, but identical in that the scene he is attempting to capture must be described according to the terms of the action being rendered.

All of these similes are Mailer’s own flourishes, the passes that he links together, striving to express his enthusiasm and awe, seeking to get the reader more intimately involved with the experience, culminating with one final comparison, not of Ali or of Foreman, but of his own reaction: our narrator was “like a dim parent who realizes suddenly his child is indeed and indubitably married”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=209}}. The figurative rope-a-dope that Mailer employs is unlike Hemingway’s description of the bullfight, but identical in that the scene he is attempting to capture must be described according to the terms of the action being rendered.

Where does The Fight ultimately belong in Norman Mailer’s life’s work? Is it a self-aggrandizing study of a sport, the nuances of which only a select few appreciate or care about? Is The Fight Mailer’s Death in the ~~Afternoon—~~ the disquisition on bullfighting Hemingway wrote as a young man—or more precisely his The Dangerous Summer, Hemingway’s revisitation of the {{pg|136|137}}bullfights at the end of his career? Is it Mailer’s A Moveable Feast, a version of his memoirs? Does it equate to the two books Hemingway devoted to African safaris? A combination of all of these? The Fight, ultimately, illuminates the reader of the way Mailer views violence, writing, and Hemingway himself, which positions it as a supplementary text to virtually every other major Mailer effort. With Hemingway and bullfighting as constant presences in The Fight, these intertextual questions yield results that allow Mailer’s project to transcend journalism, or sports writing, to become a key text to determining his restatement of Hemingway’s classic twentieth-century themes.

Where does [[The Fight]] ultimately belong in Norman Mailer’s life’s work? Is it a self-aggrandizing study of a sport, the nuances of which only a select few appreciate or care about? Is [[The Fight]] Mailer’s ''Death in the Afternoon''— the disquisition on bullfighting Hemingway wrote as a young man—or more precisely his ''The Dangerous Summer'', Hemingway’s revisitation of the {{pg|136|137}}bullfights at the end of his career? Is it Mailer’s [[A Moveable Feast]], a version of his memoirs? Does it equate to the two books Hemingway devoted to African safaris? A combination of all of these? [[The Fight]], ultimately, illuminates the reader of the way Mailer views violence, writing, and Hemingway himself, which positions it as a supplementary text to virtually every other major Mailer effort. With Hemingway and bullfighting as constant presences in [[The Fight]], these intertextual questions yield results that allow Mailer’s project to transcend journalism, or sports writing, to become a key text to determining his restatement of Hemingway’s classic twentieth-century themes.

===Notes===

@@ Line 44: / Line 44: @@
 Hemingway is introduced into the narrative when Mailer arrives in an unappealing Kinshasa with a stomach ailment, and immediately name drops Joseph Conrad and Ernest Hemingway: Conrad for his iconic depiction of the Congo, and Hemingway, about whom Mailer wonders, “Was it part of Hemingway’s genius that he could travel with healthy insides?”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=22}}, ignoring the overwhelming catalogue of incidents and accidents that Hemingway suffered during his lifetime of travels. When Mailer hears the mighty roar of a lion, he begins a reverie: “To be eaten by a lion on the banks of the Congo— who could fail to notice that it was Hemingway’s own lion waiting down these years for the flesh of Ernest until an appropriate substitute had at last arrived?”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=92}}. If the sound of the lion causes Mailer to fancy a lofty reenactment of Francis Macomber’s paranoia, or Mary’s quest for the lion in ''Under Kilimanjaro'', he does well to confess that the joke is on him: Zaire has a zoo. In Mailer’s description of a drunken balancing act on a balcony outside his hotel room, he speculates on the possibility of dying in this way. “What could be worse than accidental suicide?” he asks rhetorically. “A reverberation of Hemingway’s end shivered its echo”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=123}}. These three examples indeed position Mailer as an “appropriate substitute” for Hemingway, both in his ambitious writing project in Africa, his encounters with the beasts of the jungle, and the courting of his own death, with Hemingway’s 1961 suicide still hovering over Mailer’s behavior, his thoughts, and his writing.
-But Mailer is not through. When he puts forth Ali’s quandary once the fight is under his control, that he must choose between a victory by either a lethargic decision or the flourish of a spectacular knockout, he is compared to “a torero after a great faena who must still face the drear potential of a protracted inept and disappointing kill,” while Foreman remains “a bull”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=200}}. In the sixth round, by which time the bout’s fate is foretold, Ali sizes {{pg|132|133}}up Foreman “the way a bullfighter lines up a bull before going in over the horns for the kill . . . a fair conclusion was that the bull still had an access of strength too great for the kill” (202). In a sequence where Mailer would make dozens of comparisons, frantically seeking metaphorical images to convey the magnitude of the scene, his clinging to bullfighting imagery is striking thematically and strategically, even if the image might only resonate with a specialist, with himself, or with a fellow aficionado of Death in the Afternoon{{efn|Cf. Advertisements For Myself, when Mailer writes, “I used to compare the bed to the bullfight, sometimes seeing myself as the matador and sometimes as the bull” (495).}}. When Mailer compares Foreman’s clumsiness to “a street fighter at the end of a long rumble” (204), the reader does not require any special base of knowledge to access the comparison.
+But Mailer is not through. When he puts forth Ali’s quandary once the fight is under his control, that he must choose between a victory by either a lethargic decision or the flourish of a spectacular knockout, he is compared to “a torero after a great faena who must still face the drear potential of a protracted inept and disappointing kill,” while Foreman remains “a bull”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=200}}. In the sixth round, by which time the bout’s fate is foretold, Ali sizes {{pg|132|133}}up Foreman “the way a bullfighter lines up a bull before going in over the horns for the kill . . . a fair conclusion was that the bull still had an access of strength too great for the kill”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=202}}. In a sequence where Mailer would make dozens of comparisons, frantically seeking metaphorical images to convey the magnitude of the scene, his clinging to bullfighting imagery is striking thematically and strategically, even if the image might only resonate with a specialist, with himself, or with a fellow aficionado of [[Death in the Afternoon]]{{efn|Cf. Advertisements For Myself, when Mailer writes, “I used to compare the bed to the bullfight, sometimes seeing myself as the matador and sometimes as the bull” {{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=495}}}}. When Mailer compares Foreman’s clumsiness to “a street fighter at the end of a long rumble” {{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=204}}, the reader does not require any special base of knowledge to access the comparison.
-The dynamic set up between Foreman and Ali leads to the rope-a-dope strategy that is ultimately Foreman’s undoing and proof of Ali’s ingenuity. Parodying his own proclivity towards “Germanic formulation,” Mailer teases that he might characterize this approach as “the modal transposition from Active to Passive”(221). The serious point about Ali’s strategy, though, is that he did not overpower Foreman (because he could not), and did not even use superior skill. He outsmarted him, outclassed him. Ali kills recibiendo. His technique is the boxing equivalent of the bullfighter’s choice to kill by receiving the bull, to allow the bull’s aggression to work against itself by charging into the sword, rather than attacking the animal. Just as Ali’s technique is legendary, both Mailer and Hemingway have extolled the recibiendo style as, on several levels, the most sublime way to kill a bull.
+The dynamic set up between Foreman and Ali leads to the rope-a-dope strategy that is ultimately Foreman’s undoing and proof of Ali’s ingenuity. Parodying his own proclivity towards “Germanic formulation,” Mailer teases that he might characterize this approach as “the modal transposition from Active to Passive”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=221}}. The serious point about Ali’s strategy, though, is that he did not overpower Foreman (because he could not), and did not even use superior skill. He outsmarted him, outclassed him. Ali kills ''recibiendo''. His technique is the boxing equivalent of the bullfighter’s choice to kill by receiving the bull, to allow the bull’s aggression to work against itself by charging into the sword, rather than attacking the animal. Just as Ali’s technique is legendary, both Mailer and Hemingway have extolled the ''recibiendo'' style as, on several levels, the most sublime way to kill a bull.
-Not many Americans understood the importance of recibiendo before 1926, when Hemingway turned the technique into an objective correlative for courage, the grace-under-pressure ideal that has become threadbare in recent discussions of Hemingway’s texts. In the final bullfight before the end of the festival of San Fermin, Romero’s performance is captured:
+Not many Americans understood the importance of ''recibiendo'' before 1926, when Hemingway turned the technique into an objective correlative for courage, the grace-under-pressure ideal that has become threadbare in recent discussions of Hemingway’s texts. In the final bullfight before the end of the festival of San Fermin, Romero’s performance is captured:
-{{cquote|The bull watched him. Romero spoke to the bull and tapped one of his feet. The bull charged and Romero waited for the charge, the muleta held low, sighting along the blade, his feet firm. Then without taking a step forward, he became one with the bull . . . (SAR 224)}}
+{{cquote|The bull watched him. Romero spoke to the bull and tapped one of his feet. The bull charged and Romero waited for the charge, the muleta held low, sighting along the blade, his feet firm. Then without taking a step forward, he became one with the bull . . . {{sfn|Hemingway|1926|p=224}}}}
-In ''Death in the Afternoon'', Hemingway defines Recibir, “to kill the bull from in front awaiting his charge without moving the feet once the charge has started” (442). This definition is nearly a precise restatement of Romero’s {{pg|133|134}}triumph in ''The Sun Also Rises'', his feet firm, waiting for the charge. Hemingway refers to recibiendo as the most “difficult, dangerous and emotional way to kill bulls” (DIA 442). In ''The Dangerous Summer'', Hemingway refers to the technique as “the oldest and the most dangerous and the most beautiful” manner of killing (202). By employing the recibiendo technique, Antonio Ordóñez in ''The Dangerous Summer'' and Pedro Romero in ''The Sun Also Rises'' impress their observers and impress the writers recording their accomplishments.
+In ''Death in the Afternoon'', Hemingway defines ''Recibir'', “to kill the bull from in front awaiting his charge without moving the feet once the charge has started”{{sfn|Hemingway|1932|p=442}}. This definition is nearly a precise restatement of Romero’s {{pg|133|134}}triumph in ''The Sun Also Rises'', his feet firm, waiting for the charge. Hemingway refers to ''recibiendo'' as the most “difficult, dangerous and emotional way to kill bulls” {{sfn|Hemingway|1985|p=442}}. In ''The Dangerous Summer'', Hemingway refers to the technique as “the oldest and the most dangerous and the most beautiful” manner of killing{{sfn|Hemingway|1985|p=202}}. By employing the ''recibiendo'' technique, Antonio Ordóñez in ''The Dangerous Summer'' and Pedro Romero in ''The Sun Also Rises'' impress their observers and impress the writers recording their accomplishments.
-Mailer shares Hemingway’s fascination with a matador killing recibiendo. His miniaturized version of Death in the Afternoon, published in 1967, called simply ''The Bullfight''{{efn|Mailer’s introductory remarks in that text are titled: “Footnote to Death in the Afternoon.”}}, describes this classic style of killing with a sense of awe, and is worth quoting at length:
+Mailer shares Hemingway’s fascination with a matador killing ''recibiendo''. His miniaturized version of Death in the Afternoon, published in 1967, called simply [[The Bullfight]]{{efn|Mailer’s introductory remarks in that text are titled: “Footnote to Death in the Afternoon.”}}, describes this classic style of killing with a sense of awe, and is worth quoting at length:
-{{cquote|The bull charged prematurely, and Amado, determined to get the kill, did not skip away but held ground, received the charge, stood there with the sword, turned the bull’s head with the muleta, and the bull impaled himself on the point of the torero’s blade which went right into the proper space between the shoulders, and the bull ran right up on it into his death, took several steps to the side, gave a toss of his head at heaven, and fell. Amado had killed recibiendo. He had killed standing still, receiving the bull while the bull charged. No one had seen that in years. (n. pag.)}}
+{{cquote|The bull charged prematurely, and Amado, determined to get the kill, did not skip away but held ground, received the charge, stood there with the sword, turned the bull’s head with the muleta, and the bull impaled himself on the point of the torero’s blade which went right into the proper space between the shoulders, and the bull ran right up on it into his death, took several steps to the side, gave a toss of his head at heaven, and fell. Amado had killed ''recibiendo''. He had killed standing still, receiving the bull while the bull charged. No one had seen that in years.{{sfn|Mailer|1967|p=n.pg}}}}
-By leaning back against the ropes and inciting Foreman’s charge, Ali displays the same bravado, courage, and panache in dominating his opponent as these matadors who Mailer and Hemingway laud with such emotion{{efn|One of the ways Mailer praises Ali in ''When We Were Kings'' is by saying, “What a classic performance,” suggesting the classic style of defeating an opponent that parallels a heroic matador.}}.
+By leaning back against the ropes and inciting Foreman’s charge, Ali displays the same bravado, courage, and panache in dominating his opponent as these matadors who Mailer and Hemingway laud with such emotion{{efn|One of the ways Mailer praises Ali in [[When We Were Kings]] is by saying, “What a classic performance,” suggesting the classic style of defeating an opponent that parallels a heroic matador.}}.
-Mailer and Hemingway mimic the matadors they lionize in two significant ways. For Hemingway, the ''corto y derecho'' style of bullfighting that he describes in “The Undefeated,” another story from Men Without Women, is so closely associated with his own “short and straight” writing style that the reference is almost transparently self-referential and was so already by its publication in 1927. In the same way that Jake’s attention to Romero is revelatory of what he values in a man, Hemingway’s own characterization of Romero is crucial for what Hemingway values in art. When Romero’s performance is summarized as “not brilliant bull-fighting . . . only perfect bull-fighting”(SAR 221), and that Romero’s style contained “no tricks and no {{pg|134|135}}mystifications” (223), Hemingway is separating his own novel from modern masterpieces of the previous few years like Ulysses or The Great Gatsby or Mrs. Dalloway and even anticipating the experimentation of The Sound and the Fury, which would come a few years later.
+Mailer and Hemingway mimic the matadors they lionize in two significant ways. For Hemingway, the ''corto y derecho'' style of bullfighting that he describes in “The Undefeated,” another story from ''Men Without Women'', is so closely associated with his own “short and straight” writing style that the reference is almost transparently self-referential and was so already by its publication in 1927. In the same way that Jake’s attention to Romero is revelatory of what he values in a man, Hemingway’s own characterization of Romero is crucial for what Hemingway values in art. When Romero’s performance is summarized as “not brilliant bull-fighting . . . only perfect bull-fighting”{{sfn|Hemingway|1926|p=221}}, and that Romero’s style contained “no tricks and no {{pg|134|135}}mystifications” {{sfn|Hemingway|1926|p=223}}, Hemingway is separating his own novel from modern masterpieces of the previous few years like ''Ulysses'' or ''The Great Gatsby'' or ''Mrs. Dalloway'' and even anticipating the experimentation of ''The Sound and the Fury'', which would come a few years later.
-Just as Hemingway mimics Romero’s clarity, classicism, and linearity in prose{{efn|The first draft of The Sun Also Rises originally began in medias res, beginning in Spain, then flashing back to Paris. The change to linearity transcends a narratological decision to achieve thematic importance. For the essential study of The Sun Also Rises’s composition and its implications, see Svoboda.}}, Mailer links the passes of his narrative, endeavoring to reach a narrative climax just as the fight reaches its dramatic climax in the eighth round. Unlike Hemingway, who did not cling to figurative language in a conspicuous quest to have the reader understand perfectly a situation which he might not have ever seen before, Mailer’s sequence of comparisons rises to the task as the most memorable writerly performance in his account of the “Rumble in the Jungle.”
+Just as Hemingway mimics Romero’s clarity, classicism, and linearity in prose{{efn|The first draft of ''The Sun Also Rises'' originally began in medias res, beginning in Spain, then flashing back to Paris. The change to linearity transcends a narratological decision to achieve thematic importance. For the essential study of ''The Sun Also Rises''’s composition and its implications, see Svoboda.}}, Mailer links the passes of his narrative, endeavoring to reach a narrative climax just as the fight reaches its dramatic climax in the eighth round. Unlike Hemingway, who did not cling to figurative language in a conspicuous quest to have the reader understand perfectly a situation which he might not have ever seen before, Mailer’s sequence of comparisons rises to the task as the most memorable writerly performance in his account of the “Rumble in the Jungle.”
-A few years earlier, Mailer warned his readers that “Sooner or later, fight metaphors, like fight managers, go sentimental. They go military” (King of the Hill 66). True to his word, the first similes of the eighth round follow such a trope: Ali chooses his shots “as if he had a reserve of good punches. . . like a soldier in a siege who counts his bullets” (The Fight 206). Some of the exchanges at the beginning of round eight recall the “great bombardment” of the fifth (207), which Mailer calls one of the greatest in the history of boxing, with a “shelling reminiscent of artillery battles in World War I”(195). While Mailer may caution us of the glibness of comparing boxing to warfare, he gleefully perpetuates the absurdity; he well knows that three minutes of getting punched by a man—even by George Foreman—is nothing like a world war, but he willingly adopts the parlance and conventions of boxing writing.
+A few years earlier, Mailer warned his readers that “Sooner or later, fight metaphors, like fight managers, go sentimental. They go military” ([[King of the Hill]]{{sfn|Mailer|1971|p=66}}. True to his word, the first similes of the eighth round follow such a trope: Ali chooses his shots “as if he had a reserve of good punches. . . like a soldier in a siege who counts his bullets”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=206}}. Some of the exchanges at the beginning of round eight recall the “great bombardment” of the fifth{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=207}}, which Mailer calls one of the greatest in the history of boxing, with a “shelling reminiscent of artillery battles in World War I”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=195). While Mailer may caution us of the glibness of comparing boxing to warfare, he gleefully perpetuates the absurdity; he well knows that three minutes of getting punched by a man—even by George Foreman—is nothing like a world war, but he willingly adopts the parlance and conventions of boxing writing.
 Towards the end of the seventh round, Mailer uses scenery-chewing similes to control the pace of the narrative, the better to convey Foreman’s mighty fatigue.
-{{cquote|Foreman was fighting as slowly as a worn-out fighter in the Golden Gloves, slow as a man walking up a hill of pillows, slow as he would have looked if their first round had been rerun in slow motion, that was no slower than Foreman was fighting now . . . he was reminiscent . . . of a linebacker coiling around a runner with his hands and arms in the slow-motion replay . . . (204–05)}}{{pg|135|136}}
+{{cquote|Foreman was fighting as slowly as a worn-out fighter in the Golden Gloves, slow as a man walking up a hill of pillows, slow as he would have looked if their first round had been rerun in slow motion, that was no slower than Foreman was fighting now . . . he was reminiscent . . . of a linebacker coiling around a runner with his hands and arms in the slow-motion replay . . .{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=204–05}}}}{{pg|135|136}}
 And no slower than Mailer is narrating now. In this sequence of three similes, the first and third compare a slow fighter to a slow fighter. To say that Foreman, a tired professional fighter, looks as tired as a tired amateur fighter, is patently ridiculous. Furthermore, to state that he is as slow as a slow-motion version of himself, or a slow-motion version of someone else is not a helpful comparison; it is not vivid and inventive writing. The second simile is brilliant, and would be the only one needed, if the first and third did not aid in establishing the pacing of the moment in the fight.
-Directly before the eighth round, Ali’s eyes, by contrast to Foreman’s torpor, are “quick as the eyes, indeed, of a squirrel”(206), demonstrating the energy, vivacity and speed that has been sapped from Foreman. During the round, Mailer’s similes are telling; they evoke the spectator’s enthusiasm, the witness’s thrill of the final sequence of the fight. Foreman’s legs become “like a horse high-stepping along a road full of rocks” (206); he bounces off the ropes and pursues Ali “like a man chasing a cat” (206); he waves his gloves at Ali “like an infant six feet tall waving its uncoordinated battle arm” (207). When Ali delivers the coup de grâce, “Foreman’s arms flew out to the side like a man with a parachute jumping out of a plane” (208). How does he fall? “He went over like a six-foot, sixty-year-old butler who has just heard tragic news”(208). Foreman transforms from a six-foot infant to a six-foot sexagenarian manservant in two minutes. And, finally, Mailer compares a knocked-out fighter to “a drunk hoping to get out of bed to go to work”(208), an unfortunately predictable association.
+Directly before the eighth round, Ali’s eyes, by contrast to Foreman’s torpor, are “quick as the eyes, indeed, of a squirrel”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=206}}, demonstrating the energy, vivacity and speed that has been sapped from Foreman. During the round, Mailer’s similes are telling; they evoke the spectator’s enthusiasm, the witness’s thrill of the final sequence of the fight. Foreman’s legs become “like a horse high-stepping along a road full of rocks”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=206}}; he bounces off the ropes and pursues Ali “like a man chasing a cat”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=206}}; he waves his gloves at Ali “like an infant six feet tall waving its uncoordinated battle arm”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=207}}. When Ali delivers the ''coup de grâce'', “Foreman’s arms flew out to the side like a man with a parachute jumping out of a plane”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=208}}. How does he fall? “He went over like a six-foot, sixty-year-old butler who has just heard tragic news”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=208}}. Foreman transforms from a six-foot infant to a six-foot sexagenarian manservant in two minutes. And, finally, Mailer compares a knocked-out fighter to “a drunk hoping to get out of bed to go to work”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=208}}, an unfortunately predictable association.
-All of these similes are Mailer’s own flourishes, the passes that he links together, striving to express his enthusiasm and awe, seeking to get the reader more intimately involved with the experience, culminating with one final comparison, not of Ali or of Foreman, but of his own reaction: our narrator was “like a dim parent who realizes suddenly his child is indeed and indubitably married”(209). The figurative rope-a-dope that Mailer employs is unlike Hemingway’s description of the bullfight, but identical in that the scene he is attempting to capture must be described according to the terms of the action being rendered.
+All of these similes are Mailer’s own flourishes, the passes that he links together, striving to express his enthusiasm and awe, seeking to get the reader more intimately involved with the experience, culminating with one final comparison, not of Ali or of Foreman, but of his own reaction: our narrator was “like a dim parent who realizes suddenly his child is indeed and indubitably married”{{sfn|Mailer|1975|p=209}}. The figurative rope-a-dope that Mailer employs is unlike Hemingway’s description of the bullfight, but identical in that the scene he is attempting to capture must be described according to the terms of the action being rendered.
-Where does The Fight ultimately belong in Norman Mailer’s life’s work? Is it a self-aggrandizing study of a sport, the nuances of which only a select few appreciate or care about? Is The Fight Mailer’s Death in the Afternoon— the disquisition on bullfighting Hemingway wrote as a young man—or more precisely his The Dangerous Summer, Hemingway’s revisitation of the {{pg|136|137}}bullfights at the end of his career? Is it Mailer’s A Moveable Feast, a version of his memoirs? Does it equate to the two books Hemingway devoted to African safaris? A combination of all of these? The Fight, ultimately, illuminates the reader of the way Mailer views violence, writing, and Hemingway himself, which positions it as a supplementary text to virtually every other major Mailer effort. With Hemingway and bullfighting as constant presences in The Fight, these intertextual questions yield results that allow Mailer’s project to transcend journalism, or sports writing, to become a key text to determining his restatement of Hemingway’s classic twentieth-century themes.
+Where does [[The Fight]] ultimately belong in Norman Mailer’s life’s work? Is it a self-aggrandizing study of a sport, the nuances of which only a select few appreciate or care about? Is [[The Fight]] Mailer’s ''Death in the Afternoon''— the disquisition on bullfighting Hemingway wrote as a young man—or more precisely his ''The Dangerous Summer'', Hemingway’s revisitation of the {{pg|136|137}}bullfights at the end of his career? Is it Mailer’s [[A Moveable Feast]], a version of his memoirs? Does it equate to the two books Hemingway devoted to African safaris? A combination of all of these? [[The Fight]], ultimately, illuminates the reader of the way Mailer views violence, writing, and Hemingway himself, which positions it as a supplementary text to virtually every other major Mailer effort. With Hemingway and bullfighting as constant presences in [[The Fight]], these intertextual questions yield results that allow Mailer’s project to transcend journalism, or sports writing, to become a key text to determining his restatement of Hemingway’s classic twentieth-century themes.
 ===Notes===