The largest and fiercest bull of all

Today I am going to talk about a book I just read this week, Maia Wojciechowska's Shadow of a Bull, winner of the 1964 Newberry Medal.  The protagonist is Manolo Olivar, a boy who has the (mis)fortune to be the son of a world-famous bullfighter and local hero who was killed in the ring when Manolo was a baby.  His problem is simple: everyone in his life wants him to follow in his father's footsteps, while he has the natural reaction to the prospect of slaying a raging full-grown bull armed only with a cape and sword.  Namely, to run away screaming in the opposite direction.

As we were reading, I kept wondering when exactly this book takes place.  (It is never stated, but a couple details place it in the 1950's.)  For one can see precisely how a contemporary story with this premise would play out: Manolo would realize that his father was a deeply misguided man, and that he needed to atone for his sins by engaging in child political activism to put a stop to bullfighting for good, perhaps with an epilogue where he becomes an animal-rights lawyer for PETA.

This is not that book.  Though the central conflict of the story is whether or not it is Manolo's vocation to become a bullfighter, the idea of bullfighting as a worthy and even noble occupation is never called into question.  Its themes, however, are universal: a child must fight against both his own fears and the crushing weight of his elders' expectations in order to grow up and find his way in the world.  Sometimes in order to become a man, a boy has to slay a dragon.  But when dragons are in short supply, bulls will suffice.

Two more small notes on the book, one positive and one negative.  First, while I often find children's books with explicit Catholic themes to be somewhat tiresome, I liked that the Church was simply part of the background fabric of the characters' lives.  Manolo goes to Mass with his best friend, prays to Mary for guidance, and observes liturgical festivals, without any of it being called attention to.  My only negative is that, though the author is clearly a bullfighting expert, I came away from the book still not really understanding how bullfighting actually works.  A lot of Spanish terminology is thrown around without really explaining the moves or how they are different from each other.

Of course, it is impossible to read Shadow of a Bull without thinking of the "other" children's book about bullfighting.  I am speaking, of course, of Ferninand, the 1936 classic written by Munro Leaf and illustrated by Robert Lawson.

I love all of Robert Lawson's books, and will be discussing more of them, but this is one of my favorites.  There are many visual jokes tucked into his illustrations, but none of them as hilarious as his picture of the cork tree Ferdinand sits under, where the cork is not the bark of the tree, but rather its fruit, hanging down from the branches in wine-bottle ready units.

Though it comes at the subject matter in a completely different way, and a much more light-hearted tone, I think both books ultimately have the same message: even if everyone in your life wants to see you in the bullfighting ring, ultimately you have to take control of your own life and find a way to flourish.

Both books: A