Once upon a time, on a farm somewhere in Spain, there was a little bull born named Ferdinand. All the other little bulls he lived with in their pasture would run and jump and butt their heads together - but not Ferdinand. Instead, he liked to just sit quietly and smell the flowers, watching the world go by under his favorite cork tree. His mother, a cow, was worried about him; because little bulls do not usually watch the world go by. But Ferdinand explained that he wasn't lonesome and he was having a good time, and because she was an understanding mother (even if she was only a cow) she let him be.
All young bulls, no matter what their personality or behavioral quirks, must grow, and so Ferdinand also grew to be a big, strong, fearsome animal. Fearsome in appearance, that is - he still loved to sit and smell the flowers. All the other bulls would fight each other all day long, because they wanted to be one of the bulls chosen to be in the big bull fights in Madrid. But Ferdinand just watched, like always.
One day five men in very funny hats came down for Madrid to select which bulls would be chosen as the biggest, roughest, and fastest one of them all. So all the other bulls were butting each other and sticking each other with their sharp horns. They snorted and bucked and leaped and jumped so that the men would think they were very very strong and fierce and pick them. Ferdinand knew they would never pick him, and he didn't care, so what was the point of showing off? He walked to his favorite cork tree and sat down - right on A BEE. Bees do not enjoy being sat on. So this one stung Ferdinand, right on the rump. And that HURT! So Ferdinand rose up with a snort, and he ran around puffing and snorting, butting and pawing the ground as if he were crazy. The five men in the funny hats were delighted - this must be the bull for the trip to Madrid!
So they took him away in a funny-looking cart, and there was a great celebration in Madrid. (Mr. Ernest Hemingway writes a lot about it in his novel The Sun Also Rises.) Flags were flying, bands were playing, and (best of all for Ferdinand) all the ladies were wearing pretty-smelling flowers in their hair. There was a parade into the bullring - first came the Banderilleros with long pointy sticks to poke the bull and make him mad. And next came the Picadores on skinny, horses, who carried long sharp spears to jab the bull with and make him even madder. Finally came the Matador, who was very vain (for the ladies all thought he was quite handsome) and he had a red cape and a sword, and he was supposed to stick them into the bull last of all. And then after that came the bull. You know who that was, right? Yes, that's right - it was Ferdinand.
All the people in the crowd called him Ferdinand the Fierce and all the Banderilleros were afraid of him, and all the Picadores were afraid of him, and the Matador was scared stiff. Ferdinand ran into the middle of the ring, and everyone in the crowd cheered and clapped their hands, thinking that he would now act very fierce and scary and give them all a good show. But Ferdinand saw all the nice-smelling flowers the pretty ladies were wearing, and so he just sat down and smelled. This made the Banderilleros very mad, and it made the Picadores even madder, and the vain Matador was so mad he cried, because he couldn't show off with his fancy cape and sword.
So they had to take Ferdinand home, since he wouldn't fight. And for all I know, he may be there under his favorite cork tree still, smelling the flowers.
It would be hard to say how much I love this book. For one thing, fighting should only be done if it must (like if you are stung by a bee). Otherwise, it is much more interesting to watch all the other bulls in the pasture running and jumping and butting their heads together, because that is conflict, which is needed in a good story. And those come from long moments of sitting quietly and observing the world.
#Wesley
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