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ALS signed “I love you, Big Kitten,” adding his personal symbol—a sketch of three mountains with "KUSS" at center—three pages both sides, 8.5 x 10.75, Hotel Suecia, Madrid letterhead, August 20, 1959. Handwritten letter to his wife Mary, "My dearest Kitten," in full: "Not bad weather here. Was cold under the sheet alone. Wonderful ride down. Too fast. Mario at his fastest 160 Kph on the good stretches. (We were late getting away having to attend Herby sick) with sick headache. His 18 hr drive ruined him. He's very fragile really and too underweight for that sort of thing. So he missed Ciudad Real where Antonio was unbelievable 5 ears, 2 tails, two hoofs. Hotch [A. E. Hotchner] did the Paseo as Sobre-solamente and looked great. I loaded him in Yarreros and he did wonderfully. We got back to Hotel in time to eat at Coelyon and then were delayed getting off in the morning having to find someone to take Pembroke Cozal and my letter to you and having to make a definite entry on with my passport etc. That was why Mario drove so fast. Car and road so good that it was safe and he drove fast but carefully. Bilboa very stuffy. Everybody with ties, as usual in Spanish hotel no place to write, am sitting on a chair with no cushions on it and writing on dresser.
Antonio was almost as wonderful as at Malaga or Ciudad Real on two bulls day before yest[erday] ears and tails. Miguel bad yesterday. Nerves bad, can't go on to kill, reflexes shot and his knee hurts him from that Malaga tossing. He behaves beautifully in adversity but where the horns are not sleaved (as yesterday) he is terribly scared. At Dax they were sleaved but he couldn't get going even that way. He had the one surge of comeback in Malaga—But the tossing there took his confidence. He always asks about you and sends loving messages. Keep close with him to be loyal and honest and to observe truly. We've stayed good friends. Antonio is like a lion—I mean the huge lion at Roy's little Theater. He's cut the ears of everything he's fought since you saw him except one bad bull in Santander. He fights this afternoon with Jaime and that miserable Miguelia. Honey there's no fight at Antequera—It's Almagro. Antonio is fighting 26th at Santander now. But we'll come home from Almagro where we meet you and Annie to go to Puerto Santa Maria.
Tell Rene to sell the cow please. Don't know what correction you mean in cable about Antonio's fees in May. Don't think it sounds worth correcting. Am getting terrific stuff. Drink wine only and not too much. Have done my duty with Don Andre's sister and brother in law…
Betty Bogart [Lauren Bacall] showed up yesterday with some very nice Peruvian French Spanish countess named Nicole that you would like. I met her at Bayonne. Mario has just been in touch with our papers insurance, etc. etc. all in Italian and have lost train of thought. He's flying back tomorrow night to Rome. Yesterday Negro [Bill Davis], Hotch, Pecos and Pecos II drove over the mountains to Bermeo where the F—— threw the Italians into the sea.
They certainly looked capable of it. I explained the car was Italian but not us. Hotch took good pictures. Valerie did not go as was at Dentists. Herby sleeping on cot in her bath room. Feria. But is a stuffy feria. Bullfighters in neckties made curse elegance. I can't achieve true elegance as left my shoes in Bayonne when made the fast air plane exit and am in the Navaho mocassins so can only be elegant to the ankles. Will pick up shoes on way to Dax day after tomorrow.
The way Miguel looked and fought yesterday I think he might well cancel out his fights for next 6 or 8 days. But you cant tell. Antonio has him whipped [Miguel in fact gets badly gored by a bull that day and almost died]. But yesterday was first time his fear really showed.
Think I've about handled everything except how much I love my Kitten and how much I miss you. The life, the hours, the road and the strain are impossible as you know. But night before last, after the Antonio fight I went right to bed, read, and ate in bed while the others went out and yesterday had good healthy day in the country. We went out to excellent Basque restaurant last night. Lois and V[alerie] both got ill I think from drinking the too heavy red wine too fast at the Bar while the food was being prepared. L. Bacall pretty strident while telling us all we didn't know what a great fighter Luis Miguel is etc. She's like a baseball fan for the Dodgers. Not like someone who knows or who is trying to learn. Antonio asked me to send you his love when I write. Here it is.
Please give my best love to Annie. Hope you got car fixed up OK and had a good trip…I wish I was coming down the stairs to the pool now. Please kiss Annie and Hercules the dog for me. This is about as tough a schedule as Napoleon's retreat from Moscow only we are the Cossacks and L. Miguel is Napoleon. Am afraid he will soon board his coach with Caulaincourt and then I'll be Ney again for Scribners and Life—an easy role and doesn't quite make sense. But bull fighting doesn't make sense either but God how Antonio does it. All my love and at Almagro." In fine condition. Accompanied by a custom-made quarter-leather presentation folder.
At age sixty, Hemingway spent the summer of 1959 following Antonio Ordonez and Luis Miguel Dominguin in their round of bullfights. In Hemingway: A Life Story, Carlos Baker reports that by August the group had 'dwindled to nine—Lanham, Gianfranco and Cristina, Bill and Annie, Valerie and Aaron, and the Hemingways. At the first corrida both Antonio and Luis Miguel were apprehensive. The afternoon grew dark and the lights were on when Dominguon's last bull charged in. On the ninth pass the bull threw Dominguin onto the sand. Before Antonio could interfere, the animal gored Dominguin in the groin. Three days later, both matadors were hospitalized. The mano a mano contests between Antonio and Luis Miguel were grist to Ernest's mill. He had contracted to do a bullfight article for Life magazine, and was keeping notes for the purpose. The climax of the duel was reached at Malaga in the middle of August when both matadors ignored their bandages in a magnificent display of skill and courage. Then bad luck returned. A week later in Bilbao, Dominguin was gored so seriously that he was obliged to retire for the rest of the season. He was back in the Sanatorio Ruber once again when Antonio, fighting at Dax across the French border, sustained a foot injury serious enough to put him in the hospital at San Sebastian. Ernest stayed by his friend's side until the worst of the pain was gone. Then he bade him a tender good-bye and set out for Madrid in the new Lancia, with Valerie beside him and Davis driving. Just outside Aranda de Duero south of Burgos the right front tire blew out. The car mowed down five stone slabs along the shoulder of the road. No one was hurt, but the whole front of the car was demolished. Next day Ernest admitted sadly that he had had enough of spectator sports.'
Back in Miami, Hemingway worked on the article for Life. Although the magazine had asked for 10,000 words, Hemingway, by May 28, 1960, had written 120,000 words. Writes Baker: 'Three weeks later he summoned Aaron Hotchner to help him cut the typescript. With infinite labor, they managed to delete some 50,000 words. Hotchner carried the abridged version back to New York. Even the abridgment was more than twice too long, but Ed Thompson, the managing editor, agreed to buy a selection of it for $90,000, with another $10,000 for reprint rights in the Spanish language edition. It was now called 'The Dangerous Summer,' in allusion to the mano a mano combats of 1959.'
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