The flying man
I saw him suspended in the air, as if for an instant, the laws of gravity gave him truce. He had his arms extended as if he were flying. He floated, oblivious to physics, oblivious to time… His body reflected a shiny light.
All of a sudden, one turn. Two turns. Three turns… all while plunging down in relentless style. An authentic aerial maneuver worthy of Olympic gymnasts.
In the background: the screams of the people. The suspense splashing through the stands… The feeling of euphoria and fear at the same time…
I never thought that I would like the Lucha Libre so much.
I felt like the first time I went to see a movie as a child: impatient, excited, impressed... The experience was completely new to me, and I loved it.
Lucha Libre in México
The first wrestling performances in Mexico began as foreign exhibitions in the mid-19th century, during the time of the French intervention. In 1922, Salvador Lutteroth, a former lieutenant of the Revolution, and today considered the father of wrestling, created the Mexican Wrestling Company, now known as the Consejo Mundial de la Lucha Libre (World Wrestling Council).
They celebrated their first function in September 1933, inaugurating the Arena México, the place where I, 90 years later, from Ring N, in row 12, watched my first Lucha Libre event in amazement.
The historic Arena México is in the center of Mexico City, standing proud amid workshops, corner taquerias, and street sales of luchador masks, pins, and socks. It is here where some of the most exciting wrestling shows in the world are held.
In this country, wrestling is the second most popular sport-show, just below soccer. This is where mythical characters from popular culture have come from, such as el Santo, Blue Demon, and Huracán Ramírez.
But what was it that I liked so much about this event? We had 3 weeks left in Mexico City and I went twice, although I wish I could’ve gone more. Why?
#1: Moves and Tricks
Maybe it was the moves and tricks. When it started, Mexican wrestling began to develop its own techniques, stunts, rules and folklore, gradually gaining great popularity. The jumps out of the ring, the locks at ground level and the use of the ropes to push themselves are part of the unique style of Mexican wrestling. The styles are characterized by high acrobatics, as well as dangerous jumps out of the ring. These styles have now been adopted in other countries.
Perhaps what I am about to say is an aberration, but I think that wrestling tricks are not so different from other exhibitions that, due to their timing and synchronization, look beautiful and magical: the somersaults of a dancer, the agility on the fingers of a guitarist, the sequence of perfect passes from a soccer team… The only difference is that in wrestling, the audience is on the brink, making calculated estimates of whether the last jump is going to end in a relentless slide around the ring, or rather a painful fall onto a nimble opponent who knows how to take off at the last second. It’s nerve wracking.
Does it look so real that it seems choreographed? Or is it so well choreographed that it looks very real?
When wrestlers enter the ring, they’re divided into two camps: los rudos y los técnicos. The rude and the technical. The technicals are characterized by the principles of honesty, loyalty and courage. This is where the mythical figure of the hero rests. Their moves are beautiful to watch.
The rude are characterized by some anti-values such as irreverence, impudence and cowardice, in addition to carrying out acts such as betrayals and trickery. Their moves are almost too aggressive, and are usually accompanied by lots of boo-ing.
So almost as soon as the wrestlers are introduced (amongst loud music and fanfare), you as a spectator take a side. And automatically, you become part of a story between the good and evil.
So let’s recap. The moves and tricks are impressive, and they vary depending on in which camp you are. But this wasn’t quite what got me so excited about Lucha Libra… So what was it then?
#2: People and atmosphere
This little chronicle is an excerpt from a magazine article published in 2004:
Was this a historic fight? From the point of view of the large number of viewers, the battle passes as one of the most interesting. More than twelve thousand souls crowded into the Coliseum - like sardines in a can - and on television the number was fantastic. For the rest, the contest was only notable for the third fall, which was very close.
When the referee's three slaps decreed the defeat of Black Shadow, El Santo emerged powerful in a climate of interest that reigned in the Colosseum to see Black Shadow without a hood. El Santo wanted to be the one to untie his cloak, but Blue Demon "repelled" the attack.
El Santo insisted and Black Shadow hit the enemy and threw him out of the ring. Then, with ceremonial elegance, his mask fell and his face presented a youthful appearance, abundant black hair, thick eyebrows, rugged features, and a deep gaze. He is from León, Guanajuato, and his name is: Alejandro Cruz.1
Lucha Libre in Mexico is a blender of mythologies: the Mayans, Aztecs, Teotihuacans and even Japanese cultures present themselves in the ring, while people of different ages, genders and social classes gather to observe the action, all this concentrated in one place: The Arena.
When I was there, I saw from newborn children, to teenagers and grandparents (the second and third groups were screaming at the top of their lungs). In one of the front rows, a proud dad was lifting his two-year-old daughter up by her legs so she could had a full view of the fight. The girl did not stop laughing and clapping. Boys, girls, young people, locals, tourists, old people... At Arena México, all the differences seem to become one thing: a joint emotion that unleashes the public’s nervousness and adrenaline with shouts and applause.
The atmosphere is electrifying. After all, there's something liberating about coming out of a day's work at the office to vent frustrations, or cheer on a favorite character in a crowded arena.
Perhaps it’s the people in the public that make this event so special...
Without a doubt the atmosphere contributes, but that's not exactly everything...
#3: Masks and stories
In Mexico, many of the wrestlers use masks to hide their true identity and create an image that gives them a special personality. A mask hides glances, reactions and gestures… It is a shield that adds a layer of strength. It also imposes a thin barrier between the fighter, and the guy who packs his suitcase after a show to return home to his wife and kids.
In the Lucha México documentary, Blue Demon revealed that he wears his mask more than 90% of the time to preserve his private life from his identity as a wrestler.
A wrestler’s mask is given the nature of a myth. It’s how these mythological beings who embrace different personalities choose to write their own identity and their own history. The masked fighter has a battle name and fights with it as a flag. When he loses, he leaves that personality behind, and becomes a mere mortal like everyone else…
Aside from winning, one of the goals of wrestling is to tell a story in the ring and thrill the crowd with it. Reality and fiction are permanently intertwined in order to maintain the illusion of the storylines.
In the chapter “Máscaras Mexicanas” (Mexican Masks) of his book "El Laberinto de la Soledad", Octavio Paz talks about how being Mexican is distinguished by its various facets. Despite being a singular being, the Mexican "is always far, far of the world and of others. Also far from himself.” Subjugated to the circle of solitude, the Mexican has the possibility of wearing masks to protect or hide his privacy...
So masks tell stories, keep secrets, protect identities, and convey a stoic attitude in the face of blows.
And so far it makes sense. What’s so captivating about the Lucha Libre is the stories. No big surprise.
But even though I’m getting closer to the answer. I’m not there yet. There has to be something else…
So what’s the secret ingredient?
We’ve seen that a lot of the magic of Lucha Libre is in the tricks, the people, the atmosphere, and in the wrestlers and the stories behind their masks… Even so, I still couldn't put my finger on what was it exactly that made me so excited and curious about the whole thing.
And then I came across this video on Steven Spielberg which talks about what makes his movies so magical. And as I was watching it… if finally clicked! What makes Steven Spielberg’s movies so special, is exactly what makes a Lucha Libre event at Arena México so exhilarating. The video talks about two things that Spielberg does repeatedly:
1. He tells stories about ordinary people who are a lot like the folks in his audience (take Jaw's Martin Brody, who is a blue-collar police chief tired of the day-to-day bureaucracy...) The focus on ordinary people increases the drama when extraordinary things start happening to them.
2. A combination of fear and astonishment (at the same time) that creates WONDER. That's Spielberg's secret.
Besides the stories, fear and astonishment are exactly what makes wrestling so special. It combines fear on the one hand (maybe Volador Junior shouldn't jump off the top rope doing a diagonal turn towards his opponent who is lying on the ground, outside the ring), and on the other hand astonishment (but look at that turn! That height! Those perfect spins…!)
The chief prevention against getting old is to remain astonished. Kevin Kelly
Spielberg has always understood that people want to experience something outside the norm in his films.
The shark in JAWS is a terrifying killing machine, but when Brody says: “We're going to need a bigger boat”, we can't help but want to see it! First comes the fear, then the astonishment.
Elliot’s initial meeting with ET sparks the same two feelings
Same thing when Alan Grant learns that Jurassic Park has bred a T-Rex…
At the Arena México, you experience both things repeatedly. The fear of watching a wrestler lose his mask. The astonishment of getting to know who he really is. The astonishment of a perfectly executed Japanese arm drag. The fear that someone could be really hurt.
We want to feel the fear and astonishment in facing the unknown and the wonder when both are ignited in us at the same time (I’ve talked about this before with the example of this kid rolling down a hill at full speed inside a wheel. Fear + astonishment = wonder).
A few notes on Wonder
Adam Smith wrote that wonder arises ‘when something quite new and singular is presented… [and] memory cannot, from all its stores, cast up any image that nearly resembles this strange appearance’. Smith’s analysis appears in his History of Astronomy (1795), in which he proposed that wonder is crucial for science. Astronomers, for instance, are moved by it to investigate the night sky.
Jesse Prinz’s article provides other examples and definitions:
René Descartes, in his Discourse on the Method (1637), described wonder as the emotion that motivates scientists to investigate rainbows and other strange phenomena.
Socrates said that philosophy begins in wonder: that wonder is what leads us to try to understand our world.
Richard Dawkins has portrayed wonder as a wellspring from which scientific inquiry begins.
Descartes claimed that wonder was innate in human beings; in fact, he called it our most fundamental emotion.
Rachel Carson also posited an inborn sense of wonder, one especially prevalent in children.
This made me think about the role of wonder in learning. In wonderment, we are suddenly taken by surprise, which causes us to pay special attention to the objects that we find rare and extraordinary. Shouldn’t we approach learning new things with this in mind?
Descartes wrote that wonderment affects the brain in parts in which it is unaccustomed to be affected; and since these parts are softer or less firm than those hardened by frequent stimulation, the movements produced there have all the more impact.
Could wonder have an effect on how well we learn and remember something?
Although I don’t have an answer to this question yet, I do consider important to explore how do we cultivate more wonder in our day-to-day life…
Wonder is the accidental impetus behind our greatest achievements. Art, science and religion are inventions for feeding the appetite that wonder excites in us. —Jesse Prinz
How to awaken wonder
Below is a collection of ideas from other people (more than ideas, experiments), that I believe could awaken wonder. Instead of a scientific list, it’s an invitation.
Remove Assumptions: “… Research confirms that because children are less burdened by expectations about the way things should be, they are, in some settings, more flexible thinkers and better problem-solvers than adults.”
Be curious. For a great payoff, be especially curious about the things you are not interested in (Kevin Kelly).
Have a beginners mindset. In the beginner’s mind, possibilities are endless, and in the expert’s mind, they’re few. In this state of not knowing, curiosity and engagement with the world arises. And that engagement, that curiosity is intimate and very, very alive. (From Ezra Klein’s interview with Ruth Ozeki, a novelist).
Start taking note of things you don’t actually understand. Something you never really noticed until you started this exercise. Something wonderful. Some problem that could be fixed. A problem that can’t be fixed. Something that’s missing. Take a walk and come back with a list of 10 things you just realized that you don’t know (Rob Walker).
Seek out what magnifies your spirit. Who are the people, ideas, and books that magnify your spirit? Find them, hold on to them, and visit them often (María Popova, from The Marginalian).
Broaden your life as it grows shorter: “Make your interests gradually wider and more impersonal, until bit by bit the walls of the ego recede, and your life becomes increasingly merged in the universal life. An individual human existence should be like a river — small at first, narrowly contained within its banks, and rushing passionately past rocks and over waterfalls. Gradually the river grows wider, the banks recede, the waters flow more quietly, and in the end, without any visible break, they become merged in the sea, and painlessly lose their individual being.” (Bertrand Russell on Portraits From Memory and Other Essays).
So how do we return to our lives – to the awe of existence – and reclaim a sense of wonder? Well, for me, it had something to do with work but it also had something to do with community. Work and community […] I sat and wrote and wrote, and in doing so I found a way back […] I found with some practice the imagination could propel itself beyond the personal into a state of wonder… (Nic Cave)
Searching for the light
This image from 1977’s Close Encounters of the Third Kind, sums up Steven Spielberg’s master career. It reflects wonder.
“We want to gleefully throw open that big door like little Berry and take a long, hard look at that beautiful and awful light so full of promise and danger…”
*
So that explains it. For someone not particularly interested about wrestling matches, what made Lucha Libre so special to me was this sense of wonder. What other things could I look at now with that same pair of glasses? Maybe life can become more adventurous if I’m deliberately approaching experiences that are both frightening and surprising.
I also have other unanswered questions, like: What’s the difference between wonder and curiosity? How can we use more wonder in learning? What drives wonder into action?
But I’ll save those for another time…
Miraz, Leopoldo, 2004. “The Black Shadow perdió su incógnita”. Revista Luna Córnea, #27.
* Thumbnail picture by Claudia Raya.