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A review by glabour
The Sweet Science by A.J. Liebling
1.0
If Sports Illustrated considers this to be the best sports book ever written, then I don't think I'll read a book about sports ever again.
Did I finish this book? No. Did I like this book? Sort of. Why am I marking it as read? Because I consider a DNF to be a book that I either a) have read less than half of or b) have the intention to pick it up later.
I read over half of this book, and I typically finish a book when I get past the halfway point out of some rule in my head.
A.J. Liebling's The Sweet Science is a book I simply could not finish. I'll admit, the first half was interesting. I liked the discussion of fighters like Rocky Marciano, Sugar Ray Robinson, and Joe Louis. Then, in the last section of the book called "Other Fronts," which takes up the second half, the structure and any form of narrative falls apart. This section feels like the first drafts Liebling did before honing his skills and creating the first half of the book. I say this because the structures of each "story" in "Other Fronts" follows the same structure every time .
It goes as follows: Description of fight written about by Pierce Egan, description of boxer's previous fights, description of manager, description of training, description of boxer, description of opponent, description of opponent's manager, description of opponent's training, description of the day leading up to the fight, description of the fight, and a final quip. It's this way every single time, even in the parts I found interesting. When I lost interest in the fighters and boxing as a whole, which, the book became a constant slog.
The introduction of my edition states that Liebling is an important journalist because he began to write in a "New Journalism" style 15 years before the term was coined by Tom Wolfe. Liebling's style, however, is still trapped in the early 1950s. New Journalism typically placed the reporter as a central character in the story, but Liebling is more of a drifting shadow in these stories.
If Liebling's point about boxing is that, at the end of the day, all of the fighters regardless of race all boil down to the same type of person - a dedicated poor man who sees fighting as his only way of making it in the world - then he has succeeded in spades. I don't think I needed 30 examples of this to get that point. Since I don't believe this is Liebling's point and since he seems to be writing this book as a love letter to the sport, I think the book falls short of its goal.
And, to the editors of Sports Illustrated , I say this: Just because a book was the first to do something doesn't mean it is the best to do it.
If you want to feel like you're in the 1950s reading a newspaper article and chuckling at very very dry and very very mild humor, read a section of this book each day and enjoy your pipe.
Did I finish this book? No. Did I like this book? Sort of. Why am I marking it as read? Because I consider a DNF to be a book that I either a) have read less than half of or b) have the intention to pick it up later.
I read over half of this book, and I typically finish a book when I get past the halfway point out of some rule in my head.
A.J. Liebling's The Sweet Science is a book I simply could not finish. I'll admit, the first half was interesting. I liked the discussion of fighters like Rocky Marciano, Sugar Ray Robinson, and Joe Louis. Then, in the last section of the book called "Other Fronts," which takes up the second half, the structure and any form of narrative falls apart. This section feels like the first drafts Liebling did before honing his skills and creating the first half of the book. I say this because the structures of each "story" in "Other Fronts" follows the same structure every time .
It goes as follows: Description of fight written about by Pierce Egan, description of boxer's previous fights, description of manager, description of training, description of boxer, description of opponent, description of opponent's manager, description of opponent's training, description of the day leading up to the fight, description of the fight, and a final quip. It's this way every single time, even in the parts I found interesting. When I lost interest in the fighters and boxing as a whole, which, the book became a constant slog.
The introduction of my edition states that Liebling is an important journalist because he began to write in a "New Journalism" style 15 years before the term was coined by Tom Wolfe. Liebling's style, however, is still trapped in the early 1950s. New Journalism typically placed the reporter as a central character in the story, but Liebling is more of a drifting shadow in these stories.
If Liebling's point about boxing is that, at the end of the day, all of the fighters regardless of race all boil down to the same type of person - a dedicated poor man who sees fighting as his only way of making it in the world - then he has succeeded in spades. I don't think I needed 30 examples of this to get that point. Since I don't believe this is Liebling's point and since he seems to be writing this book as a love letter to the sport, I think the book falls short of its goal.
And, to the editors of Sports Illustrated , I say this: Just because a book was the first to do something doesn't mean it is the best to do it.
If you want to feel like you're in the 1950s reading a newspaper article and chuckling at very very dry and very very mild humor, read a section of this book each day and enjoy your pipe.