Given that he is easily one of the most famous, most charismatic figures of the twentieth century, it would almost be a perverse achievement to write a dull book about Muhammad Ali. But Jonathan Eig - whose “Ali: A Life” sets out to be the definitive biography of Muhammad Ali, from his upbringing in Kentucky in the 1940s until his death in 2016 - is following in illustrious literary footsteps here. Such literary giants as Norman Mailer, Joyce Carol Oates, and George Plimpton and such skilled biographers as David Remnick and Thomas Hauser have already produced brilliant volumes that have explored the immense charm and magnetism, the courage and bravery, the religious and political militancy of Muhammad Ali – a man who was once one of the most polarising figures in American life, but who went on to become one of the most loved. Thankfully, Jonathan Eig’s comprehensive biography is a worthy addition to the rich canon of literature and publications on Muhammad Ali.
Produced from almost 600 interviews with the key figures from Muhammad Ali’s life – and making use of new research into Ali’s boxing career and medical history – Eig shows how Ali developed from being a boxing-obsessed, hyperactive loudmouthed teen whose “attention was focused on boxing, girls, cars, money, and mirrors” to the most famous (and, at times, the most hated) man in the history of sport. That Ali occupies such a space in our firmament of celebrities and sportsmen was in no small part down to the fact that, not only was he an incredible athletic specimen, but he was also a marketing genius. As Eig credibly claims, “no athlete in American history had ever been so conscious of the power of brand building”. What makes Ali such a compelling character – and such a goldmine for biographers and historians – is that he was an absolute mass of contradictions. Eig believes that these contradictions came out of Ali’s constant craving for publicity and attention: “It turned him into a fighter who said he didn’t care to fight … a radical who wanted to be a popular entertainer, an extravagant spender who said money meant nothing to him … an anti-war protester who avoided organised demonstrations … a religiously devout and demanding husband who openly cheated on his wife”.
Jonathan Eig is a huge admirer of Muhammad Ali, but unlike a few previous biographers of Ali, he is no awestruck sycophant, and this book is no hagiography. There is no attempt to whitewash his longstanding involvement with the Nation of Islam (as detailed in this book, Ali’s prevarication when that organisation ostracised and threatened Malcolm X – before eventually assassinating him – was deeply troubling). Eig repeatedly draws attention to Ali’s propensity to viciously belittle - and frequently race-bait - his black opponents. Whether it was part of a marketing stunt to drive ticket sales or not, it is nauseating to see a supposed civil rights icon disparage men like Joe Frazier as an “Uncle Tom”; thus, in the words of Eig, “undercutting what he claimed to be one of his primary goals: the uplift of black people ... denigrating strong, honourable, hard-working black men with whom he should have stood shoulder-to-shoulder as symbols of pride, men worthy of admiration from black and white Americans”.
Even the most casual observer of Ali’s life will be unsurprised to hear that, in terms of his personal life, he wasn’t exactly a model of fidelity and faithfulness (Eig labels him a man “unfettered by marital convention”). But, the sheer scale of his womanising as outlined in this book is staggering. Seemingly, throughout his life, Ali would screw anything that wasn’t nailed down first. Nonetheless, it is jaw dropping to read of his preparation for his first battle with Joe Frazier, which involved Ali picking up prostitutes on the afternoon of the fight and bringing them back to the very same hotel in which his wife and children were staying! Eig ascribes this compulsion as being down to Ali “fearing isolation far more than he feared Joe Frazier”, which appears to be quite a charitable interpretation.
Reading Eig’s account of Muhammad Ali’s boxing career, you get the impression that the ‘Rumble in the Jungle’ (when Ali defeated George Foreman to regain the heavyweight championship by deploying his ‘rope-a-dope’ tactic) was possibly the worst thing to ever happen to Ali. His shock victory in the ‘Rumble in the Jungle’ convinced Ali he could triumph, not through using the speedy reflexes that were the hallmark of his early career, but by opening himself to unmerciful pummellings at the hands of his opponents in the hope of wearing them out. ‘Rope-a-dope’ worked once, spectacularly, but as Eig speculates it most likely had a ruinous effect on Ali’s long-term health.
When this physical courage and tactical recklessness was combined with Muhammad Ali’s notoriously chaotic approach to personal finance, you can see why he continued his boxing career long after it would have been medically advisable to do so. The need to maintain the lavish lifestyle he had become accustomed to – and to maintain the lifestyles of the vast retinue of hangers-on that he had accumulated – meant Ali having to return to the well and take beatings off younger, quicker adversaries throughout the 1970s. Jonathan Eig sadly notes how Ali was a man who “sacrificed his health and reputation for the pursuit of the next paycheck” and “shots to the head were the price he would pay to continue his career”.
Some of the freshest research that Jonathan Eig has done for this book involves a statistical analysis of all of Ali’s fights, breaking down how many times he hit his opponents and how he many times he was hit (and where, and how hard). Drawing on statistics from the computerized scoring system CompuBox, Eig’s analysis of the first half of Ali’s career (essentially before he was banned over his anti-Vietnam war stance) shows that he was unbeatable … and unhittable. But, when he returned to the ring after a 4-year ban, he was slower, less agile, and shipped far more punishment at the hands of his opponents (by his final nine fights, he was getting hit by twice as many punches as he was landing). All of this contributed to the desperately sad spectacle that Eig describes, of Ali in the final phase of his fighting career: “he had lost his legs, lost his reflexes, lost his quick hands, lost everything but his guile and his willingness to suffer and endure”.
Something I found disappointing about “Ali: A Life” is that Jonathan Eig skirts over the last three decades of Muhammad Ali’s life in little more than 30 pages. Given that it is twenty years plus since the publication of what were previously seen as the definitive Ali biographies (by Thomas Hauser, David Remnick, et al), it is perplexing that Eig doesn’t significantly expand on those works and undertakes only a cursory examination of Ali’s (admittedly illness-wracked) later years.
As to where this book would rank in the catalogue of literature on Ali, pound-for-pound it is up there with what would have previously been considered the most complete biography of the man: Thomas Hauser’s magisterial “Muhammad Ali: His Life and Times”. Jonathan Eig doesn’t pull any punches when describing Ali’s many flaws and contradictions, but “Ali: a Life” is a far better book for showing the rounded character – warts and all – rather than a candidate for sainthood. While it is impeccably and exhaustively researched, it probably doesn’t contain that many revelations which a reader of Hauser or Remnick’s biographies would be unfamiliar with. However, if you have yet to read a book on Muhammad Ali, this would be an excellent place to start. Johnathan Eig has written a marvellous account of a truly extraordinary life.