Each law, however, gets its own chapter: “Conceal Your Intentions,” “Always Say Less Than Necessary,” “Pose as a Friend, Work as a Spy,” and so on. These laws boil down to being as ruthless, selfish, manipulative, and deceitful as possible. This power game can be played well or poorly, and in these 48 laws culled from the history and wisdom of the world’s greatest power players are the rules that must be followed to win. We live today as courtiers once did in royal courts: we must appear civil while attempting to crush all those around us. The authors have created a sort of anti-Book of Virtues in this encyclopedic compendium of the ways and means of power.Įveryone wants power and everyone is in a constant duplicitous game to gain more power at the expense of others, according to Greene, a screenwriter and former editor at Esquire (Elffers, a book packager, designed the volume, with its attractive marginalia). But no matter: This is a great look at “a warrior who came to symbolize love.” (16 pages b&w photos, not seen) (Author tour) Remnick tails off with Ali’s 1967 refusal of the military draft and his subsequent suspension, not going into quite enough depth to explain Ali’s virtual canonization by the American press and public. Remnick’s reenactment of that one-punch, “phantom punch” knockout in the first round is brilliant. But he kept winning, beating Liston yet again in 1965 in the most controversial hit in heavyweight history. His friendship with Malcolm X and his espousal of the Black Muslim creed, along with his promotional rantings of “I am the greatest!,” did not endear him to the public. It was shortly after the fight that Ali’s association with the Nation of Islam was revealed. Remick does a fantastic job of setting the stage for that February 1964 fight, noting that even Clay’s people had their doubts: One insider merely hoped “that Clay wouldn’t get hurt.” The jabbering, taunting Clay pummeled the plodding, dispirited Liston, who simply quit after the sixth round. little more than a light-hitting loudmouth.” Clay was no one’s pick to steal the title from the overpowering Liston. Despite his 1960 Olympic gold medal, his obvious speed, and his boxing skills, sportswriters hated the impudent young fighter. The brash, poetry-spouting Cassius Clay (as he was still known) fit neither stereotype. Patterson was cast as the good, humble Negro aligned with God Liston, an ex-con who worked as an enforcer for the mob, as the big, bad, scary black. His profiles of both men are remarkable studies of the sociological backdrop for Ali’s entrance upon the scene. Remnick (Resurrection, 1997, etc.), the Pulitzer Prize winner who is now editor of the New Yorker, opens-wisely-with the September 1962 fight between Floyd Patterson and Sonny Liston. A literate, intelligent evocation of the great heavyweight champion.

David remnick ali