The Mailer Review/Volume 2, 2008/He Was a Fighter: Boxing in Norman Mailer’s Life and Work: Difference between revisions

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'''Boxing has provided a significant moral paradigm''' throughout much
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of Norman Mailer’s life and work. In his seminal essay entitled “Death” in
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''The Presidential Papers''(1963), Mailer uses the first Sonny Liston/Floyd Patterson
{{Byline|last=Leeds|first=Barry H.|abstract=Boxing has provided a significant moral paradigm throughout much of Norman Mailer’s life and work. Mailer’s significant writing about boxing begins with ''The Presidential Papers'' in the long and riveting essay entitled “Death,” originally titled “Ten Thousand Words a Minute,” one of his “Big Bite” columns for ''Esquire''. Not only does this piece prefigure and announce the new mode of Mailer’s nonfiction writing in the late 1960s and 1970s, notably ''The Armies of the Night'', it is the key to his fascination with boxing.|url=https://prmlr.us/mr08leed}}
championship bout as a point of departure from which to develop
a profound series of perceptions about the American national temperament,
particularly that of blacks. In ''King of the Hill''(1971) and more strikingly
in ''The Fight''(1975)he deals nominally with a specific championship
bout, but goes beyond journalism to find certain normative precepts in the
sport. But there is another level on which boxing informs and conditions
Mailer’s vision: In his fiction, most notably ''An American Dream''(1965)and
''Tough Guys Don’t Dance''(1984),boxing experiences help define the protagonists.
Stephen Richards Rojack and Tim Madden respectively find “the
reward of the ring” (''Dream 16'')applicable to their existential quests for self.
Ultimately,Mailer’s views on boxing are far from simplistic. From the powerful
account of Benny Paret’s death in the ring at the hands of Emile Griffith
to his statements to me about the ill-fated conclusion to Muhammad
Ali’s career to his 1988 article on Mike Tyson, “Fury, Fear, Philosophy,”
Mailer has found in this arena of ritualized violence a rich source of perception
about the human condition. In fact, in his 1993 essay in ''Esquire'',
“The Best Move Lies Next to the Worst” ~reprinted in ''The Time of Our
Time''!, he deals with his own boxing experiences at the Gramercy Gymwith
José Torres, Ryan O’Neal and others. The title of the piece comes from the
comparison of boxing to chess ''Time'' (1045–1052).
 
 
I believe it’s best to confront the central issue here at the outset.Mailer
has, indeed, perceived gladiatorial confrontation and violence as a central
metaphor for his own artistic and personal struggles for growth, fulfillment,
salvation.As hemuses retrospectively upon a turning point in his career during
his personal crises of the early 1960s,
 
 
[T]he review in Time @of Deaths for the Ladies#  put iron into my
  heart again, and rage, and the feeling that the  enemy was more
  alive than ever, and dirtier in the alley, and  so one had to mend,
  and put on the armor, and go to war, go out to war again, and
  try to hew huge strokes with the only broadsword God ever gave
  you, a glimpse of something like almighty prose.    (''Existential''''Errands'' 204)
 
 
Very well, then: Mailer unabashedly uses violent confrontation as a touchstone
for his vision of life and art. He has persistently perceived himself as
embattled. But witness the artistic regeneration, the prolific and truly significant
output that resulted as a direct consequence of this attitude.
Mailer’s significant writing about boxing begins with ''The Presidential
Papers'' in the long and riveting essay entitled “Death,” originally titled “Ten
ThousandWords a Minute,” one of his “Big Bite” columns for Esquire. Not
only does this piece prefigure and announce the newmode of Mailer’s nonfiction
writing in the late 1960s and 1970s, notably ''The Armies of the Night'',
it is the key to his fascination with boxing.
The first Patterson/Liston fight providesMailer an opportunity to embark
on a series of sophisticated statements on boxing and the national disposition.
But the center of the piece, as the title suggests, is the brutal killing of
Benny Paret in the ring by Emile Griffith. Let us deal with the most hideous
aspects of boxing first.Unlike most bouts, this one was fueled by an intense
hatred between the fighters. Here is Mailer’s description of the climax:
 
 
  In the twelfth, Griffith caught him. Paret got    trapped in a corner.
  Trying to duck away, his left arm and his head became tangled
  on the wrong side of the top rope. Griffith was in like a cat
  ready to rip the life out of a huge boxed rat.He hit him eighteen
  right hands in a row, an act which took perhaps three or four
  seconds, Griffith making a pent-up whimpering  sound all the while he attacked, the right hand  whipping like a piston rod
  which has broken through the crankcase, or like a baseball bat
  demolishing a pumpkin.... I had never seen one man hit
  another so hard and so many times. Over the  referee’s face came
  a look of woe as if some spasm had passed its way through him,
  and then he leaped on Griffith to pull him away.  It was the act of a brave man. Griffith was  uncontrollable.His trainer leaped into
  the ring, his manager, his cut man, there were four people holding
  Griffith, but he was off on an orgy, he had left the Garden, he
  was back on a hoodlum’s street. If he had been able to break
  loose from his handlers and the referee, he would have jumped
  Paret to the floor and whaled on him there.
And Paret? Paret died on his feet. As he took those eighteen
punches something happened to everyone who was in psychic
range of the event. Some part of his death reached out to us.One
felt it hover in the air.He was still standing in the ropes, trapped
as he had been before, he gave some little half-smile of regret, as
if he were saying, ‘I didn’t know I was going to die just yet,’ and
then, his head leaning back but still erect, his death came to
breathe about him. (“Death” 244–245)
This event was not, of course, taken lightly by the public: “There was shock
in the land.... There were editorials, gloomy forecasts that the Game was
dead. The managers and the prizefighters got together. Gently, in thick,
depressed hypocrisies, they tried to defend their sport” ~245!.
Mailer goes on to delve into that species of blood religion to which fight
people adhere and the kind of mystery it has lent to the works of such writers
as D. H. Lawrence and Ernest Hemingway. And what of Mailer’s own
response?
  Something in boxing was spoiled.... I loved it with freedom no
  longer. It was more like somebody in your family  was fighting
  now.And the feeling one had for a big fight was no longer clear of
  terror in its excitement.There was awe in the suspense. (247–248)
Professional boxing, then, presents difficultmoral problems toMailer as well
as to any humane person. This does not, I submit, obviate its significance in
B A R R Y H. L E E D S { 387
Mailer’s work as a test of courage. I would suggest that it is in the exercise of
disciplined skill, resourcefulness, stoicism, the force of will in the face of risk,
that the human spirit is capable of reaching its peak expression.
Another case in point is King of the Hill, a modest little book originally
published as a long article in Life magazine ~with photographs by Frank
Sinatra!, dealing withMuhammad Ali’s hard-fought defeat at the hands of
Joe Frazier after his three year enforced layoff from boxing. As in “Death,”
the opponents assume symbolic, almostmythic proportions. Central to this
is Mailer’s pervasive Manichean vision of the cosmos, even down to Ali’s
twin poodles named “Angel” and “Demon.” But the conclusion is most significant
to Mailer’s last work:
 
 
  [Y]et Ali got up, Ali came sliding through the last two minutes
and thirty-five seconds of this heathen holocaust in some last
exercise of the will, some iron fundament of the ego not to be
  knocked out, and it was then as if the spirit of Harlem finally
  spoke and came to rescue and the ghosts of the  dead inVietnam,
  something held him up before arm-weary triumphant near crazy
  Frazier who had just hit him the hardest punch ever
  thrown in his life and they went down to the last few seconds of
  a great fight, Ali still standing and Frazier had won.
  The world was talking instantly of a rematch. For Ali had
  shown America what we all had hoped was secretly true.He was
    a man.He could bear moral and physical torture and he could
  stand.And if he could beat Frazier in the rematch  we would have
  at last a national hero who was hero of the world as well. (''King'' 92–92)

Revision as of 08:03, 5 September 2020

« The Mailer ReviewVolume 2 Number 1 • 2008 • In Memorium: Norman Mailer: 1923–2007 »
Written by
Barry H. Leeds
Abstract: Boxing has provided a significant moral paradigm throughout much of Norman Mailer’s life and work. Mailer’s significant writing about boxing begins with The Presidential Papers in the long and riveting essay entitled “Death,” originally titled “Ten Thousand Words a Minute,” one of his “Big Bite” columns for Esquire. Not only does this piece prefigure and announce the new mode of Mailer’s nonfiction writing in the late 1960s and 1970s, notably The Armies of the Night, it is the key to his fascination with boxing.
URL: https://prmlr.us/mr08leed