am 9. Mai 2000
Despite some pretentiousness, many redundancies, and an often poorly stitched together narrative, Joyce Carol Oates brings a scalpel-like insight to the incomparable phenomenon that is boxing. She will deepen your understanding -- and take your breath away.
I wonder what Miss Oates thinks of the apparent growing popularity of female boxers (surely, the oxymoron non pareil). My guess is that she sees it for precisely what it is -- political correctness carried to its ultimate and inevitable fatuity. A woman who boxes may be to drool over by lipstick lesbians, but she will always be that absurd and grotesque anomaly -- a woman who boxes. The one thing she'll never be is a "Boxer."
Perhaps another book will be forthcoming from Miss Oates, one that will explore this perversion of the "Sweet Science." My guess is not -- why waste time on the ridiculous when, in "On Boxing," she has spoken so well on what is sublime.
am 2. März 1999
Six years of bouts with local bruisers and grainy films of Marciano and Louis, and I retired with my fascination intact. Before I chanced upon Oates no book on boxing quite took me beyond the physical. An extraordinary insightful book that subtly find its way to the soul of this controversial sport.