Among the Greatest: At Evanston's Bookends & Beginnings, Jonathan Eig Speaks About His Comprehensive New Biography, 'Ali: A Life'

Book Event Recap

Ali: A Life
by Jonathan Eig
Bookends & Beginnings, Evanston, IL
November 7, 2017
Book website | Store website

"Why did a black man growing up in the 1940s and '50s think he could be special?"

"If you can't answer that, don't write the book."

This is what renowned African-American comedian and activist Dick Gregory told Jonathan Eig was central to the noted journalist and author writing a new biography about Muhammad Ali.

Eig himself relayed Gregory's contention and challenge Tuesday evening in an engaging presentation promoting Ali: A Life, the 539-page result of a 4-1/2 year effort during which time both Ali and Gregory have passed.

A graduate of Northwestern University's Medill School of Journalism, Eig was appearing just blocks away at Evanston's Bookends & Beginnings, an independent bookstore in the spot occupied by Bookman's Alley for decades (behind the 1700 block of Sherman).

Although I haven't read any of Eig's previous works, including 2005's Luckiest Man: The Life and Death of Lou Gehrig, I was aware of him as an acclaimed biographer.

Given my fascination with Ali, who I had once memorably encountered--as relayed here upon his death in June 2016--I knew I wanted to get the new biography, even if staying focused enough to read it in full will be a 15-round challenge (given my admittedly fickle reading proclivities).

I noted several Chicago-area engagements for Eig, including at the Oak Park Public Library and the Chicago Humanities Festival, but even in necessitating rescheduling a theater ticket, the event at Bookends & Beginnings worked out best.

After a warm introduction by store owner Nina Barrett--including praise for a prior appearance by Eig tied to his 2014 book, The Birth of the Pill: How Four Crusaders Reinvented Sex and Launched a Revolution--Eig spoke for about an hour on why he wanted to write about Ali, how he went about his research and what he learned.

Affable throughout, the slight, bald, bespectacled author began by saying he and the three-time heavyweight champion of the world had much in common, including--as Eig clenched his fists in a boxers stance--"We both have lightning fast jabs."

And drolly, without having flinched, "Wanna see it again?"

More seriously, while noting that Ali, once considered the most famous person in the world, had garnered voluminous press coverage and has been profiled in fine books by Norman Mailer (The Fight), David Remnick (King of the World), Mark Kram Jr. (Ghosts of Manila) and others--I'll add Thomas Hauser (Muhammad Ali: His Life and Times)--Eig found that no one yet had done the kind of full-blown, comprehensive biography he was envisioning.

So he set about writing one, first interviewing a reluctant Ferdie "The Fight Doctor" Pacheco, who Eig said tried to throw him out of his house, and then Ali's second wife, Khalilah (a.k.a. Belinda), who told the author, "Says who?" when Eig introduced himself as an Ali biographer.

After initially insisting on $6,000 for her cooperation--which Eig found an odd amount and didn't feel compelled to pay--Khalilah became a valued and friendly source as the writer delved deep into learning what made the man born Cassius Clay tick.

And how Ali's life--through which wove race, politics, war and boxing, plus worldwide popularity, immense public hatred, quite a bit of womanizing and crippling illness--can enlighten ours.

"The key is to make him human," shared Eig, "to get beyond the mythology."

I'm not going to transcribe Eig's entire speech, key aspects of which can presumably be found in Ali: A Life, but he discussed interviewing Ali's brother Rahman, showed a slide of their childhood home in Louisville, told the famed story of young Cassius Clay getting into boxing after having his bicycle stolen and shared how even from a young age, Ali desperately wanted to become famous.

A nice gathering at Bookends & Beginnings, including my friend Ken and seemingly some of Eig's fellow journalists, also heard about Ali beating Sonny Liston for the heavyweight title in 1964, soon joining the Nation of Islam, adopting a Muslim name, becoming "the most hated man in America" and, in 1966, refusing induction into the U.S. Army at the time of the Vietnam War.

Referencing the vitriol faced from certain corners by Colin Kaepernick today, Jonathan Eig noted that in the mid-'60s, white American reaction to Ali was ten times worse.

Even at the height of his fame in the 1970s,
Ali hawked a variety of products purely
for profit, as Eig depicted with this one.

Yet he also "became a hero to those in the anti-war movement" and, after having his title stripped in his prime, Ali's resiliency in rising off the canvas following a brutal knockdown at the hands of Joe Frazier in their hallowed 1971 title fight--in which Ali lost for the first time in 32 pro fights--marked the beginning of his becoming more widely beloved.

"White people accepted him more when they saw him as vulnerable," Eig offered as hypothesis rather than fact.

Eig shared some sad truths about Ali, including that--based on research he had conducted for the book--the boxer likely absorbed more than 200,000 punches in his amateur and professional career, which was unnecessarily extended for financial gain.

The Parkinson's syndrome that robbed Ali's motor skills and famed loquaciousness was undoubtedly caused by all the abuse he took in the ring, per Eig, but though its effects were apparent to the public from the late-'80s until his death, the author's research uncovered much earlier signs of brain damage, including a substantial drop in "speaking rate" between 1970-1980.

Although I happily purchased Ali: A Life at Bookends & Beginnings, had Eig sign and inscribe it to me and even began reading it at bedtime last night, it'll be a good while--if ever--before I can share much about the book itself. (It seems to be getting stellar reviews, and strong accolades from people such as Ken Burns.)

But based on what Eig shared on Tuesday night, it would appear the tome is far from a hagiography.

Although I, perhaps only before reading the bio, would readily use the word "hero" to describe my affinity for Ali--I've twice visited the museum in his honor in Louisville and have watched numerous documentaries--Eig notably never did in his presentation.

In fact, while saying that he was surprised by discovering how humble Ali could be among strangers, despite his famed "I am the greatest!" exhortations, the author expressed being quite troubled by certain elements of the full picture he painted in his book.

Not only could Ali be terribly cruel to Frazier, Foreman, and other black opponents--far more than white ones--according to Eig he treated his wives and children poorly, and among several adulterous affairs cited in the biography were ones with underage girls.

Over time, the author shared, the champ--beset by financial troubles and depression, imprisoned by the ravages of Parkinson's, emboldened by renewed adoration after lighting the torch at the 1996 Olympics--became more thoughtful and religious.

Eig didn't reveal if he ever met Ali or attempted to interview him for the biography--I should have asked in the Q&A segment--but did attend his funeral, noting that the boxer got "more than a Presidential sendoff."

"He was turned into a saint," said Eig, amiably, admiringly, but seemingly not entirely in agreement with such veneration.

Which should make Ali: A Life far more fascinating than just a highly-detailed deification.

And along with all I will learn about Muhammad Ali, I valued gaining insight into the process taken by a skilled biographer, the truths he tries to reveal, the scenarios he depicts to give readers a sense of being there and the questions he tries to answer.

Including, ultimately, the key quest Dick Gregory set him upon:

Why did a black man growing up in the 1940s and '50s think he could be special?

Because, Jonathan Eig intimated on an enlightening evening in Evanston:

"[Muhammad Ali] believed he didn't have to accept the world the way he found it."

The Time Muhammad Ali Mocked My Cluelessness (Quite Properly) Without Saying a Word ... and Other Reflections on The Greatest

Photo by Seth Arkin, March 1992; please do not republish without attribution

(Note: Much of this article was part of a post celebrating Muhammad Ali's 70th birthday on January 17, 2012, with some revisions and additions upon his passing on June 3, 2016.)

On March 14, 1992, I was insulted by The Greatest.

Quite justifiably.

I'll never forget it, and after the passing of Muhammad Ali on Friday night, I couldn't help but remember it yet again.

The date might not be exact, but it seems right. I think it was the Saturday of a weekend trip to Las Vegas with my friend Todd. I was living in Los Angeles at the time; Todd had come out from Chicago and we drove to Vegas. It was my first time there, and possibly Todd's.

We stayed in a low-rent, now long-defunct hotel/casino called the Continental, but on Saturday morning we were wandering through the MGM Grand (or perhaps it wasn't the "Grand" yet). I think we were in a gift shop when we noticed a bit of a hubbub, something of a throng in motion.

Upon which Todd, who's almost a foot taller than me and thus quicker to notice the nucleus of the commotion, said, "There's Muhammad Ali." (Ostensibly he was in Vegas due to a title fight taking place that night; I can't recall nor find online who was fighting.)

Although I had grown up a bit too late to see Ali fight in his prime, I was well aware of--and awed by--his legend.

In 1992, the Champ was already quite significantly stricken by the effects of Parkinson's Syndrome, but I think that only added to the reverence I had for him. I don't think there are very many celebrities, then or now, that I would be more excited to encounter. Or to photograph.

Unfortunately, as I made my way to the middle of the throng and stood in front of him, I fumbled with my point-and-shoot (well before the age of digital) and missed my chance for a shot of Ali. But, as he was handing out pamphlets about Islam--including one to me--he paused to allow me to snap the photo above.

And though I knew his motor skills weren't what they used to be--when they arguably, at least in a boxing ring, were greater than anyone's, ever--I asked him for an autograph.

Upon which, Muhammad Ali, whose legendary--and often biting--verbosity, but not his acuity, had been stolen by disease, looked right at me and pointed at the pamphlet, as if to say, albeit gently, "Hey you moron, I already signed these."

And being a bit dull, I think I still needed Todd to interpret what Ali was telling me.

While I have never actually read the pamphlet, I treasure it to this day.

Later that afternoon, in a shop in downtown Las Vegas, I had a caricature drawn depicting my encounter with Ali. But neither of us was particularly well represented, and I no longer know where this drawing is. 

Somewhat amazingly, it has been more than 24 years since I met, and was deservedly mocked, by the Great Ali, who was born Cassius Clay on January 17, 1942 in Louisville.

And as he was diagnosed with Parkinson's in 1984--which would long corrupt his motor skills though not his intellect--it seems rather astonishing to me that the most lovably loquacious loudmouth of all-time spent many more years of his adulthood unable, or barely able, to speak ...yet seemed all the greater for it. 

Just this past December, as Donald Trump was voicing anti-Islamic rhetoric, with the stupid and vile suggestion that the U.S. shouldn't allow Muslims into the country, Ali was quoted as saying:

“We as Muslims have to stand up to those who use Islam to advance their own personal agenda,” Ali said in a statement first released to NBC News. 

 “They have alienated many from learning about Islam. True Muslims know or should know that it goes against our religion to try and force Islam on anybody.” 

“Speaking as someone who has never been accused of political correctness, I believe that our political leaders should use their position to bring understanding about the religion of Islam and clarify that these misguided murderers have perverted people’s views on what Islam really is,” he said. 

So if anyone thinks that as The Champ became more frail his voice wasn't still a vital one, well, you would be wrong.

Just as it would be wrong to perceive him merely, or even primarily, as a boxer, though he was among the greatest--and almost certainly the fastest, most beautiful and entertaining--of all-time.

Read any of the myriad tributes to him over the past couple days--from biographers David Remnick and Thomas Hauser, pretty much every media outlet in the world, friends & admirers like Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Paul McCartney, Bob Dylan and President Obama--or even just his Wikipedia entry, and you'll learn just how momentous (and at the time quite controversial, even reviled) his decision not to go to Vietnam was, especially as it meant forgoing his championship belt and earning power at the height of his career.

This was a man who stood on principle, perhaps as strongly as anyone ever (and for those who want
to decry a lack of courage to go and fight, keep in mind that Ali was 25 at the time, so he wasn't just randomly drafted, and per his words he didn't see reason in being asked to go kill others around the world when there was so much injustice here in the United States).

Anyway, far beyond my own brief encounter with Muhammad Ali, I truly believe his self-proclaimed title of "The Greatest" is largely accurate, likely less so for what he did in the ring than what he did out of it.

I have numerous Ali books, movies and autographs throughout my apartment, love watching clips of his fights & interviews on YouTube and valued my 2006 visit to the Muhammad Ali Center in Louisville so much, I went back in 2012. (The building's cool facade--look at the image from a few feet away--and some of the Champ's wonderful quotes made for a nifty holiday card one year.)

Though far from perfect--his braggadocio could go beyond brilliant self-promotion to be brashly reprehensible, as in calling Joe Frazier a gorilla--but I truly believe that, in a plethora of ways, Muhammad Ali was one of the most beautiful human beings the world has ever known.

And truly The Greatest.

I will be forever grateful that he mocked my cluelessness, not just aptly but actually rather wonderfully and sweetly.

So long, Champ. Thanks for the autograph, the memories, the legacy, the social impact, your being a champion for humanity and--in this case, to a white Jewish kid who never saw you fight live in your prime but has long loved you for numerous reasons--a hero.

Because of your loss, our world is a good bit lesser, but because of your life, it is a whole lot greater. 

---
The first clip below is of Muhammad knocking out Cleveland Williams in 1966 in what many consider his best performance, with his hand and foot speed being astonishing, almost balletic. I find it strange, and a bit galling, that although he had officially changed his name to Muhammad Ali in 1964, the announcer here, two years later, is still calling him Cassius Clay.

And this is Ali's stunning 1974 victory over George Foreman, who was the undefeated champion at the time. You might want to skip the introductions and get right to the fight, but it's here in full. I was surprised by how well Ali did throughout the fight, in which I believed he was being more thoroughly beaten, even as he employed his famed "Rope-a-Dope" strategy. He didn't have the flash he did in '66, but what he does may be even more impressive.

Today is the Greatest: Celebrating the 70th Birthday of Muhammad Ali (and remembering when he mocked me)

On March 14, 1992, I was insulted by the Greatest.

Quite justifiably.

I'll never forget it, and today, the 70th birthday of Muhammad Ali, I couldn't help but remember it.

That date might not be exact, but it seems right. I think it was the Saturday of a weekend trip to Las Vegas with my friend Todd. I was living in Los Angeles at the time; Todd had come out from Chicago and we drove to Vegas. It was my first time there, and possibly Todd's.

We stayed in a low-rent, now long-defunct hotel/casino called the Continental, but on Saturday morning we were wandering through the MGM Grand (or perhaps it wasn't the "Grand" yet). I think we were in a gift shop when we noticed a bit of a hubbub, something of a throng in motion.

Upon which Todd, who's almost a foot taller than me and thus quicker to notice the nucleus of the commotion, said, "There's Muhammad Ali." (Ostensibly he was in Vegas due to a title fight taking place that night; I can't recall nor find online who was fighting.)

Although I had grown up a bit too late to see Ali fight in his prime, I was well aware of--and awed by--his legend. In 1992, the Champ was already quite significantly stricken by the effects of Parkinson's Syndrome, but I think that only added to the reverence I had for him. I don't think there are very many celebrities, then or now, that I would be more excited to encounter. Or to photograph.

Unfortunately, as I made my way to the middle of the throng and stood in front of him, I fumbled with my point-and-shoot (well before the age of digital) and missed my chance for a shot of Ali. But, as he was handing out pamphlets about Islam--including one to me--he paused to allow me to snap the photo above.

And though I knew his motor skills weren't what they used to be--when they arguably, at least in a boxing ring, were greater than anyone's, ever--I asked him for an autograph.

Upon which, Muhammad Ali, whose legendary--and often biting--verbosity, but not his acuity, had been stolen by disease, looked right at me and pointed at the pamphlet, as if to say, albeit gently, "Hey you moron, I already signed these." And being a bit dull, I think I still needed Todd to interpret what Ali was telling me.

While I have never actually read the pamphlet, I treasure it to this day.

Later that afternoon, in a shop in downtown Las Vegas, I had a caricature drawn depicting my encounter with Ali. But neither of us was particularly well represented, and I no longer know where this drawing is. 

Somewhat amazingly, it has now been nearly 20 years since I met, and was deservedly mocked, by the Great Ali, who was born Cassius Clay on January 17, 1942 in Louisville. I read that when he attended the funeral of his legendary foe Joe Frazier, who passed away in November, Ali was rather frail, but I'm hoping he's still relatively well and able to celebrate his 70th birthday in style.

For far beyond my own encounter with him, I truly believe his self-proclaimed title of "The Greatest" is largely accurate. Not just in terms of what he did in the ring, but out of it as well. I greatly valued my visit to the excellent Ali Center in Louisville in 2006, and high among the many things to admire about Ali--who also had his faults--was that he gave up three years of his boxing career, in the prime of it, when he was an undefeated world champion, because he refused to register for the U.S. military during the Vietnam War. (When Wikipedia comes back up, you may wish to check out his entry as a starting point to learning more.)

You can also find a number of fine tributes and clips of his often hilarious loquaciousness on YouTube. In addition to commemorating his birthday by watching a fine DVD documentary called Muhammad Ali - Through the Eyes of the World (When We Were Kings is also essential), I enjoyed seeing the videos below of two of his greatest fights in their entirety.

Happy Birthday, Muhammad. I hope it's the greatest. And thanks for the autograph. 

---
The first clip is of him knocking out Cleveland Williams in 1966 in what many consider his best performance, with his hand and foot speed being astonishing, almost balletic. I find it strange, and a bit galling, that although he had officially changed his name to Muhammad Ali in 1964, the announcer here, two years later, is still calling him Cassius Clay.


And this is Ali's stunning 1974 victory over George Foreman, who was the undefeated champion at the time. You might want to skip the introductions and get right to the fight, but it's here in full. I was surprised by how well Ali did throughout the fight, in which I believed he was being more thoroughly beaten, even as he employed his famed "Rope-a-Dope" strategy. He didn't have the flash he did in '66, but what he does may be even more impressive.