Arthur Ashe: A Life

Hi friends! Took a bit of a break from book blogging because, well, we’re truly living in unprecedented times, but going to try my best to catch you up on everything I’ve read this past month. Starting with this massive biography I read this past weekend: Arthur Ashe: A Life.

Ever since I was little, going to the U.S. Open has been a highlight of the summer — the entire year, really. My dad would get tickets for my sister and I, and we’d see the big match on Ashe but also wander around the practice courts, watch some lower-ranked doubles… it was always so much fun. I never thought twice about the man whom the court was named for. I knew he was a famous tennis player, but that’s sorta where my knowledge ended.

Until now!!!!

I read Raymound Arsenault’s definitive biography of Arthur Ashe and wow. Clocking it at 629 pages, this is not a light and breezy read. The biography was so insanely detailed, at some points I was like, okay, I do not need to know how every set in this match went down. But I know there’s people out there who crave that kind of detail, and I respect that Arsenault was so thorough he included it.

Arthur Ashe was born in Jim Crow South, and rose to the heights of tennis, breaking through a super segregated sport to become the first winner of the U.S. Open. (Althea Gibson was the first-ever Black tennis player to win a Grand Slam; Ashe was second.) Growing up in a segregated Richmond, Ashe started playing tennis under the mentorship of Dr. Robert Johnson, who founded the American Tennis Association (ATA) that is meant to support Black tennis players. We go through his childhood, training, and his time playing tennis at UCLA. There’s an in-depth focus on the Davis Cup, what used to be a more prominent tennis tournament, and a thorough (too thorough, tbh) look at Ashe’s career.

But what I loved reading about — and I suspect why people want to read a biography of Ashe — is not just for his tennis accomplishments (which were many), but for his politics and advocacy. He was late to the civil rights movement, but then became a prominent voice critiquing South African apartheid. He later traveled to South Africa to play tennis, leading many to accuse him of being a “Uncle Tom,” but he stayed firm in his decision. After a heart attack, a blood transfusion resulted in Ashe contacting HIV — he would later die of AIDS-related pnemonia at only 49. In the last year of his life, he became an outspoken AIDS activist.

Here’s writer Michael Grunwald’s summary in The Washington Post:

Arsenault has essentially written two books: an unenlightening rehash of a very good tennis career, and an insightful narrative of the evolution of a remarkable human being. It’s a shame, because the guy on the court was the same guy who tried to bring change to South Africa through engagement and later boycotts, who voted for Jesse Jackson in 1984 and George H.W. Bush in 1988, who was slow to accept women’s equality on tour but later became close friends with Billie Jean King, who disapproved of McEnroe’s bratty behavior but refused to kick him off the Davis Cup team. Arsenault often treats the two sides of Ashe’s life as if he were writing about two separate people, but presumably the intensity, intelligence, flexibility and courage that made Ashe such an interesting man made him an interesting tennis player, too.

Essentially; I learned so much, but I wish it was less granular in the tennis details and more thorough look at how Ashe balanced tennis, health, and politics.

But now, when I one day return to Arthur Ashe Stadium — I will finally know the story of the awe-inspiring man behind the name.

Rating: ★★★★