And Now for the 1-2 Punch…!

So, for those of you of my generation—that would be the Boomers—can you remember Horizon Magazine’s illustrative puzzles, where you had to find the iron hidden amongst the birch leaves of a giant tree? The dove nestled amongst the bookshelves? Find it! Better yet, find it before your older sister does! So, here we are in 2012, sifting through Vanity Fair or Vogue or any number of high-end glossies—WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS PHOTO?  Well, the Gentle Diva protests, practically everything.  Let’s start with our sponsor, Louis Vuitton, dead these many decades.  Why on earth is the Louis Vuitton company promoting Muhammad Ali as the mentor to “a rising star”? Is this the company which has been plagued by anti-Semitic allegations for the past sixty years?  According to a review of a biography on Louis Vuitton, by Stephanie Bonvicini, she was given full access by the firm (Louis Vuitton Moet-Hennessy) when she proposed writing the book but when she asked about the wartime files, she was told that company documents for the years 1930-1945 had been destroyed by a fire.

What possible connection might there be, between Louis Vuitton and Muhammad Ali? Are their advertising folks on drugs?

My only experience of Louis Vuitton is a present I once received, a round, lip-stick red leather make-up case, perfect for Grace Kelly on a bad day.  I was kind of shocked by it because it meant that this friend really had no clue about what mattered to me.  Not to be churlish, I wrote a fawning thank-you note and returned it within days.  I bought several wallets for needy relatives, whew, and still had two hundred bucks leftover.  What to do with two hundred dollars in a mid-town Manhattan Louis Vuitton store, where there was more security than customer service? The Gentle Diva bought the ONLY thing available for two hundred bucks: an outsized t-shirt, still unworn to this day.  There is something deeply, morbidly repellent about this store—I mean, why would anyone ever think that a $200 T-shirt was a fine, okay idea, especially if there’s this murky Vichy history nagging its legacy?

But, wow, quite the digression, I know.  Back to the photo.  This photo HAUNTS me.  We’ve got this bucolic setting, with Muhammad Ali sitting on a poolside ottoman, biceps straining his short-sleeved shirt. There’s a kid standing to Ali’s right, not a day over five, impossibly cute, just darling, readied for a fight, wearing his boxing gloves.  Of course, the horrid Vuitton case rests near Ali, that’s the whole point, to push those miserable initials, right? But what haunts me about this ad is Muhammad Ali’s expression (or lack thereof): there is absolutely NO connection between Ali’s gaze and this hopeful little pre-K boxer.  If you follow Ali’s gaze, you’ll notice that he can’t even focus on the boy.  The general vacancy of Muhammad Ali’s expression is complete. Indeed, even the way Ali’s legs and feet are arranged, looks posed, like a bit of propped furniture.  Ali shows no signs of being present anywhere in this photo. Am I the only person alive who doesn’t realize the profound connection between having your head bashed in, multiple times, and Parkinson’s? Ali’s “Parkinson’s” is probably more credibly Dementia pugilistica (DP), or perhaps Chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), or punch-drunk syndrome.  The condition is thought to affect as many as one in five professional boxers.  Where, the Gentle Diva wonders, is the role model of career choice here? Isn’t experience worth anything these days? If you spend a lifetime sustaining severe head trauma, you have a vastly increased chance of entering a near-vegetative state—is this the Louis Vuitton message, for this adorable little kid standing in this ad?

Recently, there was a wonderful letter quoted from Kurt Vonnegut, dated 1967, wherein he wrote in support of his son, Mark’s decision to request conscientious-objector status.  I found this letter so moving, partly because I greatly admire Vonnegut-the-author of SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE and CAT’S CRADLE.  But mostly because, Vonnegut-the-father, having experienced war, was basing his desperate appeal upon his own intimate knowledge of war, of violence.  He writes, “I was a volunteer in the Second World War. I was an infantry scout, saw plenty of action, was finally captured and served about six months as a prisoner of war in Germany. I have a Purple Heart. I was honorably discharged.  I am entitled, it seems to me, to pass on to my son my opinion of killing.  I don’t even hunt or fish any more. I have some guns which I inherited, but they are covered in dust.”

Vonnegut’s letter appeals to a noble effort to resist the rabid militarism of this country.  Here’s a father who has taught his son about the folly of killing.  I look now at this photo of our little kid and wonder what sort of role model Muhammad Ali is meant to be: the only text offered in this ad is, “Some stars show you the way.”  What way? When will it all end?

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5 Responses to And Now for the 1-2 Punch…!

  1. We are raising our 15-year-old son as a pacifist. Do you know how hard it is to raise a boy as a pacifist, even in post-Vietnam America, when you’d think everybody would be falling over themselves support you?

    It’s damn hard.

  2. Bar Wells says:

    The Ali/Vuitton ad in Vanity Fair has also drawn my attention many times. It’s spooky, but I never stopped to think about his stare or the position of his feet etc. Thank you.
    I think your sentence, “Am I the only person alive who doesn’t realize the profound connection between…” perhaps needs to be edited to read “Am I the only person alive who realizes…”

  3. Edward Young says:

    Sources close to “the champ” say his days are numbered. thoughtful post.

  4. It will end when the old men who don’t mind sending young men and women off to die become the ones being sent off to die. I’m with Kurt; let the warmongers wage war. Leave my children alone.

  5. Martin Hill Ortiz says:

    I happened upon your diva blog and was moved by your well-thought out and well-researched comments on this photo. (Well-researched unless you happen to have the varieties of boxing injuries on the top of your head…)

    I would add a couple of thoughts. First, Ali is probably not responsible for his particular posing, “like a piece of furniture.” I imagine he was caught at a moment in time and the photo taken from many because it capture something odd – a legend becoming a wax figure of himself. In that sense it is all the more haunting, a vision of his future. Indeed, my first guess would have been that this was taken when Ali was 50 and this is a grandchild.

    The other thought is that along with Vonnegut’s son, Ali was a conscientious objector in the Vietnam War, a decision for which he paid a lot, risking everything. He knew the difference between boxing for show, a sport that was one of the few ways for a black to succeed in his day, and war.

    Thanks for the stimulating essay.

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