Pristine lawns, tennis whites, strawberries and cream, tennis is synonymous with the upper echelons of society, but scratch beneath the surface and you'll quickly discover a different history, one of untold struggles on and off the courts.
From the birth of modern tennis in Victorian Britain to the present day, we bear witness to struggles around sexuality, gender, race and class that have transformed the nature of tennis and sport itself. A People's History of Tennis is populated by diverse voices, recounting the sport's gay origins, 'Workers' Wimbledon', battles for gender equality and more.
Going beyond center court, this book reveals the hidden history of the game, providing a rich account of the challenges faced and victories won.
Berry’s book is a fun, eye-opening and frank account of the history of tennis that puts real people front and centre.
“Lawn tennis was different. It was played “as much with the head as the hand” and it encouraged playfulness and enjoyment of performance” [David Berry, Pluto Press, 2020: 23].
This new non-fiction book is about the history of “lawn tennis”, as viewed through the prism of class and gender politics. Rather than being just a sport for the privileged and well-off, David Berry argues that tennis has also historically provided important battlegrounds for “freedom” movements, for the rights of women, immigrants, black people and people from the working class segment of the population. Referring to the sport’s “amateur” beginnings and explaining the business side of the game, Berry talks about tennis between the wars, about the history of tennis clubs, as well as details the rise of first tennis stars that helped to transform tennis from an amusing hobby played on the British Isles to a global phenomenon and industry worth millions of pounds. Often referring to Wimbledon, the oldest and most prestigious tennis tournament in the world, Berry demonstrates with a great narrative flair the constant battle to shed away the “exclusivity” of tennis, a sport which remains one of the few in the world that, from its very origin in the nineteenth century, was designed to be played by both men and women.
Apparently, “the first game of lawn tennis, at least in public, was played on Wednesday 6 May 1874…in Knightsbridge” [Berry, Pluto Press, 2020: 9] and the inventor of “lawn tennis” was Walter Wingfield, a man who wanted to come up with some game that would overtake in popularity both croquet and rinking. His new game of “lawn tennis” had some similarities with a game called real, royal or court tennis that originated in France in the thirteenth century. With some changes, Wingfield’s game had an unprecedented success both at home and internationally, first appealing in particular to gentlemen of certain “intellectual” professions that saw tennis as one undemanding sport through which they can reaffirm their individuality and indulge in some social networking. It was in 1877 that the All England Club at Wimbledon decided to host its first lawn tennis tournament.
I appreciated reading about the first women tennis players, especially about Maud Watson (1864 – 1946), who became Wimbledon’s first Women’s Singles Champion and about Charlotte Dod (1871 – 1960), one of the greatest British sportswomen. Berry’s book demonstrates the injustice faced by women in tennis, and the discrimination/prejudice they had to endure echoes to the twenty-first century: it was only in 2007 that Wimbledon became “the last Grand Slam tournament to concede to equal pay for women and men” [2020: 171].
Always seen as a sport for the privileged, the book talks about various historical initiatives to bring tennis to the public. The introduction of well-maintained public tennis courts in the 1920s was one such initiative, but the UK abandoned that idea later with one very unfortunate consequence: “The potential of park tennis to produce a stream of hungry talent in Britain was ignored by the Lawn Tennis Association and was the principal reason why there was no British women’s champion at Wimbledon between…1937 and…1961 and no men’s champion after Fred Perry in 1936 until Andy Murray in 2013” [David Berry, Pluto Press, 2020: 110]. The appalling “exclusivity” of the British tennis had continued for decades and decades. The class distinction was at the heart of it. In the past, all tennis clubs barred working-class people from becoming members, and there was such a thing as the Workers’ Wimbledon, last hosted in 1951. With absolute frankness, David Berry shows how tennis and the middle-class were at one point virtually indistinguishable: “If you were middle class in Britain in the 1930s you joined a tennis club. It wasn’t simply that tennis at this time expressed middle-class identity. It forged it” [Berry, Pluto Press, 2020: 72]. In Woody Allen’s film Match Point (2005), a man from humble origins tries to climb the social ladder by giving tennis lessons to his posh clientele in central London.
Discrimination in tennis extended not only to women and people from the working class, but also to immigrants and black people. The book details how Cas Fish and his Dolphin Squad tried to produce the first black tennis champion, but with no success: “black population was keen on football but had no interest in tennis”, was the view historically, and the author adds “perhaps not surprisingly as they had no way of learning it” [Berry, Pluto Press, 2020: 137]. Black players faced much prejudice and racism in this sport: “in British tennis, black players are noticeable by their absence. The astounding success of the Williams sisters at Wimbledon does not seem to have inspired a new generation of young black women in Britain to take up the game in the way it has in America” [Berry, Pluto Press, 2020: 146]. David Berry goes on to say that this is because of a number of factors, including the expense, the burden of social obligations, but also because of racism: “racism in tennis [in the UK] has never gone away despite the acclaim given at Wimbledon to black champions…what goes unreported are the everyday experiences of racism from top black players not getting product endorsements, to those on the lower rungs of the professional ladder not able to find a family to look after them during a tournament” [Berry, Pluto Press, 2020: 146].
Historically, there was also prejudice towards those who played tennis for pay (“professionals”), rather than for fun (“amateurs”). “Amateur” players then fought against draconian rules not to earn money from the sport. The last part of the book talks about modern tennis, mentioning such names as McEnroe, Borg and the Williams sisters and how they transformed tennis. The game itself has changed: “elite tennis is now dominated by supremely fit athletes backed up by half a dozen therapists who ensure all injuries are dealt with quickly and efficiently” [2020: 188].
Lastly, I appreciated all the literary references given by the author in his book. The rising popularity of tennis was reflected in literature of that or this period, and some of the books mentioned include Edith Wharton’s The Age of Innocence, Forster’s A Room with a View and Julian Barnes’s The Only Story. The only weakness is that A People’s History of Tennis is badly in need of illustrations, and it has some repetitions, which might have been inevitable since the book structure followed such headings as “players”, “socialists”, “outsiders” and “feminists”, rather than a strictly chronological order.
🎾 The merit of A People’s History of Tennis is that it is a non-fiction that often reads like one of the most exciting narrative stories, providing a fascinating insight into “a sport…that [although historically] dominated and controlled by the privileged” [2020: 209] still had its share of fascinating “quiet revolutions” that eventually led to social change.
Pretty fun read. As a "people's history," it succeeds in one sense while falling short in another. In the sense that a people's history is one in which the perspective is on the lived experiences of the broader population, this book does a good job of depicting how tennis was experienced by the average player and spectator in its early days, and does a decent job of looking at the prominent players not only as individual athletes but as people acting within their particular nexuses of social and economic factors. However, insofar as a people's history implies uncovering the radical mass subcurrents typically overlooked in hegemonic histories, this book does little to convince the reader that tennis has been a really radical space on its own merit. It's occasional role, particularly early on, as a novel space of interaction between men and women is well taken, as is its role as a space of cross-racial interaction; that said, one doesn't walk away from this book with a radically changed view of the sport as one that is open today to most people who want to join in (taking into account the normal socio-economic barriers to entry), but is more broadly characterized by club culture and tennis whites.
Positiiviselle puolelle teoksessa mene ehdottomasti kirjoittajan rakkaus yhteiseen suosikki-urheilulajiimme. Opin myös "lawn tenniksen" synnystä sekä monista lajin menestyjistä, joista olen kuullut - tai ainakin lukenut nimensä Grand Slam-voittajien listoista. Naispuoliset sankarit olivat kiinnostavampia kuin miespuoliset , eli esim. "Lottie" Dod sekä monin tavoin merkityksellinen, häikäisevä ja lahjakas Suzanne Lenglen. Billie-Jean Kingin merkitys (naisten) tennikselle valkeni myös laajemmin ja sikäli voin ymmärtää, että naisten maajoukkueiden välinen turnaus muutettiin 'Federation cupista' 'Billie-Jean King cupiksi'. Heikompaa puolta teoksessa edusti useammatkin heikosti perustellut tulkinnat asioista, kyseenalaiset viime vuosikymmenten "tenniskenttien suuret persoonat", "poliittisesti korrektit" vääristelyt ihmisten motiiveista ja tunteista sekä etenkin se, että "radikaali historia" on liioittelua jopa britti-skaalalla.
Really enjoyed this! Definitely appeals to a niche of leftist/progressive tennis fans but it really acknowledges that though tennis is often considered a conservative sport (and it is definitely difficult to break into nowadays without huge financial backing), it has incredibly progressive roots and its history is far more radical than it’s often given credit for.
A People’s History of tennis takes it’s starting point as Wednesday 6th May 1874 when David Berry claims that the first game of lawn tennis was played at Knightsbridge. Although for many years before there was ( and still is) a game of tennis that been played by the aristocracy indoors on a hard floor and with a wooden ball, 1874 was the first time that lawn tennis was played utilising Walter Wingfield’s patented tennis set. I have been playing tennis since I was given a Dunlop Blue Flash racket for Christmas as a boy in 1966 and I have been watching Wimbledon on the TV since as long as I can remember. However, until reading David Berry’s book I knew very little of the history of the sport pre- 1960s. This fascinating book has filled that gap in my knowledge. Reading the book, I learned that from it’s earliest beginnings tennis has been part of the feminist struggle including an unsuccessful attempt by suffragettes to burn down Wimbledon. The book relates the efforts by women to be allowed to play the lawn tennis including the Herculean efforts of stars like Lottie Dodd to prevent the marginalisation of the women’s game. Although Berry provides lot of horror stories about the middle class bigoted elitist nature of the sport in Britain and it’s clubs, which excluded the “wrong sort” of people especially in the early years, I was surprised to learn that there were also at one time socialist and workers tennis clubs together with Jewish and Gay clubs. The chapter on the entrepreneurs make interesting about the sharp practices of Slazenger and Dunlop to get their products to be adopted by the top Championships such as Wimbledon and also the part played by people such as Teddy Tinling in female tennis player’s fashion. The chapters towards the end of the book relate to issues and players I remember well, such as the tussles between the amateur and professional game, the struggles led by Billie Jean King for equal prize money for women and against homophobia. The final chapter entitled “Amateurs” gives an account of the development of the modern British tennis club, which for the most part have become a more welcoming place to people from wide range of social backgrounds all united by their love of the game. However there is still a way to remove the barriers to entry such as the cost of joining a club and learning to play the game. Britain is compares not very favourably to France that has done much more to grow the sport at the grass roots level and has reaped the rewards in bringing on top level players. As someone who has played tennis at a very modest level all my life and enjoyed watching on the BBC the stars of the sport perform each year at Wimbledon I found David Berry’s book a fascinating and informative read which can only add to my enjoyment of the game.
I learnt about Workers Wimbledon - a prewar socialist tennis competition that was quite popular. The basis for it was laid through working class tennis clubs across Britain.
Tennis has always been less male dominated than other sports, and Berry covers the origins of this well.
A fantastic chapter discussed queer tennis players, covering not just more recent players like Navratilova and Billy Jean King, but those from the further past like Bill Tilden. One of the heroes of the book is the Danish legend Leif Rovsing, who openly argued for gay rights decades before it became more popular.
Overall, the book convincingly challenges the line that tennis is merely a middle class or upper class bastion of privilege, reshaping our understanding of the sport.
I have liked the approach of Berry, not providing a chronological but a conceptual categorisation, introducing us the characters, actors of the tennis universe: Mavericks, Feminists, Members, Stars, Players, Socialists, Entrepreneurs, Performers, Enthusiasts, Immigrants, Outsiders, Trailblazers, Professionals and Amateurs. The book could easily and more accurately have been titled: A[n] [English] People's History of [Lawn] Tennis, but still, this is a very clear and informative account of the history of tennis, paying equal amount of attention to the technologies, economies and sociologies of tennis.
Sosiologinen historia tennikseen. Harmikseni unohdin alkujohdannossa kerrotun tiedon, että kirjan takaa löytyy aikajana, joka helpottaa kirjan lukemista, koska kirja ei etene kronologisesti. Sen vuoksi oli välillä vaikea seurata, mikä asia, ihminen tai paikka on vaikuttanut mihinkin. Paljon hyvää knoppitietoa myös vähemmän tunnetuista pelaajista, joista osa on myös vaikuttanut myönteisesti koko naisliikunnan kehittymiseen.
Tennis (sellaisena kuin sen säännöt pääasiassa ovat tänä päivänä), syntyi Englannissa tasan 150 vuotta sitten helmikuussa 1874! Hyvä päivä saattaa kirja luetuksi, varsinkin kun eilinen Davis Cup oli Suomelle menestyksekäs!
This was an interesting book, I learnt a lot I didn't know about the history of the game. I was expecting more on the big players of the game, but the book focuses more on the players who have changed the game (e.g. Billie Jean King) and the social and political aspects of the game, away from the limelight. Overall an interesting read if you are quite into your tennis.
Very informative and well written analysis of the history of tennis. The author brings to life the social context of the sport with impeccable detail. Great book, would recommend for tennis / sports history fans.
a lovely, readable short history of a sport i love with all my heart. berry clearly adores tennis in that affectionate way that tennis fans will know, and that comes through wonderfully in his prose.
A very informative book, full of history and musings of the sport over the years. A bit of a heavy read though, the sort of book I had to dip in and out of!
Berry’s look at the history and modern understanding of tennis combines two things I love most: cultural analysis (particularly in terms of class, race, gender, and sexuality) and an appreciation for the game. At one point Berry explains exactly why I love tennis: its low-profile place in professional sports masks the incredible athletic prowess of the players.
Barry states, “It is [on the side courts] you appreciate just how fast the ball is going. On television, the wide master shot makes tennis appear easier than it is. Even on the show courts, most seats are well above the players and the birds-eye view makes the ball appear impossible to miss. On the eleven back courts you realize this is all an illusion. Serves regularly come down over 120mph and these young [players] have split seconds to react and yet their reaction has to be controlled and precise,” (190).
This is *precisely* why I love seeing live tennis and have remained infatuated with the sport since I was a pre-teen. This book was a treat.