Wednesday, March 31, 2021

RRR presents... MEMOIRS OF A KARATE FIGHTER by Ralph Robb - GUEST POST + EXCERPT!

Hi there!
Welcome back to Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers.


Today, we've got Rachel's Random Resources on site as we help shine the book spotlight on an interesting Memoir from author Ralph Robb.  It takes us through a history of martial arts from the eyes of someone who experienced it...stateside, at least.  It talks about his generation and how what some consider the classics of the kung fu films were viewed.  It brings us along as someone who didn't necessarily have all the advantages in life as some, made a name for himself as one of the high echelon of his sport.  Ready or not fair readers, get ready to take the mat as we welcome today's blog tour guest and title in the spotlight...


Memoirs of a Karate Fighter
by
Ralph Robb

About the book...
Novelist and former karate champion Ralph Robb recounts his experiences at one of Europe’s toughest dojos and provides an insight into the philosophy and training methods of a club which produced national, European and world titleholders. In a hard-hitting story, Ralph tells of the fights on and off the mat; his experiences as one of a very few black residents in an area in which racist members of the National Front were very active; and the tragic descent into mental illness and premature death of the training partner who was also his best friend.


AMAZON  UK  |  US


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~~~   GUEST POST   ~~~
‘And everybody was Kung Fu Fighting.’
by author Ralph Robb


Back in the 1970s, young girls mostly adorned their bedroom walls with posters of male pop stars, sport stars or the occasional cat. I should know, having three sisters. I had a sole picture of the 1970 Brazilian Football team that had won the world cup pinned on the door, two knives I’d convinced myself were antiques and a pair of nunchaku flails that I’d once managed to split my own head open with. The walls of my bedroom were reserved for pictures depicting kung fu movies. Ironically, up to that point of my life I had not even seen such a movie as they had an ‘X’ rating and it would be five years before I could go to see one legally.


Marvel comics by the hundreds and a fixation on kung fu movies must have had my mother worried that I was spiraling down a rabbit hole of unhealthy obsessions. To this day, I’m still convinced that was the main reason she burnt all my comics in one massive bonfire and not that she had warned me several times what would happen if I failed to tidy my bedroom.

So, it was no surprise to my family that as soon as I could pass for eighteen that I would be heading for the local cinema on Friday nights. I can still remember my excitement as I walked through the door of the near-derelict Colosseum ‘flea pit’ to watch my first Chinese kung fu film. (The kung fu TV series in which a white actor played a character of Chinese heritage was seen as a poor imitation of the real thing by most black youths and today the casting would probably be deemed as unacceptable.) The usual stands selling sweets and ice creams were absent and in their place were local entrepreneurs toting their wares (pre-rolled spliffs) from black garbage bags. Groups of youths gathered in the entrance; their loud banter almost as entertaining as any movie. Such was the high spirits, the rats that scuttled around the place became just another minor inconvenience, despite my phobia about rodents.

Later in life I often wondered what was the draw for black audiences around the world and the heroes portrayed in these movies. Was it empathy for the Chinese who were relentlessly persecuted by the Japanese, the fights to regain their dignity, or was it baser than that: just the simple love of testosterone-inducing violence choreographed in a way we’d not seen before? 

Recently I came across a documentary on YouTube by RZA of the American 80s rap band ‘Wu-Tang Clan’ that highlighted the influence old kung fu movies had had on their music - even down to the name they had given themselves. This reinforced an idea I had long held: that the allure of kung fu films was an international one among those who thought of themselves as downtrodden or disadvantaged and it would help kick-start the martial arts craze around the world.




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~~~   EXCERPT   ~~~


Outside of real fights, the gang’s free time was occupied with the fantasy fighting of kung fu movies. Errol, Clinton and I spent our Friday and Saturday nights at the Colosseum cinema where the audience would be 99% male and 100% black and boisterous. Kung fu movies were all the craze when we were teenagers and the rat-infested cinema was always packed for its late-night weekend shows. The atmosphere in the Colosseum was always very different to what I would find at the cinemas in the town centre, as there were always plenty of people in the audiences who were willing to supply a running commentary on the action.

Of all the kung fu stars, Wang Yu was the favourite at the Colosseum. But why kung fu movies and why Wang? For black guys of my age the badly scripted, poorly dubbed Cantonese films were a cheap escape from the grind of daily life; their carefully choreographed fight scenes acted as a release for people who were otherwise preoccupied with thoughts of real violence. It was easy to fantasize about thrashing either the cops who hassled us, or the thugs who attacked us, as simply as Wang dispatched his foes. As for Wang Yu himself, his popularity was, in part, due to his name: it had not been corrupted with a ‘Bruce’ or a ‘Jackie’ – from which we surmised that he had not ‘sold out’, which back then was a significant phrase for young black people. But this turned out not to be strictly true and as Wang’s popularity grew his name became ‘Jimmy’ Wang Yu. But this uncomfortable truth was not allowed to get in the way of unalloyed hero-worship. Also, his fighting style was admired as it was more traditional than Lee’s and less clowning than Chan’s. And lastly, in his films there were mostly Chinese people and so we were transported to another world in which the hero wasn’t always a white man and it was the Japanese, rather than black men, who were the stereotypical bad guys. 





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About the author...


Ralph Robb was born and raised in the industrial town of Wolverhampton, England and now lives in Ontario Canada with his wife, cat and dog. A proud father of four, Robb works as an engineering technician and loves rugby, martial arts and a good book. His world is balanced by quality TV, global events, great outdoors and of course his grand-daughter. 


SITE  |  FACEBOOK  |  TWITTER




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Special thanks to Rachel at Rachel's Random Resources for the chance to bring this tour to you. (THANKS!) For more information on this title, the author, this promotion, or those on the horizon, feel free to click through the links provided above. Be sure to check out the rest of the tour for more bookish fun!




Until next time, remember...if it looks good, READ IT!






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