A psychotherapist by trade, Klein has also been a songwriter, DJ, Yale lecturer, author, and almost anything else you can think of. She took up boxing in her 50s, first as part of her physical therapy in recovering from an injury, and then because it was a way to discover more about herself.
Boxing allowed Klein to face her self-perceived physical inadequacies, which were partly tied to her Jewish heritage. Her training with coach John Spehar allowed her to discover her physical, mental, and emotional strength and develop a toughness she never realized she had. Spehar's selflessness is remarkable in its ubiquity in boxing; the trope of the coach who sacrifices tremendously for the betterment of his/her boxers. Most fighters have encountered the like.
Though Blows to the Head has a smattering of annoying historical inaccuracies, Klein gets boxing. She understands the discipline required, the notion of competitive violence, and the intimacy of working with a coach or sparring with a partner. She learns of the longline of Jewish toughs who overcame antisemitism, poverty, and family tragedy to reach heights their people never dreamed imaginable. Her conversations with the greats of yesteryear may feel a bit contrived at first, but the dialogue is tremendously insightful. Each fighter teaches Klein something about boxing and about life, all of which reinforces Spehar's philosophies. She captures the fighters' distinct voices so beautifully that their unnatural entrances become faded memories.
Boxing gave Klein a greater appreciation of her Jewish heritage. The sport was a portal into ethnic pride in a Bikelesque sense: not at the expense of other groups, but as an understanding in the stereotype-busting power of pugilism.
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