These Fists Break Bricks, the new nonfiction title from Grady Hendrix and Chris Poggiali, does more than talk about the rise of kung fu in pop culture. Instead of portraying the martial arts genre as something foreign to American readers, Hendrix and Poggiali posit that kung fu–and by extension the myriad films that spawned from the nation’s fascination with it–has a complex history that weaves martial arts from countries like China, Japan, and Korea with the desperate yearning of the American dream. 

Needless to say, I was hooked. 

Like Hendrix’s previous nonfiction work, Paperbacks from Hell, These Fists Break Bricks discusses its subject in great detail, giving even the most uninitiated reader a good primer on the subject. In the case of Paperbacks from Hell, I knew a good bit about the origins of horror as a genre, even if I didn’t know about some of the wild pulp novels Hendrix covered (like the crab series by Guy N. Smith).

In These Fists Break Bricks, I had no clue what to think about kung fu flicks. Sure, I’d watched my fair share of Shaolin Soccer and Kung Fu Hustle before, but I’d never investigated the origins or significance of the genre. Luckily, Hendrix and Poggiali make everything easy to understand for readers unfamiliar with the content matter. No matter if you’re a master of the kung fu genre (like the Wu-Tang Clan’s RZA, who wrote the foreward for this book) or completely new to the world of martial arts, there’s something for you in These Fists Break Bricks. 

While it’s impossible for me to break down all the cool things in the book, it’s worth discussing a few key points that help make the text special and important in the larger context of the world, as well as the way pop culture frames kung fu films. 

The most profound through-line of These Fists Break Bricks hinges on a quote from WEB Dubois after he visited China. “But particularly know China. China is flesh of your flesh and blood of your blood,” he said. “China is colored, and knows to what the colored skin in this modern world subjects its owner.” Dubois speculated that China and its people knew what it felt like to be Black in America, to feel oppression and discrimination. That connection of oppression, then, brought Hong Kong action movies to the heart of New York City, where Black and Latinx audiences packed theaters to see kung fu movies. 

As These Fists Break Bricks argues, Black and Latinx audiences of the 70s and 80s connected with kung fu for many reasons why people still enjoy it today; at its heart, the kung fu genre focuses on an unarmed protagonist seeking to make a wrong right. With nothing but the power of their fists, the protaogonist often takes on something bigger than themselves, like an evil slumlord bent on destroying a community, or a corrupt government system meant to keep people down. Sometimes the protagonist sets out on a personal vendetta, to get revenge for a wronged loved one. Either way, kung fu is often the story of the little guy against impossible odds, and so many Americans can identify with that.

Instead of ineloquently making some grand connection between oppressed communities in the 70s and 80s and today, These Fists Break Bricks lets the reader to draw their own conclusions, which makes the book even more impactful. No one needs to mention that systemic racism is still thriving in America, or discuss how kung fu films can be a parallel for the inhumanity of some contemporary politics. Instead, readers get to understand kung fu and project its future by understanding its past.

I should also note that this book is fun to read, which isn’t always the case in my experience with nonfiction. There was never a moment when I felt bored or like the chapters were overly drawn out, even though the book is around 400 pages. In those pages, there are a multitude of colorful photographs of old movie posters and actors. Any time I found myself wondering what an actor looked like or what vibe a film was going for, a picture was there to help me understand. While that might sound like a given, the abundance of photographs actually kept me more engaged in These Fists Break Bricks. Instead of reaching for my phone to page Dr. Google, I had all the answers I needed right on the page. 

It’s no secret that Book Squad Goals is full of Grady Hendrix fans. We’ve had him on the podcast several times, and I think that his writing is some of the most thoughtful horror out there. That being said, it’s still impressive to take a genre I know very little about and make it not only interesting, but something I wanted to sit down and enjoy in one or two sittings. Chris Poggiali and Grady Hendrix really have a special thing in These Fists Break Bricks, and I can’t wait to suggest it to others. 

These Fists Break Bricks releases tomorrow, September 14 from Mondo. It’s gorgeous, enlightening, and perhaps just the thing we need to remind us that there’s always hope for the little guy, even if he shows up to the fight unarmed. 

Stray Observations:

-I learned so much about kung fu icon Bruce Lee from this book. I never knew much about him (aside from how one of his most iconic costumes inspired an outfit in Kill Bill), but his story really moved me. It’s a shame he died so young, but his impact was beyond important for the genre.

-Remember when everyone made Chuck Norris jokes that framed him as an absolute specimen of masculinity? He kind of seems like a weird figure within the kung fu genre, and I’m not sure how I feel about him. The 2000s were a weird time, right?

-I like to think that Mondo chose to release These Fists Break Bricks as a nice gift to me on my birthday. Thanks, Mondo!