An in-depth biography of the controversial pro-wrestling titan.
Riesman, the author of True Believer: The Rise and Fall of Stan Lee, opens with Ron DeSantis, who made an early exception to Covid-19 rules by allowing pro-wrestling productions to be filmed by any company that met certain criteria. Only one did, namely World Wrestling Entertainment, owned by Vince McMahon and his wife, Linda, the latter a major Republican player who “donated $7 million to pro-Trump super PACs” in 2016. In many ways, McMahon’s backstory is a classic rags-to-riches tale, but as Riesman notes, it was fueled by an arsenal of resentments, with McMahon once declaring, “I’m going to be the guy that I despised when I was growing up.” Becoming that guy involved both real-world nastiness and a healthy amount of kayfabe, carnival talk for the fictions that suppose that, for instance, Rowdy Roddy Piper and Hulk Hogan were truly mortal enemies both inside and outside the ring. Kayfabe also describes the overall fabrication that the action in pro wrestling is real and unscripted. The “new status quo,” writes Riesman, involves neokayfabe, where “the pleasure of watching a match has less to do with who wins than with the excitement of decoding it.” It doesn’t take much to integrate these terms into the Trumpian universe—and, according to some observers, McMahon is one of but two people from whom Trump will accept a call anytime. For her part, Linda McMahon was “a perfect example of kayfabe morality,” heading the Small Business Administration under the Trump administration without apparent scandal—even as WWE was striking a lucrative deal with the Saudi government that now constitutes a large percentage of its revenue. Toppled from leadership by financial scandal, McMahon still controls the WWE as majority shareholder, and “his legacy is secure in the industry he remade.
A vivid, warts-and-all portrait of the man behind WrestleMania—and much of the worst of contemporary politics.