Trump: The Art of the Deal (Book Review)
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When *Trump: The Art of the Deal* hit shelves in 1987, it wasn’t just a book—it was a megaphone for a brash, golden-haired real estate mogul named Donald Trump. Co-authored with journalist Tony Schwartz, this 384-page manifesto blends memoir, business advice, and unabashed self-promotion into a cocktail that’s as polarizing as its creator. Billed as a glimpse into the mind of a deal-making maestro, it catapulted Trump from New York tabloid fixture to national icon, long before reality TV and politics cemented his fame. Reading it today, nearly four decades later, feels like unearthing a time capsule—part swaggering playbook, part cultural artifact. This review digs into what makes *The Art of the Deal* tick—its bombastic style, its peek into Trump’s world, its lessons (or lack thereof), and its enduring, if controversial, legacy.
The Voice of a Showman
Open the book, and Trump’s voice hits you like a brass band—loud, confident, and unapologetic. He narrates a week in his life, hopping from meetings to construction sites, dropping names like Ivana, Roy Cohn, and the mayor of New York with the ease of a Vegas emcee. The prose, polished by Schwartz’s pen, is punchy and conversational, as if Trump’s leaning across a barstool, regaling you with tales of outsmarting bankers and snagging prime real estate. Take his account of reviving the Commodore Hotel into the Grand Hyatt: it’s less a story of logistics than a victory lap, complete with boasts about his “instinct” and “vision.”
That’s the magic—and the limit—of the book’s style. It’s entertaining as hell, a masterclass in bravado that mirrors Trump’s persona. But it’s also shallow, more sizzle than steak. You’ll find no introspective pauses or quiet doubts here—just a relentless drumbeat of wins. For some, this is a thrill ride; for others, it’s a one-note tune that wears thin. Either way, it’s unmistakably Trump, a voice that demands attention even if it doesn’t always earn trust.
The Gospel of the Deal
At its core, *The Art of the Deal* promises to teach you how to win in business, Trump-style. The book lays out 11 commandments—“Think Big,” “Maximize Your Options,” “Get the Word Out”—each paired with anecdotes from his empire-building days. The standout is his turnaround of the Wollman Rink in Central Park, a public project he swooped in to fix after the city fumbled it. He spins it as proof of his efficiency and grit, a David-and-Goliath tale where he’s both hero and giant. It’s vintage Trump: bold, practical, and dripping with self-congratulation.
Yet, the lessons feel more like a highlight reel than a blueprint. He advises leveraging publicity and negotiating hard, but the specifics—how he secured loans, navigated zoning laws—stay vague. It’s less a how-to manual and more a hype machine, celebrating the hustle without dissecting it. Critics have long noted the irony: Schwartz later admitted he wrote most of it, and Trump’s real-world record—bankruptcies, lawsuits—casts a shadow over the “art” he touts. Still, there’s an undeniable energy to his approach, a gambler’s zest that’s hard to dismiss.
A Window into Trump’s World
The book’s real draw is its peek behind the curtain of 1980s Trump. This is pre-apprentice, pre-presidency Trump—a brash 41-year-old riding high on Reagan-era excess. He’s obsessed with winning, whether it’s snagging Trump Tower’s air rights or outbidding rivals for Atlantic City casinos. The stories brim with larger-than-life characters: gruff contractors, slick financiers, even a cameo from his father, Fred, whose shadow looms large. You can almost smell the hairspray and cigar smoke, taste the ambition in the air.
What’s striking, though, is how personal it feels. Trump revels in the game—phoning reporters with tips, charming politicians, betting big on gut calls. There’s a boyish glee in lines like, “I play to people’s fantasies,” a rare moment of candor about his knack for selling dreams. But the book skirts the messier edges: the failed ventures, the human cost of his bulldozing style. It’s a curated myth, a funhouse mirror reflecting the Trump he wants you to see—invincible, unstoppable, always closing the deal.
The Cracks in the Facade
For all its swagger, *The Art of the Deal* has blind spots that grow glaring with hindsight. Trump paints a world where he’s infallible, but the cracks were already there—overleveraged properties, looming debts. The 1990s would humble him with bankruptcies, a story this book can’t tell. Schwartz, who later disavowed the project, called it a “fictionalized” portrait, claiming Trump exaggerated feats and dodged failures. Reading it now, you sense the hype outpacing reality, a tale too polished to be fully true.
The book also sidesteps deeper questions. What’s the cost of this deal-obsessed life—to relationships, to ethics, to society? Trump’s family gets brief nods—Ivana as the glamorous wife, his kids as props—but there’s no soul-searching, no reckoning with the collateral damage of his climb. It’s a worldview where winning is all, and the rest is noise. That simplicity is its strength and its flaw, a lens that dazzles but doesn’t reflect.
A Relic with Relevance
In 2025, *Trump: The Art of the Deal* feels both dated and eerily alive. The 1980s glitz—gold fixtures, private jets—evokes a bygone era, yet Trump’s ethos of self-promotion and spectacle thrives in our social media age. His presidency, polarizing as it was, amplified the traits this book celebrates: confidence bordering on hubris, a knack for bending narratives, a refusal to back down. It’s not a policy playbook—there’s no hint of governance here—but it’s a Rosetta Stone for decoding the man who’d later lead America.
Is it a great book? Not quite. It’s too thin on substance, too heavy on hype to rank among business classics. But it’s a hell of a read—funny, brash, and oddly addictive, like a late-night infomercial you can’t turn off. For better or worse, it’s Trump distilled: a dealmaker’s gospel that sells itself hard and leaves you wondering where the truth ends and the show begins. Love him or loathe him, *The Art of the Deal* is a ride worth taking—if only to see the seeds of a phenomenon still unfolding.