Gladwell does this deftly and economically, getting you into the heart of the matter before you know it.

We’ve generally absorbed David and Goliath as the story of the little guy surprising the big guy, but it turns out to be much more subtle and interesting than that when the context is better elucidated and some historical elements are expounded upon. What caught my attention from the start were the subtleties Gladwell uncovered in the David and Goliath story. Needless to say, the book drew me in, and I finished it within a few busy days. I waded in thus encumbered with doubts and reluctance, and vowed to limit my initial excursion into Gladwellia to a dash across the border to see if I’d return later. This feeling of Gladwell déjà vu isn’t helped by the fact that his books’ designs are so monotonous - white cover, stark type, single iconic image, same trim size. I’ve read his books and his writing in the New Yorker for years, which has resulted in a creeping intolerance for Gladwell’s approaches to framing ideas and his style of writing.

Not only had I read “The Sports Gene,” which to me did a much better job of exploring the 10,000-hour rule Gladwell wrote about in “Outliers,” but I was channeling the Gladwell fatigue emanating from many quarters, and which I suffered from a bit myself. I had reservations about delving back into a Gladwell book. “David and Goliath” by Malcolm Gladwell moldered on my nightstand for many months before I recently picked it up. David and Goliath, a colour lithograph by Osmar Schindler (c.

David goliath malcolm gladwell