""Perhaps this should be titled ""Confessions of the Advertising Man"" who... Hathaway with its eyepatch, Puerto Rico's Operation Bootstrap and Schweppes on the map, who handles Shell, Maxwell House Coffee, Lever Brothers, Helena Rubinstein, etc., to a total of nineteen privileged clients. A Scotsman who came to Madison avenue via the great kitchen of the Hotel Majestic in Paris, presided over by Chef whose executive example he has endeavored to emulate; who failed Oxford, worked on Gallup polls and tobacco farmed in Pennsylvania, David Ogilvy deals in ades as he tells how to run an advertising agency (an executive is a father); how to get and keep clients (the hunt is sport; handling accounts is deadly serious business); how to build great campaigns; how to write potent copy (headlines are half the battle); how to illustrate advertisements and posters (photographs sell, illustrations don't): how to make good television commercials (vision and repetition are all); how to make good campaigns for specific fields (food products, tourist destinations and proprietary medicines); and for the tyro, how to rise to the top (specialize in media, research or copy). He also tells clients how to handle their agencies to best advantage, and neatly parries the thrusts at advertising in general. In his book a good advertisement should sell its product without drawing attention to itself; even so, one is pleasantly aware of Mr. Ogilvy, whose presentation is expert, urbane and definite. This grey flannel suit is Sears Roebuck (a client) tweed and the man inside it, the most successful entrepreneur in the medium, may now attract those outside it.