Swole: The Making of Men and the Meaning of Muscle

by Michael Andor Brodeur

From a Washington Post critic and self-described a witty, incisive, poignant exploration of male body image, from the history of the gym to the politics of superheroes to the world of manfluencers

Michael Brodeur is a Gen-X gay writer with a passion for bodybuilding and an insatiable curiosity about masculinity--a concept in which many men are currently struggling to find their place. In our current moment, where "manfluencers" on TikTok tease their audiences with their latest videos, where right-wing men espouse the importance of being "alpha," as toxic masculinity and the patriarchy are being rightfully criticized, the nature of masculinity has become murkier than ever.

In excavating this complex topic, Brodeur uses the male body as his its role in cultures from the gymnasia of ancient Greece to Walt Whitman's essays on manly health, from the rise of Muscular Christianity in 19th-century America to the swollen superheroes and Arnold Schwarzeneggers of Brodeur's childhood. Interweaving history, cultural criticism, memoir, and reportage, laced with an irrepressible wit, Brodeur takes us into the unique culture centered around men's bodies, probing its limitations and the promise how men can love themselves while rejecting the aggression, objectification, and misogyny that have for so long accompanied the quest to become swole.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, History, Sociology, Queer, Gender, LGBT

256 pages, Kindle Edition

Published May 28, 2024

About the author

Michael Andor Brodeur has been the classical music critic at the Washington Post since 2020. Previously, he held editorial and staff-writer positions at the Boston Globe and Boston’s Weekly Dig. His essays, humor, and criticism have also appeared in Nylon, Thrillist, Entrepreneur, Medium, McSweeney’s Internet Tendency and other publications. He has also released 5 music albums under different monikers, most recently writing and performing electronic music under the name New Dad.

Reviews

[Nathan Shuherk · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this. Structured like a workout, it builds - getting stronger and more (emotionally) powerful with each chapter. It’s a beautiful look at the personalities, the personhood, and the cultures of the male obsession with strength that never felt like it was cheating or taking any short cuts

[Corey · Rating 3 out of 5]

Skip this (sometimes) regressive humble brag-in-essays. If you’re interested in an academic, intersectional, and more nuanced treatment of masculinity, read R.W. Connell’s book, “Masculinities.”

[Andy Hoover · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think this is a wonderfully insight and intelligent book, written for the 30/40 something and loaded with our childhood and popculture...I felt it had too many winding paths and diversions, long trails through sleepy personal ancedotes, to really be exceptional - but the core ideas, the point, the end of those roads are all amazing.

Early on I was struck, and will forever carry, "be strong enough to be gentle"

[James · Rating 3 out of 5]

More of a memoir than an objective look into men.

[Jake · Rating 4 out of 5]

More meditative than conclusive, which I found refreshing. This book offers a collection of reflections on various facets of masculinity, rather than the prescription for a cure to toxic masculinity that many books in the genre offer.

To his credit, Brodeur is a true wordsmith. He is a master of the pithy phrase, to a fault. There were times in this book when I wished he would dispense with the flowery words and just have out with it. When every sentence is a work of art, they all kind of lose their luster.

Solid read. I recommend it to anyone bewildered by the modern iteration of the masculine gender role.

[Annika Papke · Rating 5 out of 5]

continuing on my journey to tolerate and maybe one day even love men 💆🏼‍♀️

[Jacob Binder · Rating 4 out of 5]

When I picked up this book, I was expecting that it would be a critical interrogation of masculinity as seen through the lens of the masculine obsession with muscular form. It wasn't quite that. It's more of a survey of historical and cultural influences which have shaped our contemporary understanding of the ideal male body, mixed with personal outtakes from Michael Andor Brodeur's life which accentuate and relate back to those influences. Each chapter is a magazine-style homage to different jacked cultural icons across American/Western culture, from He-Man and The Hulk, to Hercules and Milo of Croton, to Lou Ferrigno and Arnold Schwarzenegger. For what it is, Swole is good reporting and good writing. Each subchapter reads like a piece of long-form journalism mixed with personal essay/memoir. The strongest chapter, in my opinion, is the final chapter, "Bones." It is there, on the final page, as he recounts the painful details of his dad's aging body, that Andor Brodeur finally gets at what I think is the end-road of any serious interrogation into identity based on body image: "My dad isn't his body. None of us are." I just wish the rest of the book had done more to lean into that same ethos and inquiry-Ultimately, our bodies are fragile and impermanent and underwhelmingly real. What happens when that reality catches up to us?

[Doug · Rating 2 out of 5]

Too many reps in this set. Written as if no one in the past 10 years has written about MRAs and the far right. Glad this author enjoys pumping iron as much as they do but it didn’t really make for all that insightful of a book. Would have appreciated more chapters like the one on his friend/former lover Little Big or containing a more focused look at the history of physical fitness culture. The sections bestowing what amounted to “workout wisdom” were quite unnecessary.

[Jeff Siperly · Rating 1 out of 5]

It was imperative I stopped.
If I had to read one more time about how big he’s gotten or is getting.

Methinks author thinks very highly of himself.

[Lo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really why do people workout? The pursuit of swole or attractive or whatever is an endless chase of an impossible and ever changing standard imposed primarily by white supremacist views of beauty. A lot of us would say it’s for the stress relief and dopamine rush, or the routine it adds to life, or wanting to have a repellent from harassment, or could it also be the health benefits. But why?

We can talk about the “ideal masculine” body going back to Greek statues of ripped and beautifully white torsos, with rippling veins as an extension of whiteness, hetero-patriarchy, and nationalism. We can talk about the golden era of bodybuilding, the height of the WWF, and the rise of superheroes as an extension of Reagan-era consumption and a post-Vietnam reassertion of American global dominance. In the west (and largely in American culture) fitness is a way for us to self-actualize. It’s an individual achievement of autonomy that can be freeing in a hyper-individualized society. The meathead or Arnold or CBUM or whoever, is an icon for excess and an image of power. Our images of what we want to achieve are all fantasies. Whether that is a “natty” lifter on a stack of steroids, Hercules in repose, or Hugh Jackman being ripped at 50, how can we compare ourselves?

The body is weird. It’s the material and unspoken language that is spoken to everyone who can see it. The meathead can be viewed as thick in more ways than one. But do we ignore the Ancient Greek idea of “arete” and Marx’s ideas that body and mind are inseparable and both must be worked to be an honorable man. Are our muscles indicative of what’s underneath? The gender, the brain, does it make us a morally good superhero or a brainless henchman? But more than any of this, what are big muscles if not performance? As RuPaul said, “we are all born naked and the rest is drag!”

We can lie to ourselves and say that lifting weight is dominant but really it’s the most submissive thing men will do. It’s an endless pursuit of failure, something that “men” typically are not allowed to do. It’s when we don’t have to “no homo” the care we show to other men, we allow ourselves to learn, to grow. Weightlifting may be the only time “positive masculinity” is displayed openly and proudly.

Broduer shocked me. I picked this book up expecting a deep theoretical analysis of our interpretation of our bodies. This book is more of a memoir of queerness, masculinity, and the culture around weightlifting, all in the vein of Audre Lorde’s Zami. Though I wish the book went more into the philosophical and structural nature of men’s relationship with their bodies, I still wasn’t disappointed and that’s not the full intention of this book.

[Amr Jal · Rating 3 out of 5]

ambitious nonfiction debut with a distinct (annoying at times) writing voice debut that is unable to provide anything more than initial layer deep commentary on masculinity and the idealogical origins/ history of masculinities through past civilizations , philosophers of antiquity to modern day super heroes. At times the book removes its pump cover and reveal what the book is trying to be : memoir centered around male bodies, homosexuality, body dysmorphia, and the intense desire of approval and physical touch between men, which is the most interesting and human part of the book. I hope the author gets to tackle it at some point in the future, and the gym bro writing voice became tiresome very fast.


3.5 stars.

[Katie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Nonfiction book about the pressure on men to be buff. Interesting parallels to the pressure on women to be thin, and some men can get just as obsessed to unhealthy levels. Lots of info on this topic going back in history.

[Nine Muses · Rating 4 out of 5]

A bit repetitive at times, but a great reflection on the role of masculinity in society throughout history, and how it has changed and stayed the same. I personally enjoyed the anecdotes - the book did lag a bit towards the end, but overall an enjoyable read that everyone can learn something from. I appreciated his critique and self awareness around how certain ideals around masculinity are charged by race, sexual identity, etc.

[Jonah Gold · Rating 4 out of 5]

erotic non fiction is hot

[Paul Lopez · Rating 4 out of 5]

Not what I expected but I enjoyed it anyway.

[Ryan Ard · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed this book like I enjoy everything exercise related. The book was well written and had fun stories about the author’s life.

[Jack Wright · Rating 2 out of 5]

I was super excited for this but I found it to be pretty boring and honestly a bit regressive? Probably would’ve been more a more impactful read in 2010. Also, this guy loves himself. A lot.

[Warren Hoffman · Rating 5 out of 5]

this is an excellent, extremely well written book that's part memoir, part cultural history, part cultural criticism all about male identity and male bodies. very thought provoking

[Kayla Howe · Rating 4 out of 5]

I imbibed this book one chapter at a time. Although my identity and generation are different than the author’s, I still fell into the story, particularly about three chapters in. I also felt strongly by the end that he would be someone so fascinating to meet in person. His writing voice alone is reason enough to pick this one up.

[Ryan · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed Brodeur's voice a lot, and most of these essays were engaging enough, but I wanted more. More of him, more personal elements. The integration of memoir with cultural history or criticism is very hot right now, and some people do it really well, and others not so much. I think this book felt a little first-drafty to me. Like I said, I just wanted it to go deeper on the personal, or more contemporary elements of his ideas. I would definitely read more from Brodeur though.

[andy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Interesting read. Started soon after it was reported how much the toxic manosphere had a part to play in reelecting Trump (though it was already in my TBR pile) so that made some of it more prescient. Overall a very interesting history of the ways Masculinity (tm) has been shaped by history through art and culture as well as the author's own memoir about growing up and their own struggles and history with fitting into masculinity. Not all of it stuck with me (some of the history slid off my smooth brain) but it was interesting to see how we have always idolized the "perfect male physique" and yet so rarely admit how unattainable it is and all the damage it does to try to fit into that shell.

[Chris · Rating 3 out of 5]

Entertaining to read but left me wanting more. I expected/hoped for a bit more critique of the performance of masculinity. The book instead takes the construction of gym culture and its impact on masculinity on its face. Fun and touching as memoir, underwhelming as cultural critique.

[Jerry Painter · Rating 3 out of 5]

Great writing but I could never get to the heart of the purpose.

[Michael · Rating 4 out of 5]

No pun intended, but the whole thing could have been tighter. That said, it is an engaging and humorous read.

[Joe McManus · Rating 2 out of 5]

Loved the scope and intersectionality — social media, feminist theory, gay culture, personal memories — but really wished it had more conclusions/proposed more theory

[M Burke · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautifully written book about notions of masculinity, the history of body building, and the cultural influences that promote unhealthy self-image among men. The author’s prose is gorgeous; I found myself highlighting paragraphs and quoting them to friends. He covers Reagan-era deregulation of the FCC (allowing advertising straight to children, including of He-Man), TikTok, manfluencers, paleo, drag, Henry Rollins, the Hulk, and countless other popular phenomena that shaped how he felt about his own body (once thin, now swole) and sexuality (he’s gay). A few favorite passages are below.

On toxic masculinity:

I’ve never understood why it was considered an effective deterrent to label masculinity gone awry as “toxic.” Branding corrosive ideas of masculinity as “toxic” is akin to pouring them into a gray plastic bodywash bottle—it makes them more appealing to men, not less. Among men, “toxic” has now become a byword for “badass.” I propose the more straightforward “broken masculinity” as a potential replacement primarily because it accurately describes what we’re dealing with—a model of masculinity that’s completely broken—but also because it’s less likely that men will walk around puffing their chests and declaring themselves “broken.”

On TikTok:

For some reason, I joined TikTok. Just to see. I shouldn’t have done it. I know this. For one thing I’m forty-eight and—yeah. For another, upon quick inspection, TikTok strikes me as less of a platform than a bottomless bog of digital quicksand—the app version of that scene from The Never-Ending Story where Artax the horse gets slowly devoured by the Swamp of Sadness, only in this metaphor I’m genuinely unsure whether I’m Artax sinking or Atreyu helplessly tugging the reins from the muddy shore or the actual Swamp of Sadness itself.

On drag:

The intensified strictures of today’s broken masculinity demand men abhor the very ambiguity that defines drag. This deeply programmed male repulsion by the feminine is why drag exists to begin with—it draws its transgressive force from the brazen violation of cross-dressing: men breaking uniform. The body of a drag queen—her big hair, her fierce paint, her rhinestones, her padded curves, her impossible heels, her tuck—is a defiance of the gravity of masculinity, a bursting of its seams. Men are protective of their gender roles precisely because their gender roles are so protective of them. These roles provide lines, blocking, costumes, and direction—not to mention privilege. Gender roles are a foundation of rules upon which men can construct their identities, and they require a watertight seal. If gender becomes fluid, the fortress becomes porous. The guard is down, the gates are open.

On “the ‘war on masculinity’”

For many men, especially the white ones, our society’s movement from the physical realm to a virtual one has felt like a demotion. The “other” had always been theirs to define; now men are the ones getting subjected to definition. They’ve become white men. Or white cisgender men. Or white straight cisgender men. And boy, they do not like it. The result is a perceived “war on masculinity,” an attempt by the shadowy forces of “modernity” to tame “real men” through systemic emasculation. As culprits, men will point to the wrath of umpteenth-wave feminism, the expansion of human sexuality, and the collapse of gender binaries as tectonic shifts that threaten to topple ancient structures into ruins, though perhaps not in terms so gentle.


On “The Hulk”

When I rewatch the show now, the message seems even more refined: anger curdled into rage essentially changes a man into a beast to which he can claim to have no connection and over which he can exert no control. . . I always found it strange that there was no Happy Hulk, or Sullen Hulk, or Jealous Hulk . . . Which is strange because the Hulk is meant to be an expression of repressed emotions, and my decades of living under the rules of masculinity have instructed me that anger is the one emotion we’re fully authorized to display. The “raging spirit” that most men keep locked inside to fester and churn is actually their fear, their uncertainty, their sadness, and sometimes even their joy.

[Andres Alfredo · Rating 5 out of 5]

(No dumbbell left uncurled)

Idk how to review books so this is a summary/review for me.


This book is about men and men’s ideological history. Where do men get their beliefs for masculinity? This book offers readers rich historical perspectives from classical sculptors interpretations of Roman and Greek mythology to the designers and marketers of action hero’s and artistic and non-artisic motives.

In addition to the historical archive this book becomes the author uses personal experiences as a gay man traversing what it means to be a ‘man’ and sheds light on the topic. It is eye opening.

Childhood, adolescence, adulthood, in all stages of life men are asking themselves what is means to be a man and society asks them “how manly are you?” Many men follow a hyper masculine trope that the author, well wrote a whole book about. As he walks us through what i describe the history of ‘men wanting to be masculine’ I found myself seeing that muscles, looks, and wanting to be bigger than the other guy is not necessarily what makes one a man.

This book is a solid choice for any man who wants to understand what gender on a spectrum is. By exposing the audience to the historical accounts of the many Hercules statues, and bodybuilders in an era where their physique was unordinary men are left realizing that the physiques they are worshiping and dying to emulate (quite literally) are on the far end of the masculine presenting spectrum.

I love this book.

[Dusty · Rating 4 out of 5]

There’s a lot I loved about this book. It’s at times funny, at times moving, and often quite insightful. In particular, I was really taken by the thread through which Brodeur connects Hellenic ideals of male beauty, to 19th/20th century physical culture, fascism, bear and leather daddy subcultures, and beefy toys from the 80s. Through this, Brodeur elucidates a great deal of the anxieties thrust upon the male body, which I feel are often disregarded.

That said, a great deal of the book also seems to be focused on Brodeur rationalizing his participation in a fitness culture that, by his own admission, is dangerous, unrealistic, and (my words here) icky as hell. At one point he even defends the use of steroids, framing them as perhaps necessary and gender affirming (even for cis men). To me, this reads as profoundly absurd; that we ought to defend steroid use rather than do the much harder work of critically reframing what masculine beauty is, which is what I hoped this book might do. Of course, I’m not just disagreeing with the book—I think much of what Brodeur attempts to assert in this book doesn’t quite stack up.

Nevertheless, it was quite a pleasure to read such a broad examination of male beauty that also attempts to portray beefiness as classical, graceful, and worthy of admiration, rather than the fear and implicit violence present in the muscular form.

[Aidan Keenan · Rating 4 out of 5]

A surprisingly well-researched and well-written series of essays with frequently compelling insights but without a distinct thesis.

The writing is frequently quite beautiful and, while it often reads more like art/media criticism than the social analysis I was expecting, I didn’t particularly dislike that and it introduced me to some cool new stuff (this guy REALLY likes the Farnese Hercules). The author is able to construct (for the most part) compelling histories of modern conceptions of masculinity and fitness while providing some thoughtful reflections on how the two intersect. Some favorite threads:

- discussion of conception of mind and body at opposite ends of a spectrum with cultivation of one resulting in the neglect of the other
- highlighting the interesting parallel rise in strength training among men with the advent of women’s suffrage (men seeking to counter gains in women’s political power with gains in their physical power)
- chapter on male aversion to drag but embrace of bodybuilding despite significant overlap in their objectives, rituals, and outcomes

Although it was personal, witty, and at times quite moving, it was peppered with the perfunctory bad gay joke interjections that gay nonfiction writers seem unable to resist.

[Jared · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book encapsulates the essence of masculinity in the modern world. The author's wit and humor had me laughing at times, while his ability to strike a chord with deeply reflective content made me pause and introspect to the point where I had to put down the book at times. As a gay man, reading Brodeur's exploration of masculinity resonated strongly with me. He brought up familiar thoughts and scenes about navigating a world that often criticizes you for not being 'masculine enough', while also dealing with the expectations of the gay community to uphold the same standards. The book delves deep into what it means to be healthy, strong, and attractive but also questions how these qualities are measured. It was refreshing to see Brodeur challenge the images of hypermasculinity projected by figures, and it made me question how these images have influenced my perceptions of attractiveness and strength. "Swole" is a thoughtful, funny, and reflective piece of writing that I would highly recommend. It's left me eager to read anything else Brodeur has to write, and has me fantasizing about having brunch or a workout session with him!