Charles Atlas?

By Glen Goodhand

During a re-run of ‘Law and Order,’ reference was made to one of the characters in the drama as being a “97-pound weakling.”
That figure of speech means very little in the new millennium, but in the 1930s, ‘40s, ‘50s, and even the early ‘60s it was a much-used buzzword. Each time it was spoken or written, it brought to mind one Charles Atlas, body-builder extraordinaire.
Other muscle-bound weight lifters earned such titles as Mr. Universe, but this fine physical specimen was dubbed “the world’s most perfectly developed man.”
Born Angelo Siciliano in Calabria, Italy, in 1905, he moved to Brooklyn, New York in 1905, where he became a leather worker. In his advertisements, which promised the miraculous transformation from a “97-pound weakling” to a real he-man, he constantly made reference to the fact that he himself was at one time was skinny and weak. Having tried every kind of weight lifting and exercise in an effort to build his body to manly respectability, he developed his own method of physical enhancement. He called it “Dynamic Tension.”
Essentially it utilized pitting one set of muscles in one’s own body against another, utilizing resistance to develop muscles. In his case, this method worked.  Dr. Fredrick Tilney became aware of Angelo’s success and featured him in a short film entitled, “The Road To Health.”
As a result, Siciliano wrote a fitness course and the two went into business together. About that time a friend told him he resembled the statue of Atlas on top of a Coney Island hotel, so in 1922 he officially changed his name to Charles Atlas. He quickly became to most famous strong man of his day.
He advertised incessantly. Comic books and men’s magazines featured his repetitious appeals “to make a new man out of you.” Another come-on challenged: “Would you mail this coupon to get a body like mine?”
There was always a strategically placed image of the man himself—after all, the best “proof of the pudding is in the eating.”
His advertising followed a changeless routine. In comic strip style, a scrawny guy, accompanied by his girl, is victim of a bully, who insults his physic, and embarrasses him, usually verbally and physically. A favourite one featured “Mac,” sitting with his gal on the beach, having sand kicked in their faces by a cool dude. Sick of being pushed around, he orders the Charles Atlas course. Months later he accosts the bully on the same beach and punches him out, getting his girl back and gaining the admiration of everyone else. The scenes vary from this one—from a dance floor and a circus—but the story line is consistent. Legend has it that these “adventures” were based on Atlas’ own experiences.
Not only was he well built as he worked as an artist’s model, but he was very strong. While his business was developing he worked as a circus strongman.
The course was outlined in a “free” book. But it was merely a compilation of testimonies. Once received, the $35 charge was revealed. This writer admits to ordering the book at age 14. When I could not come up with the cash, attempts to enroll me continued, until the cost was down to $5.