Athletes start the century as normal, healthy citizens, and end up as potentially unhealthy physiological 'freaks', while the general public are increasingly urged to do more exercise and play more sports. This book offers a comprehensive study, and social history, of the development of sports medicine in Britain, as practiced by British doctors and on British athletes in national and international settings. It describes how and why, in Britain, medicine applied to sport became first an area of expertise known as sports medicine, and then a formal medical specialty: Sport and Exercise Medicine. In the late nineteenth century, vigorous exercise was an acceptable, probably necessary, part of the moderate healthy lifestyle for the normal, healthy man. Consequently sports medicine was part and parcel of normal medical treatment, distinguishable only through its location or through its patient history. There was no wide-spread de facto scepticism about the value of vigorous exercise among physicians and scientists. The normality of the young male athlete is reconsidered between 1928 and 1952. At the end of the period, the athlete becomes an abnormal or supernormal human being who demands specialist medical interventions. The formation and work of British Association of Sport and (Exercise) Medicine, the Institute of Sports Medicine, the Sports Council, and the British Olympic Association's Medical Committee is discussed. The book finally discusses fitness. Normal life, war, elite competition gives us an insight into how athletic bodies are conceptualised, and how sports medicine has formed and reformed over a century.
were gradually separated, as the athleticbody began to be medically, scientifically and socially constructed as a discrete physiological or clinical entity.
It was this distinction between normal athlete and normal citizen that allowed sports medicine to identify itself as a medical specialism by the 1950s and consolidate this position in the 1960s. In the later decades of the twentieth century this definition became problematic not only for sports medicine, but also for politicians, civil servants and sports organisations. The ‘leisure revolution’ and concurrent
consequence this chapter spends more time discussing institutions and their activities than has been the case for previous chapters. The work of these organisations, how they conceptualised their roles, tends to highlight the changed nature of the athleticbody in this time period. Interest in general fitness, in physical education, in the ‘health of the nation’ was stripped away, leaving a clear concentration on the elite, ab- or super-normal athleticbody. This was even the case for the Sports Council, despite the fact that this organisation was set up as a response to
, courageous, dedicated, motivated. 16 Yet alongside this conceptualisation a new type of athlete was emerging; muscle bound, fixated with winning; demonstrating a physique and ability unobtainable by the majority; state-sponsored, professional or shamateur. 17 By this period it was no longer tenable, as it had been in 1908, or even 1924, that a reasonably fit adult could approach the performance of an elite-level athlete. 18 Although it took another decade for some parts of the British sporting world to admit as much, by 1952 the athleticbody was in some respects no
?’ – the answer is yes. Much of this is at a very basic level, where injury occurs on the track or field and the athlete gets specially tailored medical first-aid in the first instance. But medical professionals, as well as a large body of laymen, prescribed and proscribed physical activity, injury treatments, pharmaceuticals, dietaries and training regimes. Major sporting events attracted a hard core of voluntary medical attendees, as well as curious physiologists interested in the athleticbody; some of these had special medical rules, such as compulsory medical
Variations on the abdomen in Marivaux’s L’Homère travesti and Le
’, instead of ‘belly’, provides an example of this inversion. ‘Potbelly’ (bedaine in French),
according to Furetière’s dictionary, is a ‘colloquial term’,9 which, as
the Dictionnaire de l’Académie française of 1694 further remarks,
‘is used only with comic intent’ (‘ne se dit qu’en raillerie’). It designates a fat belly and constitutes a synonym of ‘paunch’, ‘a fat,
protuberant belly’ (‘un ventre gras et trop gros’),10 and is ‘used only
in the colloquial style’ (‘il n’a d’usage que dans le style familier’).11
Far removed from the image of the athleticbodies of the epic
) required medical supervision and screening, there was no suggestion – from within either sport, medicine, or government – that blanket screening should be introduced for all competitive sports. A high level of medical intervention in lay sport was flatly refused by representatives from sport and sports medicine in their responses to the Council of Europe in the 1960s.
Secondly, when we talk about the institutionalisation of sports medicine where the athleticbody is a special object of clinical interest it is clear that Britain’s pattern of specialty formation is
symbolised a real challenge to the very justification for sports medicine – the athleticbody as a discrete medical object.
Although the leisure revolution of the 1970s was not quite as dramatic as promised (the leisure boom of the 1960s being curtailed by economic problems in the early ’70s), rising personal wealth did lead to an increased participation in sport, athletics and exercise in leisure time. 1 This was added to by increasing state intervention in sport, through the Sports Council and other organisations, an emergent public health drive to encourage exercise
Richly illustrated with over 110 colour and black and white images, the book
productively contests the supposedly exclusive feminine aspect of the style
moderne (art deco). It explores how alternative, parallel and overlapping
experiences and expressions of decorative modernism, nationalism, gender and
sexuality in the heady years surrounding World War I converge in the protean
figure of the deco dandy. As such, the book significantly departs from and
corrects the assumptions and biases that have dominated scholarship on and
popular perceptions of art deco. The book outlines how designed products and
representations of and for the dandy both existed within and outwith normative
expectations of gender and sexuality complicating men’s relationship to consumer
culture more broadly and the moderne more specifically. Through a sustained
focus on the figure of the dandy, the book offers a broader view of art deco by
claiming a greater place for the male body and masculinity in this history than
has been given to date. The mass appeal of the dandy in the 1920s was a way to
redeploy an iconic, popular and well-known typology as a means to stimulate
national industries, to engender a desire for all things made in France.
Important, essential and productive moments in the history of the cultural life
of Paris presented in the book are instructive of the changing role performed by
consumerism, masculinity, design history and national identity.
, athleticbodies there are subcutaneous enunciations of radically
conservative import, enunciations about the body and the Volk. But I also think
that they are not, or are not primarily, congruent with National Socialist racial
Although I agree with much of Mackenzie’s argument, there are elements
with which I take issue and, because of the nature of the debate, these deserve
to be examined further. It is, for example, extremely odd to refer to the director
of the overtly propagandistic Triumph of the Will, a personal associate of Hitler
and Josef Goebbels