(In the end, I actually went with the audio, but thank you for this review copy!)

I really loved this. Usually I have to read running books to get this feeling, even though I don't like running, because it's the only sport that people write about with this kind of love for feeling inside your body. I also learned a lot of fascinating stuff that I didn't know, despite reading an inordinate number of books about strength training and all the fitness industry trades. I loved this and the combination of memoir, science, and history.

I envisioned this one grabbing me like Bill Bryson's The Body did...crazy interesting facts about our body's muscles that kept me reverting. Admittedly, I was taking a chance on this one because it's outside my wheelhouse. Unfortunately, it felt like the author inserted way too much of herself and her story into the book - I wanted to learn about muscles! - and I was bored to tears through many of her personal stories.

Why I Picked It Up

Bonnie Tsui wrote one of my favorite microhistories, Why We Swim, which made me realize which qualities I loved most in nonfiction: personal, poignant commentary in combination feels significant, and I love how wide Why We Swim goes in tying together multiple interdisciplinary subjects. So when I saw she was writing a book on strength training? Hell yeah. Sign me up.

I read plenty about physical endurance and fitness. There's the limit-pushing Endure by Alex Hutchinson, the gendered Let's Get Physical by Danielle Friedman, and an assortment of other titles rotating around why I find it so significant: mastery, quantifiable pursuit, excellence, mind-body connection. So I knew On Muscle would likely hit the spot.

Where I Read It

Ironically enough, I ended up reading most of On Muscle in ten-minute spurts on my eReader while waiting for my group training classes to start at my gym.

For the last year or so while revising my book again, I've largely done at-home workouts: runs, bikes, and the like. I've tried the fitness studios up on the North Shore (and they're tough!) but tend to feel like if I'm just taking a mat-based class then I could do it myself for free. So with book edits done, I'm going hard on the conditioning cadence. Strength classes (I like someone correcting my lifting), ballet and dance, hikes, runs, swimming laps. I love variety, but appreciate being in a strict rhythm or cadence. For the record, I discovered this was also the prime way to survive [redacted book process.]

So a precise combination of sensations contributed to the feeling of reading On Muscle too: that specific stickiness of the mat floors at the gym against my legs, electrolytes in hand, a little nervous for the countdown to start. Driving back home, feeling the tiredness hit in my back, golden light, wet hair drying from the gym showers. I love a lot of the small satisfactions related to that ecosystem, and that intensified my appreciation of the book.

On Muscle is a speedy read; it feels a little more plainspoken—or perhaps just less personal—than Why We Swim, so I did have to force myself through it at some points. Less colorful in some ways, but still with plenty to latch onto.

“It's a good life if you don't weaken.”

The Book Itself
Bonnie Tsui approaches strength training, muscle, and fitness through a few different topics and stories—definitely her style. I ultimately think the anecdotes or rabbit holes she chose were more loosely related than those from Why We Swim, meaning that readers may feel she connects them too abstractly.

Ultimately, I liked them all, but as I noted above, found my interest drifting at certain points. The book wasn't quite as continuous as her former. I love her voice enough that I didn't mind, but y'all should know it's much more of
a memoir in feel.

One point is that being physically strong and tough was immensely important to her father, so that was a way they bonded during periods of distance, such as after he moved out of the U.S. and stopped contacting the family. You get the visual of a little girl doing calisthenics with her brother because that was a way of earning her dad's approval, an image that's undoubtedly personal.

That's a strength of Tsui's curiosity I do appreciate, albeit makes her more of a fit for certain readers than others. She's unafraid to introduce the personal elements of why an activity matters to her, which I think is crucial to understanding why a pursuit like strength training affects others too. Most hobbies we have operate on multiple levels: cultural and individual. She loves to follow a thread.

She starts the book by talking about Jan Todd, a female powerlifter who shattered barriers, and points out how Todd discovering her peculiar capacity for the sport was somewhat accidental.

On Muscle excels most, I think, in line-level insights and prose. Her style and tone are overall lovely, and you can tell that she's a person who finds significance in these singular, symbolic moments. She's very vocab-focused, as I said above, so will often muse about the metaphor for example of shouldering something as an act of generosity, or how a synonym for muscle is potency. What atrophies, and what grows?

“We move our bodies through the world, and our minds follow. The artist Paul Klee described visual art as a record of movement, from beginning to end—a drawing of a dancer, say, is made by a roving hand, which pins down the movement of said dancer, and the finished work is then appreciated by an audience's ever-tracking eye.”

“We often think about muscle as existing separately from intellect—and maybe even oppositional to it, one taking resources from another.”

“New research with populations recovering from post-traumatic stress illustrates how lifting weights helps people feel more at ease and in control of their bodies. If you can improve your physical strength in a solid, visible way, it can reframe your self-perception: Look what I did! This is evidence that I'm different now.”

Personal Connection to the Book
As I mentioned, I've been especially fascinated by embodiment and physical limitation lately. I find it extremely helpful—and healthy—for me to have specific ways to get out of my brain and into my body after long days drafting or on screens. (Related: I'm trying to force myself to become a morning workout person, but I'm smartest first thing and get progressively dumber throughout my day—so try not to waste my most intelligent window.) There's a lot we only learn by doing.

I resonated with Bonnie Tsui's notes on how the perception of physical strength reverberates throughout society, and actually had the delight of learning a new vocabulary word I'm about to be obsessed with: atavistic. I adore her vocabulary.

It's silly to share, but I somehow ended up only ever dating athletes in high school and college, and I think that's (beyond the various evolutionary qualities we're attracted to) because of what this book points out—that it's not like other people aren't equally driven or capable, but athleticism is an almost immediately visible shorthand for endurance and willpower. The people I tend to get along with best are incredibly "active" people—not solely physically, but that's a helpful shorthand. They're likely to understand my drive, solitary hours devoted to the mastery of something, exhaustion and the push, operating in seasons and cycles, etc,.

“Show me you're in good form; show me you're a person of action. Character that's grounded in something you can feel. It's a way to assert presence.”

For me, I've always found an athletic challenge helpful to have in parallel to my other projects. Because my work and output (writing and art) is so subjectively judged, having an objective goal or purpose helps me to keep my head on straight and keep myself aligned with my identity as a disciplined and capable person. It's satisfying to have a domain in which consistency is rewarded, and visible, when so much of what I've been grappling with lately has to do with the frustration that effort and result are not always 1:1. It feels so good to see incremental progress, to be able to relish a process that ultimately does not hinge on a final judgement, and to prove to myself that I'm as tough on the outside as on the inside.

“In his writings, Galen describes muscles as the drivers of voluntary action and thus our human selves.”

Plus, endorphins make you happy (cueing that H&N processing system), and I do like the aesthetics of muscle especially as someone who loved figure drawing so much. I love shutting my laptop, getting the hell out of my house, and getting to straight-up black out my brain for a portion of my day when it often feels far too active. Switch into a different mode.

“Part of the fun of attempting the impossible, of course, is surprising yourself when you get there.”

Various Curiosities Sparked by the Book
Recently, I've also been thinking about the poetics of muscle being built by training until failure and what it means to be a person who's good at failure. A lot of people just can't mentally stomach being confronted with that line of inability. But you're supposed to go until you hit failure, hurt and recover, and come back better the next time. That's literally the science behind what makes you stronger, and avoiding that isn't resilience; it's ego. So there's a certain kind of relentlessness I appreciate about the process and about me.

I loved Tsui's conversation with Dacher Keltner, who I've been talking a lot about lately as he's the primary researcher spearheading studies of awe. He described emotions as being about action and the preparation and intention
for action, which I think is a framework I'd never considered because normally we think of emotion as something impeding or complicating our actions instead. According to him, the reason they are expressed outwardly is so that they can make something happen. (More on this another time.)

I also have thoughts on how she ended the book in the epilogue, by defining grace through the lens of endurance (something I've been thinking about lately, especially re: Flannery O'Connor's definition of grace being almost violent as something that changes you), but I'll leave that musing for another time. I've been thinking about my name a lot lately.

“Grace, in part, is about restraint, physical calm in the face of uncertainty...Grace, then, is also about endurance...With grace, the beauty and elegance in movement comes from a seeming effortlessness and ease. But we all know that nothing comes without hard work.”

I could also go on forever about muscle memory, and I loved the research Bonnie Tsui pulled into the ending of the book too about what's most effective in keeping our bodies engaged with our surroundings over time. Definitely relevant, applicable, and great to understand. When tackling something explanatory, she's very clear in a way that casual readers will appreciate.

Overall Thoughts
I enjoyed On Muscle a lot. Bonnie Tsui's style is familiar and likable to me: lots of curiosity and exploration filtered through her own personal synthesis. I find her writing poetic and her insights thoughtful. Personally and solely as a reader, I think her tackling strength training and the mind-body connection makes a lot of intellectual and philosophical sense. I highlighted plenty, and liked the read especially in how I consumed it: bite-sized sessions spread out over a period of days.

I'd recommend opting for Why We Swim first to see if you like her vibe because it does get abstract (and this one even more so), but if you love the former, you'll appreciate the latter too.

For fans of:
Labor of Love by Moira Weigel; Endure by Alex Hutchinson; Let's Get Physical by Danielle Friedman; Exercised by Daniel E. Lieberman; Novelist as Vocation by Haruki Murakami; Mind in Motion by Barbara Tversky; etc,.

The accompanying voice note is 16 minutes long, covering my shift in routine towards something more physical, weight on my shoulders (punny), meditations on being an "active person," the book itself, etc,. I'd recommend listening at 1.2 to 1.5x speed.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.

I really enjoyed this author's book on swimming (Why We Swim), so I was happy to see this come up in NetGalley. Similar to her other book, here she weaves memoir-style writing about her own sport practices and her family's relationship with muscle together with interesting scientific writing about muscle use, aging, and interviews with researchers and pro athletes. As a woman, she also writes about the intersection of being a woman in the world of weightlifting and sports in general.

If you are not into memoirs and are anticipating a hard science book, then this would maybe not be for you, but I loved it and would definitely read more from this author.

A thoughtful blend of memoir, athlete essays, and science writing. The book is well researched, and I especially appreciated the inclusion of references. While it leans more on anecdotal stories than in-depth scientific analysis, it offers a compelling and enjoyable read.

Thank you to NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

On Muscle is a compelling piece of nonfiction that talks all about the muscles and their story/how they work etc. While this book wasn't quite as emotionally gripping as Why We Swim, On Muscle brings to light an aspect of every day lives and how it works!

In "On Muscle", author Bonnie Tsui is to physical performance as Malcolm Gladwell is to psychology and Siddhartha Mukherjee is to physiology/medicine.

However, by these comparisons, this book falls short in its research grounding. I wish she went a bit deeper into the science. It's clear that she researches well-- this book took her all over the world to meet with academic and professional experts and her ability to weave narrative into real life studies and experiences is very strong.

I will say that while the author did weave a lot of approaches on muscle (hehe) into this, from micro to macro, from stem cells to martial arts, painting and Highland games-- sometimes the chapters felt a little disjointed. Regardless, all chapters were all well written, compelling and could stand alone for a quick read at any point.

Given the gamut of topics covered, while still being relatively brief, this would make a great book club pick.

Beautiful illustrations on the cover and within! Plus, any book with references/resources at the end is an automatic "need-to-own!"

On Muscle is a work looking at the role muscles play in not only our body, but in society and what they mean to us. Tsui uses an immersive narration style where she inserts anecdotes about her own childhood and the importance of muscle in it. I particularly enjoyed the way she uses her interviews and experiences with the experts she interacts with to paint a picture of muscles.

This style of immersive narration is one of my favorites since it helps me to connect better with the information presented and is overall a really good strategy to enjoy nonfiction novels. 4/5 stars.

Thank you to NetGalley for providing me with an ARC of this book. All opinions expressed are my own.

On Muscle explores the physical and emotional power of strength, blending memoir with cultural commentary. Tsui focuses on women's experiences with muscle, touching on how movement can be transformative—especially for people with disabilities, who often feel whole through movement even when society sees them as broken. While the book includes some science, it leans more anecdotal, offering personal stories over deep research.

If you're interested in the intersection of strength, identity, and resilience, this is a thought-provoking and engaging read.

Thanks to Algonquin Books for the advance review copy.

A fascinating and accessible exploration of muscles -we use them, how they're shaped, how we became obsessed with them.

I requested this book because I enjoyed WHY WE SWIM. On Muscle is associative and surprising, just as good nonfiction should be. The combination of the personal and the public, the scientific and the emotional, narrative and research, is highly engaging. It made me want to pick up my kettlebells.

First, thanks to NetGalley and Algonquin Books for the eARC of this book!!

I LOVED reading this one! I thought it was educational both on a high level of just understanding better how muscles allow our body to function and deeper with the ways in which they move us; it was also incredibly interesting to see how she tied it in with anthropology and the ways muscles and bodies are seen in differing cultures and people groups. I did competitive powerlifting for a big portion of my adolescence and the first part of the book, focusing on Jan Todd, was my favorite. Reading Jan's story was great! I'd read anything she's involved in hahaha! All of this was especially intriguing to me as an athlete and historian. 🤪

I'd recommend this read to really anyone with any interest in the human body--the literal physical version, the idealized version that varies based upon who and where you are on the globe, and how muscles impact our understanding of both bodies and the world around them. This will be a wonderful addition to any library!

This book combines approachable science, memoir and essay about one of the most important parts of the human body (the heart is a muscle after all). The author has been into fitness all her life and, in this volume, she explores what it means to “make a muscle”. There is a well-researched historical component, as well as the stories of many people who study or have made them part of their daily lives. How some have overcome adversity and disability to flourish (a yoga teacher in a wheelchair, for instance). It is well written and entertaining. It was just not so much what I was expecting. I wanted more science. These parts about human anatomy satisfied me, but there is so much more here. Readers who look for human stories and those who enjoy memoirs will probably love it. This was not my usual read, but it is definitely fascinating.
I chose to read this book and all opinions in this review are my own and completely unbiased. Thank you, NetGalley/Algonquin Books.

When I saw this author had published a new book, I was eager to read it because I had enjoyed reading "Why We Swim," published in 2020. Both books are excellent for amateur athletes and people who want to understand more about how our bodies operate.

Informative work of science writing - the reporting is particularly engaging. Complements Michael Joseph Gross related new book, Stronger: The Untold Story of Muscle in Our Lives.

This book is fascinating! Bonnie Tsui tackles the science and culture of muscle in a fresh, interdisciplinary way, mixing in biology, anthropology, history, and personal stories. The ability to cover topics like the history of muscle as a beauty ideal, the mental and physical impact of muscle health, and even the exploration of resilience and endurance gives the book a well-rounded appeal.