Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Now meaning coarse, violent, and crude, the word "brute" derives originally from a word that simply meant heavy. True that. Brutes are big, thick, powerful, tough, and rough. They are not finely honed in gyms. Their muscle is gargantuan, not ripped, not shredded, not "chiseled." They are, by no stretch of the imagination, ever svelte. Though defined by brawn and a certain degree of loutishness, they are not necessarily dumb--still, a true brute needs a high IQ the way a frog needs Brylcreem. There's not a problem they can't solve by smashing things up. Some are heroic, some villainous. Brutes can dress like Alley Oop or like a lumberjack, but you won't catch them wearing rugby shirts and Dockers.
There's a special place in my heart for brutes. I have known a few. Affable giants 90% of the time, they are easily riled and extremely damaging to property and limb when agitated. In wrestling, brutes are why we have arm bars, body slams, and bear hugs. Sure, smaller wrestlers can perform these maneuvers, but it is the brutes who sell them with the epic swagger and verve they deserve. And nobody delivers a solider punch to the gut or boot to the jaw than a brute. Brutes are not high flyers, but this is not to say they lack agility or speed. They are blunt like clubs, not elegant like long bows.
Mrs Id captured these images of several breathtaking brutes at a Maximum Pro Wrestling show late last spring in Ontario. These are men, not boys, not even "guys," and their impressiveness defies conventional notions of beauty. But beautiful they are--gorgeous and astonishing as Alps.