Cobb's Anatomy

1. The Fat Man's Burden: A Life of Misery and Ridicule

Yes sir, no matter what Doctor Hutchinson says, I contend that the slim man has all the best of it in this world.

Challenging assumptions. The author humorously refutes the notion that fat people are happier, drawing on personal experience to argue that excessive fleshiness is a curse, not an asset. He contrasts his own struggles with the detached observations of a thin doctor, asserting his authority as a "qualified authority" on the subject of fat.

Early lessons. A childhood anecdote illustrates the early disadvantages of slimness, where a skinny friend vanished under a circus tent only to be violently ejected by a large man. However, this initial perception of slimness as a drawback quickly reversed as the author and his friends "fleshened up," realizing the true plight of the fat man.

Universal target. The fat man is portrayed as "humanity's standing joke," a figure of ridicule and an object of societal disdain. His very presence is seen as a "wave of discontent," and he is denied the softer emotions, expected to be neither romantic nor sentimental, much like a hippopotamus compared to a sentimental giraffe.

2. Society's Design Flaw: No Room for the Stout

When planning public utilities, who thinks of a fat man?

Unfitting world. The world, from clothing to public spaces, is designed for "stock-size people," leaving the fat man in a constant state of discomfort and embarrassment. His attempts to fit into a world not built for him are met with physical challenges and public scrutiny.

Everyday struggles:

• Dress suits shrink three sizes overnight.
• Crossing legs becomes an impossible feat.
• Hansom cabs require open doors for comfort.
• Orchestra seats cannot contain him.
• Pullman upper berths are a suicidal entanglement.

Public spectacle. Even in private moments, like undressing in a Pullman car, the fat man is a "distressful spectacle," overflowing his space and spouting like a "sperm-whale," highlighting the pervasive lack of accommodation and privacy.

3. The Futility of Fighting Fat: Dieting and Exercise as Torture

Starving in the midst of plenty is not for him who has plenty of midst.

Unsympathetic efforts. When a fat man attempts to reduce, he is met not with sympathy but with derision and gloating. Unlike a thin man trying to gain weight, his efforts are seen as a comical struggle rather than a serious endeavor.

Ineffective methods:

• Health exercises: Undignified, painful, and often impossible (e.g., touching toes with stiff knees).
• Dieting: "Contrary to nature," consisting of "not eating anything that's fit to eat," and often leading to other ailments.
• Horseback riding: Reduces the horse, not the rider, turning the fat man into a "burnt offering" on a "Gothic ruin of a horse."

Nature's intent. The author argues that nature intended fat men to eat heartily, endowing them with the "capacity and the accommodations." Dieting is an unnatural act, and the various attempts to reduce only lead to further suffering and humiliation, proving the futility of fighting one's natural inclination.

4. Teeth: A Lifelong Saga of Pain and Loss

If Shakespeare had only thought of it—and he did think of a number of things from time to time—he might have divided his Seven Ages of Man much better by making them the Seven Ages of Teeth...

Born toothless. The author posits that one of life's few pleasant features is being born without teeth, a state of blissful ignorance before the inevitable onset of dental woes. This initial absence gives way to a continuous cycle of pain, acquisition, and loss.

The seven ages of teeth:

• No tooth
• Milk teeth (painful "cutting")
• Losing 'em (falling out, yanked out)
• Getting more teeth (arduous process, wisdom teeth misnomer)
• Losing 'em (cavities, aches, dentist visits)
• Getting false teeth (ill-fitting, acclimation, mouth changes)
• Toothless again (face folds up, living on "spoon victuals")

A gunsmith's tale. A humorous anecdote of a gunsmith who, after years of toothlessness, gets dentures as a surprise. His altered appearance leads his wife to slam the door on him and his dog to bite him, with the only consolation being his newfound ability to "bite back."

5. The Dentist's Chair: A Modern-Day Inquisition

You are merely the scattered clews left behind for the authorities to work on; you are the faint traces of the fiendish crime.

The dreaded visit. The dentist's office is depicted as a place of dread, where "kind friends" push you towards an inevitable ordeal. The "sinewy young man" (dentist) welcomes you with false gaiety, his robust physique seeming more suited for a "boiler maker" than a dental practitioner.

Tools of torture. The patient is strapped into a "hideous embraces of a red plush chair," surrounded by "open plumbing" and "small steel tools of assorted sizes." The electric motor purrs "sinister and forbidding," providing a "crooning sound" that accompanies the canary's "melodious outburst," adding to the surreal horror.

The brutal process:

• Probing with "red hot stinger" crochet needles.
• Stirring imagination with "burr" instruments from the Spanish Inquisition.
• Harpooning nerves with nutpicks and beating brains out with tack hammers.
• Automatic hammering machines, like "steam riveters," for deep-sea pearl fishing in your mouth.
• The "thrilling sawmill scene" with circular saws and burning insulation, culminating in the inevitable pulling of the tooth, leaving a "vacant lot" in your jaw.

6. Hair: A Constant Battle Against Nature and Barbers

Hair rarely or never acts up to its advance notices.

Early disappointments. From birth, hair is a source of profound disappointment. Girls destined for curls get straight hair, while boys cursed with curls are labeled "Sissie." Desired colors never materialize, and cowlicks create "two or three halos at once."

Childhood trauma. The author recounts a traumatic childhood haircut where he, delighted with his own "shingled" head, convinced the barber to give his younger cousin the same treatment. The result was a "round, slick, smooth dome" for the cousin, leading to a scandalous scene of weeping mothers and aunts.

Lifelong bother. Hair continues to be a bother throughout life, from adolescent whiskers to eventual baldness. It's responsible for dandruff, wigs, "mental anguish," and the "standard joke about your wife's using your best razor to open a can of tomatoes with," proving its deep-dyed ingratitude.

7. The Barber's Tyranny: Ignoring Wishes for "Artistic" Vision

What cares he how I feel about it so long as the higher cravings of his own nature are satisfied?

The shaving ritual. Shaving, whether self-inflicted or by a barber, is a source of constant irritation. Barbers, like haberdashers, insist on selling numerous unwanted services, from shampoos to scalp massages, ignoring the client's simple request for a quick shave.

Frisbee's repartee. A friend named Frisbee cleverly deflects a barber's insistence on a haircut by suggesting the barber "cut the collar off" his coat instead of his "Roycrofty" long hair, highlighting the barber's persistent attempts to impose his will.

The powdering torment. The author's personal battle against being powdered after a shave is a recurring nightmare. Despite explicit instructions, the barber "insists on powdering me," often "surreptitiously," followed by 975 "fiendish, deliberate and premeditated" dabs with a towel, pushing reason to the brink of madness.

8. Hands: From Practicality to the Perils of Polished Nails

It is my belief that every woman longs for the novelty of a Turkish bath and every man for the novelty of a manicure long before either dares to tackle it.

Childhood utility. As a boy, hands are purely for "useful purposes," like climbing trees, stealing eggs, or manufacturing paper wads. Injuries are badges of honor, offering distinctiveness and excuses from chores, even becoming a source of profit by charging "china marbles a look."

Adult awkwardness. With age, hands become a social liability, "too many" at a church wedding and "not enough" at a five o'clock tea. The author describes the feeling of hands weighing "twenty-four pounds," wishing they were "sawed off at the wrists" rather than causing visible suffering.

The manicure initiation. The first manicure is a humiliating ordeal, requiring "courage of a very high order." The "calm and slightly arrogant looking young lady" sees through the novice's pretense, subjecting him to a painful process with numerous tools, orange wood "stobbers," and a final "conflagration" of polishing, leaving him with a temporary, fleeting glitter.

9. Feet: The Unsung Sufferers of the Human Body

Feet are certainly ungrateful things. I might say that they are proverbially ungrateful.

Constant affliction. Feet are presented as even more troublesome than hands, demanding constant care and attention from childhood stone bruises and chilblains to adult corns, callouses, and fallen insteps. They are "ungrateful things" that "do you" despite all you do for them.

Universal pain. Whether rich or poor, feet bring suffering:

• The rich limp with gout.
• The moderately well-to-do contend with ingrown nails.
• The poor man drops an "iron casting on his toe."

Regrettable choices. Many men suffer lifelong regret from wearing "pointed shoes that turn up at the ends, like sleigh runners" in their youth. The author concludes that nature likely intended humans to go barefoot, and our current foot ailments are nature's way of "getting even with us."

10. The Human Condition: A Comedy of Physical Afflictions

I don't care what Dr. Woods Hutchinson or any other thin man says! I contend that history is studded with instances of prominent persons who lost out because they got fat.

A life of physical woes. Cobb's "Anatomy" is a humorous, yet poignant, exploration of the human body as a source of endless trouble and social embarrassment. From the moment of birth, when we are "hairless or comparatively so," to the inevitable decline, our physical form dictates much of our suffering and how the world perceives us.

The body as a burden. Each chapter highlights a different part of the body—tummies, teeth, hair, hands, and feet—as a battleground against nature, society, and the well-meaning but often tyrannical professionals (dentists, barbers, manicurists) who claim to help. The author's personal anecdotes and exaggerated descriptions underscore the universal, often absurd, struggles of maintaining the human form.

Cobb's cynical wit. Through a blend of self-deprecating humor, vivid metaphors, and rhetorical questions, Cobb paints a picture of humanity as perpetually "up against it" due to its own physical composition. He challenges conventional wisdom, finding misery where others might see happiness, and exposing the underlying comedy in our relentless, often futile, attempts to conform or control our bodies.

Last updated: December 10, 2025