Chapter 3

THE MEASURE OF MEANING

The interest that an audience takes in any routine will depend largely on its theme. The value of any theme depends in turn on its interest for a particular audience. If a majority of the people present want their fortunes told and have at least a half-hearted belief in astrology, Horoscope has a powerful theme. But if you try to present it before a group of professional astronomers, who resent the whole idea of astrology, it will fail completely.

Most tricks have the same theme: “The performer does something that seems impossible.” The nature of the impossibility is of secondary importance. What really counts is the lack of a rational explanation. This theme supplies interest but cannot make it rise very high, nor can such a theme sustain interest for more than a few minutes at most. No matter how breath-taking the climax may be, it comes at the end. Hence, it has no effect on the interest while the trick is going on. Furthermore, if any interest remains after the climax, it concerns only the. method used. The phenomenon itself is dismissed at once.

The situation in an illusion is entirely different. The theme involves freak-show secrets, telepathy, or astrology—some—thing that is interesting in its own right. This interest is aroused immediately and can be sustained indefinitely if properly handled. It does not depend on the climax, except that a weak climax would be disappointing.

The themes of plays present difficult problems. The best minds in the theater disagree about the significance of Hamlet. Fortunately for us, the themes of illusions all follow the same simple pattern. Routines, such as The Haunted Conjurer, which provide surprise endings usually have two themes, but both of these take the stock form.

Every conjuring theme has four elements:

Who is involved ? The personalities.

What is being exhibited ? The phenomenon.

Why is the routine performed ? The purpose.

How is the purpose achieved ? The proof.

Let us analyze a few examples:

Dial Information. Personalities: the performer, his friend the telepath, the spectator who chooses the coin, the one who talks on the telephone, those described by the telepath, the other spectators. Phenomenon: telepathy. Purpose: experiment to test telepath’s powers. Proof: telepath states value and date of coin, and describes two spectators.

The Strong Man’s Secret. Personalities: the performer, two helpers, the audience. Phenomenon: stunt used by strong men in freak shows to display extraordinary strength. Purpose: demonstration. Proof: helpers are unable to pull pieces of string apart although performer merely nips them between a thumb and two fingers.

The Haunted Conjurer. This has two themes: (I) Personalities: a second-rate conjurer, his audience. Phenomenon: ability to perform a conventional trick. Purpose: demonstration. Proof (never given): performance of trick. (2) Personalities: a voodoo obeah man who has cursed the conjurer, the conjurer himself, his audience. Phenomenon: effect of obeah man’s curse. Purpose: revenge. Proof: trick goes wrong in surprising but appropriate way.

As you read the illusions in this book, ask yourself: (1) who is involved, (2) what power is displayed, (3) why the display is made, and (4) how the power is proved. Do this for your own routines as well. Unless you are able to answer all four questions, you cannot hope to achieve the most interesting presentation.

THE PERSONALITIES

Robert-Houdin defined a conjurer as an actor playing the role of a magician. This supplies a valuable insight into the nature of conjuring, but it is too narrow. Although the conjurer must normally be an actor, he is by no means limited to the role of a magician. In “impromptu” work, he usually plays himself but pretends to possess some special ability, characteristic, or knowledge. Thus, in Horoscope, he poses as an astrologer. In Dial Information, he expresses his skepticism about the telepathic powers of his friend. In The Strong Man’s Secret, he is not even an actor. He not only appears as himself, but his claim is literally true. He offers to demonstrate a method of faking exceptional strength and does exactly that.

A stage performer has a much wider range of roles. He can play a magician or a mind reader. He can demonstrate amazing devices from the world of tomorrow. In The Haunted Conjurer, he even impersonates a conjurer. However, that conjurer’s personality differs sharply from the performer’s own, his ability is decidedly inferior, and he is under a voodoo curse.

Many illusions permit a choice of roles. Thus, you can pose as a strong man yourself and use the method of The Strong Man’s Secret to validate your claim. Again, in Dial Information, you can pretend to be psychic and transmit a message to your friend. Although these roles are less promising than those described with the routines, special circumstances may make them ideal. For example, if your muscles bulge and you already do a series of strong-man stunts, you may present the string demonstration as a feat of strength and not as a trick.

Such variations are important. Do not jump at the first role which suggests itself. Explore the possibilities and select the one that is best adapted to your own personality, your audience, and the conditions under which you perform.

Although the most important personality is the one portrayed by the conjurer himself, the others must not be overlooked. The obeah man in The Haunted Conjurer and any freak-show performers mentioned in The Strong Man’s Secret should be made to seem as real as good actors make offstage characters seem in a play. If you have assistants, they must also be given roles. Failure to do this explains why so many assistants are more of a distraction than an asset. Lastly, the roles of the spectators deserve consideration. In The Strong Man’s Secret, they are onlookers observing a supposedly serious demonstration. In The Haunted Conjurer, they form an audience which has gathered to watch an exhibition of conjuring, but which is lucky enough to see some genuine voodoo magic instead. In Horoscope, they are “sitters” listening to each other’s fortunes. Each of these roles calls for an entirely different attitude on the part of the audience.

THE PHENOMENON

Many routines also permit a choice of phenomena. The basic plan of Horoscope, for example, can be used for any phenomenon which depends on connecting each spectator with a particular object, date, or number. These include:

 

Graphology. Read characters from handwriting.

Doodleology. Read characters from doodles.

Psychometry. Read characters by touching small objects belonging to individuals. Objects are first hidden by being wrapped in coded sheets from your notebook.

Taste Profiles. Have spectators list their favorite colors, flowers, film stars, and so on. Pretend to base your analysis of each person’s character on his choices. Somewhat similar “profiles” are widely used in industrial psychology. Hence, this can be made to seem highly scientific and will impress people who would laugh at astrology.

 

These are only samples, but they demonstrate the folly of building your routine around the first phenomenon that occurs to you. Whenever you work out a routine, list every phenomenon that you can find. Try out the most promising ones on audiences and note which theme arouses the most interest. The result may surprise you. Any relationship between the illusions you like to present and those that your audiences like to watch is purely coincidental.

Remember also that audiences differ. The best theme on earth can fall flat if you use it on the wrong audience. The most successful play I ever staged bored two audiences so badly that they walked out before the third act. There was nothing wrong either with the performances or the audiences; they simply did not suit each other.

The fact that every basic routine offers a choice of themes permits you to adopt your presentation to your audience. If you use Horoscope before most adult audiences, you might switch to Taste Profiles for an audience of business and professional men who pride themselves on being hardheaded. For children, Doodleology would be a wiser selection.

THE PURPOSE

Except in cases like The Haunted Conjurer, which have two themes, the purpose is always the pretended purpose for presenting the routine. The performer’s real motive may be a desire to entertain or simply a wish to show off. This does not, or at least should not, affect the theme-purpose, which is invariably false.

Probably 95 per cent of all professional routines and 75 per cent of all routines are demonstrations. Most of the rest are experiments. Do not confuse the two. The man who gives a demonstration knows, or believes that he knows, exactly what the result will be. The experimenter is trying to learn what will happen. He may feel confident of the result, but cannot be sure until he tries the experiment. He may even turn out to be wrong. Thus, in Dial Information, you propose an experiment which you claim will prove the telepath to be a fake. Much to your “surprise,” he passes the test with flying colors.

Experiments are more entertaining than demonstrations. They give the spectators a sense of participation. They introduce an element of uncertainty, which is inherently dramatic. An experiment that fails may still be interesting; a demonstration that fails simply falls flat. Experiments are also more convincing. They permit much greater use of suggestion, and they weaken the idea that the performer is merely doing tricks.

Unfortunately, experiments are largely confined to “impromptu” work. The stage or floor-show performer is expected to know exactly what he is about and not to take up time with untried experiments. Furthermore, experiments normally require detailed explanations. These can be highly interesting when time permits, but the professional must make every second of his act count.

Mentalists usually combine demonstrations and experiments. They claim supernatural gifts but admit that these are not under control. The act as a whole demonstrates the powers of the performer. However, each individual “test” is an experiment; will the power work this time or will it fail?

Make sure that the audience knows whether you are offering a demonstration or conducting an experiment. You need not always use the actual words, but never leave any doubt as to your purpose.

Other purposes occur, but they are rare. This does not mean that we can afford to overlook them. On the contrary, their very rarity gives them a freshness that can be attained in no other way.

One purpose, which should be much more common, is that of putting magic to some practical use—such as providing you with a match and a cigarette. As this is the sort of thing that a real sorcerer would do, it helps to build atmosphere. The silent opening on p. 33 has already provided an example. Such applied magic can be used at any point in a routine.

Another, and somewhat more common, purpose is the lesson. Lessons in magic usually prove popular with both children and adults. Here is one example:

 

THE EXPANDING RABBIT

When a layman thinks of conjuring, he thinks of taking a rabbit out of a hat. Curiously enough, this illusion is rarely performed. It is sometimes imitated by taking silk handkerchiefs from the hat and then lifting a rabbit from the silks. However, you can spend a lifetime among conjurers without seeing anyone display an empty hat, pull out a rabbit, and then show the hat still empty. Our example does exactly that. The basic principle was suggested to me by Ed Mishell and the late Sabar.

After a boy has helped with a routine, thank him and declare that he appears to have talent for magic. All he needs is a few lessons. Would he like to learn how to take a rabbit out of an empty hat?

Hand him a high hat. Explain that the first step is to make sure that the hat is really empty. Let him look into the hat. Take the hat back and place it on your table. Confess that a magician cannot really pull a rabbit from a completely empty hat. You must first put the rabbit into the hat. The difficulty is to get the rabbit in without letting anyone see you do it. You accomplish this by using a very small rabbit—one small enough to hold in your hand without being detected.

Open your left hand and display a baby rabbit. As you do this, take the hat from the table with your right hand.

THE EXPANDING RABBIT

The baby is made of rabbit’s fur stufed with sponge rubber. The pull goes up your sleeve. Get the baby in your hand before you start the routine. Let it fly up your sleeve when you put your hand into the hat.

1. The rabbit wears a harness like that in Fig. 19. This is made of rabbit fur and partly concealed by a large bow.

2. When the hat is pulled back, it hits the catch (C) and pushes this clear of the table to let the gate drop. The wire (A) in the hat brim then engages the upper loop (B). Turning the hat over pulls the tape free. The cord now lifts the rabbit and drops it into the hat (Fig. 25).

3. By bringing the hat farther back, you disengage the cord from the brad in the edge of the table. As the cord can be seen only when the rabbit is lifted from the hat, it will be least visible if you dye it the same color as the bow.

“Now, then,” you say, “I hold the little rabbit so that it is completely hidden and put it into the hat.” Do so and add, “Here’s where the magic comes in. I pronounce the ancient Egyptian name of power, ‘Ulapaga Karkhenmu Mamuremukahabu!’ The rabbit grows, and grows, and grows—and behold!” Lift the rabbit from the hat and hand the hat to the boy. Never hold a rabbit by the ears; they are delicate and tender. Put your hand under his body.

When you use livestock always treat each animal as a cherished pet. Even if you are not guided by humanitarian motives, this is good showmanship. A large percentage of your audience is made up of animal lovers. They enjoy seeing animals petted and bitterly resent even a suggestion that they are not handled gently. Consideration for your livestock may slow up your act and decrease its flash, but kindness to animals has its own sentimental appeal. Also, no one will rehire you for roughness, but many spectators will condemn you for it and will refuse to recommend you even though they were delighted with the rest of your act.

Figs. 21 and 22 explain the baby rabbit, and Figs. 23-25 show how the live rabbit gets into the hat. If you like this routine, I recommend beginning with some version which omits both the toy rabbit and the boy. Simply take a real rabbit from the hat. That will let you use both hands for loading the rabbit into the hat. When you can accomplish this smoothly, you will be ready to attempt the one-hand manipulation required by The Expanding Rabbit.

 

A few illusions may be represented as contests. This adds a sporting element which has a strong appeal for most audiences, even though they feel sure that the performer will win. Here is a quickie that you can use to squelch some boy who shows signs of becoming a nuisance:

 

THE BEST BET

Get the boy up on the stage and say, “My next demonstration requires a rope with three knots in it. Can you tie a knot?” When he says, “Sure,” give him a rope and let him prove it. Have him tie a second knot.

Display another rope and ask, “Are you a sport?” He will almost certainly claim to be one. Offer to bet that you can tie three knots in your rope before he can put one more knot in his. If he wins, you will teach him how to pull a rabbit out of a hat. If you win, he must keep quiet for the rest of the show.

The boy will take some time to tie his knot. You tie three knots by simply tossing one end of the rope away from you. Figs. 26-28 explain the method. Face the audience and remark, “Useful thing, magic.”

THE PROOF

The effect of your illusion should be proof or at least strong evidence that the power you claim is genuine. Conjurers often claim powers that they cannot prove. For example, a glance through any dealer’s catalogue will reveal a number of divination tricks. The performer announces that he can read minds or perceive hidden objects. To justify this, he displays a set of special dinguses which have obviously been turned out by a manufacturer of conjuring apparatus, and which look like nothing else on earth. A spectator selects one. They are hidden in some way. The performer then triumphantly names the one selected. This is supposed to be proof that he is psychic. Actually, the audience regards it merely as proof that he has bought a trick from a dealer.

THE BEST BET

As you gather the rope into your hands, casually make three loops like the one shown. Take End A in your right hand. Drop the rest. Three knots will form.

The popularity of such tricks with performers suggests that the idea behind them may be fundamentally sound. Let us see what we can do with one.

Our illusion will certainly be more convincing if we confine ourselves to commonplace objects. Ordinary lead pencils will do if they are just alike except for the colors of the enamel. You can buy hexagonal pencils enameled in red, yellow, brown, green, and blue. They may or may not have erasers, and they need not all be the same length. However, they should all be sharpened in the same sharpener to make their points identical. Hold your hands behind your back. Have a spectator choose a pencil and let you feel the enamel near the point. You then name the color.

The second weakness in commercial divination tricks is that the performer claims to have general extrasensory perception but is able to demonstrate it only in one specialized case. His claim is too broad for his proof. The illusion will be much stronger if we conserve by weakening the claim until it matches the proof. You can do this in the present example by dropping any claim to psychic powers but insisting that you can recognize color by touch.

We are now ready to work these ideas into a routine.

 

CHROMAVO YANCE

Have your lead pencils ready in your home or office. If you carry a set of pencils in your pocket, you will arouse suspicion. Begin by remarking that the eye is not the only organ of light; the whole skin is light-sensitive as well. This will start an argument. Defend your position by pointing out that the skin can feel heat radiation, which is nothing but infra-red light. As this is undoubtedly true, it creates a suspension of disbelief.

Say, “You can do it with other colors, too. Didn’t you ever touch something and know that it was red or yellow?” Show surprise when the spectators admit that they have never felt a color.

Speak half to yourself as though you were trying to find an explanation for this strange lack of ability in your friends. “Of course, it doesn’t work in the dark. You can’t feel color without light any more than you can see it without light. And when there is light, you know what color a thing is before you touch it. If you don’t use a sense, it grows weaker. Besides, you can’t get much of a color sensation except from shiny objects, and most objects are dull.”

It now occurs to you that you may prove your point by letting your friends feel the colors of some shiny objects. What is handiest? Oh yes, pencils. You “manage” to find four or five.

“Anyone,” you declare, “can tell red from blue. Red gives a much stronger sensation because it is closer to infra-red in the spectrum.”

Have someone shut his eyes and try the test. When he fails, let the others experiment in turn. If you do this seriously, you will have your audience torn between the idea that you are indulging in an elaborate joke and the belief that they could distinguish color by feel if their sense of touch were not deficient.

While you are “experimenting” on the audience, someone will probably challenge you to give a demonstration yourself. If no one does challenge you, offer to prove your color-sensing ability. Turn your back. Put your hands behind you. Have someone let you feel a pencil near the point. If it is red, announce it quickly. If it is blue, say, “I don’t get any sensation at all from this. Did you sneak in a black pencil on me? No? Then it must be blue or purple.”

The secret is simple. Pencils with water-soluble colored “leads” are available at art stores in almost every conceivable hue. Get those with “leads” that match the enamels on your lead pencils. Wet the colored “leads” and rub some of the color off on the sides of the corresponding lead pencil near the point. When you make your test, moisten a finger slightly, rub it on the chosen pencil, and bring that hand where you can see it while you continue to feel the pencil with the other hand. As soon as you see the stain on your finger, you are prepared to announce the color of the pencil.

 

This is a splendid example of how the magic of drama can turn a weak two-minute trick into ten minutes or more of absorbing entertainment and leave half your audience convinced that you really do have a sense of color touch. It does require some acting ability, but so does every kind of drama.

Although weak claims are best when the proof is weak, you should always look for stronger proof—even though it means inventing a new effect and a new device. Routines like Chromavoyance fall into the same general class as telepathy and clairvoyance. If you like this sort of thing, say to yourself, “Suppose I really had clairvoyant power. What is the strongest proof I could offer?” A reasonable answer would be, “Have a spectator make a drawing. If I reproduce that without seeing it, no one can ask for more conclusive evidence.” Is this an impossible requirement? By no means. Here is one way to meet it:

 

MENTAL TELEVISION

Announce that you are about to perform an experiment in mental television. Hand someone a ball-point pen, a sheet of paper, and a paperback book to serve as a drawing board. Tell him that he is to sketch a simple diagram or picture. You will then endeavour to reproduce it.

Explain that this is done by clairvoyance, not by telepathy. You cannot read his mind; you visualize the actual drawing itself. He must, therefore, restrict it to a few lines in order to keep your vision from becoming confused. Also, he must make the lines good and strong. Otherwise, you will have difficulty. Your vision is dim at best. You can liken it only to a television picture that is slightly out of focus and covered with “snow.”

As soon as he has completed his drawing, tell him to fold it and put it into his pocket. Take the pen and book from him and place another sheet of paper on the book. Concentrate intensely and reproduce his drawing on your sheet of paper. Hand your drawing to a second spectator. Then tell the first one to open the original and give it to the person holding yours. After this person has compared the two, instruct him to pass them around so that everyone can see how closely they resemble each other.

MENTAL TELEVISION

When anyone makes firm lines with a ball-point pen on a piece of paper placed over a paperback book with a shiny cover, the design is impressed on the cover. This can be seen only while the book is held at exactly the correct angle to the light. Before performing at home, experiment with your lights so that you can quickly tilt the book at the correct angle and take in the sketch with one glance. When working away from home, begin by placing a piece of paper on the back cover of the book and making a few notes. Hold the book at different angles until you can read your notes. Do this before you even mention clairvoyance. Otherwise, you may discover that the lighting arrangements are impossible or that you have picked up an unsuitable book. Have the spectator use the front cover as his drawing board.

In making your own drawing, never copy exactly. If you do, someone may suspect that you have a secret source of information. Here is another case where conservation pays; reproduce the general outline, but interpret it differently. Thus, the crude drawing of a girl in Fig. 29 may be copied as an even cruder sketch of a tree (Fig. 30). This type of copy often crops up during serious experiments in clairvoyance. It therefore makes a strong impression on anyone familiar with the literature on the subject.

 

Mental routines like this can provide “proof” which comes close to being ideal. In most other types of illusions, however, the proof is normally less than perfect. After you have found the best available proof, ask yourself whether it is adequate to convince the average spectator temporarily. If it fails to reach this level, weaken your claim or abandon the routine.

Although you should always look for ways to prove the strongest possible claim, this does not mean that a strong claim is necessarily better than a weak one. Chromavoyance may well be more entertaining than Mental Television. Its fresh theme makes it especially interesting and keeps spectators from automatically classifying it as a conventional mind-reading trick. Moreover, it permits a presentation which gives the impression of being reasonable and as nearly scientific as circumstances permit. Mental Television might seem suspect even if it were genuine; Chromavoyance looks genuine even though it is actually faked.

TREATMENT

Some themes permit only one treatment. The Haunted Conjurer requires a light touch. Both Chromavoyance and Mental Television, on the other hand, will fall flat if they are not presented with the utmost seriousness.

Other illusions offer a wide range of treatments. Horoscope can be presented in deadly earnest; the conjurer poses as a fanatic whose mission in life is to convince the world that astrology is a valid and exact science. At the opposite extreme, he may pretend to make fun of the whole thing by introducing a cheap, paperback book on astrology and jesting about “all those heavenly rams, bulls, and virgins.” He then goes into a burlesque of the routine on p. 25, pretending to take his character readings from the book. However, the spectators soon notice that although his readings may be funny, they are also remarkably accurate. Given the right audience and a skilful presentation, this can create an even stronger impression than a serious treatment would make.

Treatment applies to both the theme and the presentation. Thev are usually handled alike, but you may treat the theme seriously and the presentation lightly or vice versa without seeming to contradict yourself. In Horoscope, for example, you might pretend to be on such intimate terms with astrology that you can afford to joke about it. Introduce the subject in all earnestness and then make your readings amusing by giving them a comic twist. Conversely, you can joke about astrology and then say, “But the really funny thing is that the darn thing works. I’ll show you.” Then proceed to offer serious readings.

The treatment of a routine deserves all the thought you can give it. A well-chosen treatment may turn a silly trick into a near miracle.

The conjurer who appears before audiences of different types should vary his treatment to suit each audience. When he presents a routine for his fellow conjurers, he can offer it simply as a puzzle. When he entertains children, a fantastic treatment will be appropriate. When he performs for adults, he may adopt a serious attitude.