Cabinets of Curiosities

The world would be a far less colorful place without people like Paul Collins and Ricky Jay. In these two recent books, both Collins and Jay delve into the obscure corners of history and emerge with the stories of some of the most remarkable, eccentric, and outright amazing individuals that ever lived.

Banvard’s Folly is a lovingly-researched tribute to the forgotten, the mistaken, and the discredited. The book profiles 13 historical figures, many of whom were among the most well-known figures of their day. Each, however, pursued his or her genius to a historical dead end, and their reputations and achievements have long since vanished into obscurity. Although each of these profiles is ultimately a study in failure, these ill-fated individuals demonstrate a brilliance, eccentricity, or audacity that is often breathtaking. Collins’ subjects may be failures, but they are spectacular failures—visionaries and dreamers who failed with an astounding degree of ambition, style, and verve.

Banvard’s Folly
Paul Collins
Picador USA

These short biographies make for compelling reading, and Collins has a knack for digesting and presenting a great deal of biographical and historical information in a manner that reads like a short story. There are several portraits of once-lauded geniuses now consigned to oblivion, including a fascinating biography of the American painter John Banvard, whose moving panoramas of the Mississippi River earned him a vast fortune and international acclaim in the 1850s. Banvard, unfortunately, met his match in showman P. T. Barnum, who ultimately helped drive Banvard into ruin. There is also a remarkable portrait of A. E. Beach, who in 1870 had the audacity to construct—without permits—an underground pneumatic train line running beneath New York’s City Hall—a project that foundered when confronted with the corrupt administration of New York City Mayor Boss Tweed.

There are several other vastly enjoyable chapters, including a fascinating account of William Henry Ireland, whose forgery of Shakespeariana in the 1790s caused a national uproar. Collins’ account of René Blondlot is equally engrossing. Blondlot’s 1903 discovery of N-Rays gained the attention of the worldwide scientific community, and scientists around the world verified and expanded on Blondlot’s theories. If you’ve never heard of N-rays, you might want to consult Collins’ book for an explanation—it’s not what you might expect.

Banvard’s Folly is great fun and is easily one of the most fascinating books I’ve read in the last year. The same is true of Ricky Jay’s most recent book, Jay’s Journal of Anomalies, which reproduces the first 16 issues of the eponymous fine press illustrated quarterly that Jay wrote and co-published from 1994–2000.

In addition to enjoying a reputation as one of the world’s great sleight-of-hand artists, Jay has established himself as an authority on the history of magic and unusual entertainments. The fruits of his research are harvested in this beautifully presented book, which offers definitive accounts of some of history’s strangest entertainments. These pages are populated by ceiling walkers and levitators, flea circuses and professional fasters, automaton chess players and speaking machines. Jay’s chapters on (apparent) nose amputations and theatrical crucifixions reach a new pinnacle of strengeness and offer incontrovertible evidence that, while truth may not always be stranger than fiction, it often gives fiction a run for its money. Jay’s wry take on the trials faced by professional fasters makes this chapter unexpectedly hilarious, as is his account of the many perils facing the 18th century gentleman in that pernicious den of iniquity—the bowling alley. One of the book’s most fascinating chapters recounts the extraordinary career of Wolfgang Kempelen, whose ingenious speaking machine led indirectly to Alexander Graham Bell’s invention of the telephone.

Jay’s Journal of Anomalies
Ricky Jay
Farrar, Straus and Giroux

Like Jay’s previous book, Learned Pigs & Fireproof Women, Jay’s Journal is exhaustively researched and profusely illustrated with contemporary broadsides and lithographs. Although its documentation is scrupulous enough to satisfy any academic, the whole affair is enlivened by Jay’s eccentric and often understated sense of humor. Even more importantly, the book is infused with Jay’s enthusiasm for the obscure entertainments and performers he unearths. As he states in the conclusion, he really does love this stuff, and his excitement proves contagious.

The price of admission is a bit steep, but the show is well worth it. This is one of the most beautifully designed and lavishly produced books I’ve seen lately: two-color printing is used throughout, along with abundant full-color illustrations, all printed on high-quality heavy paper. For those with an interest in unusual performers, the history of show business, or a general curiosity about the bizarre, it’s well worth the price.

Published in Louisville Eccentric Observer