A radical new history of the Victorian age: meet the forgotten and extraordinary freak performers whose talents and disabilities helped define an era.
On 23 March, 1844, General Tom Thumb, at 25 inches tall, entered the Picture Gallery at Buckingham Palace and bowed low to Queen Victoria. On both sides of the Atlantic, this meeting marked a tipping point in the nineteenth century - the age of the freak was born.
Bewitching all levels of society, it was a world of astonishing spectacle - of dwarfs, giants, bearded ladies, Siamese twins and swaggering showmen - and one that has since inspired countless novels, films and musicals. But the real stories (human dramas that so often eclipsed the fantasy presented on the stage), of the performing men, women and children, have been forgotten or marginalized in the histories of the very people who exploited them.
In this richly evocative account, Dr John Woolf uses a wealth of recently discovered material to bring to life the sometimes tragic, sometimes triumphant, always extraordinary stories of people who used their (dis)abilities and difference to become some of the first international celebrities. And through their lives we discover afresh some of the great transformations of the age: the birth of showbusiness, of celebrity, of advertising, of 'alternative facts'; while also exploring the tensions between the power of fame, the impact of exploitation and our fascination with 'otherness'.
An overview of the history of the commercial and theatrical display of anomalous human bodies--bodies that are shorter, smaller, bigger, taller, fatter, thinner, hairier than others, bodies missing limbs or with extra limbs or unusual growths or shapes, conjoined twins, bodies that are ambiguously gendered or racialized, bodies that challenge norms or cross boundaries or depart from comfortable standards. For the most part, the history of so-called freak shows is troubling and sad, an example of the too-common human insistence on treating human difference as monstrosity or spectacle. But for some performers, the shows provided a rare opportunity to make money and support themselves and their families, and they offered also a community of difference, in which working and travelling and performing with others who also lived with difference offered support and acceptance and companionship often unavailable elsewhere.
Prior to reading this book, I had only a vague understanding of the history of the freak show and knew very few details about the individuals at the centre of it, showman and performer. As an able-bodied reader, this book made me uncomfortable in the sense that I was ashamed that I had had no idea of how deeply ingrained the exploitation and cruelty directed towards those with bodily differences were.
It is abundantly clear that this is a subject matter that Woolf is passionate about. The amount of detail he presents, in spite of little fact being actually known about the performers, is excellent and blatantly very hard to come by due to the murkiness of their biographies. Their voices were rarely heard, their stories told through pamphlets sold at their performances, often written by the showmen or the people that literally owned them. Fact and fiction became so blurred that so much of these individual's lives are lost, and the fact that most of them were unable to speak for themselves (Joice Heth and Maximo and Bartola for example). Just glimpsing at the sources and the bibliography in this book advocates for the fact that Woolf did all that he could to give these people their voices back, and that's what I appreciated the most in this book.
Woolf also presents the difficult, complex question of whether the Freak Show was entirely bad. Was it exploitative? Oh my God yes. Was it cruel? In many instances yes. Yet at the same time, it allowed some performers a sense of ownership. In some instances, it was all they could do to earn a living (John Merrick for example who, prior to joining a sideshow, was in a workhouse unable to find employment) and some earned enough money to live more than comfortably (Chang and Eng for most of their lives and Charles Stratton a.k.a Tom Thumb/The Little General). Woolf points out that while figures like Barnum were cruel in some instances such as in his treatment of Joice Heth's body after her death, he was also a firm friend to Stratton and they remained in contact long after parting ways professionally. Woolf offered a balanced viewpoint, showing the negative as well as the positive, and I feel that this is question we'll never be able to find the correct answer to.
Overall, this is an excellent history of the exploitation of those with disfigurements, deformities, and people of colour, as well as examination on the psychology behind its popularity and its fluctuating positions in society, from being supported by royalty to being regarded immoral and aimed at the lower classes. It is a perfect place to start if, like me, you only know the a little about the subject and I think it's a valuable piece that will make your heart heavy, enlighten you, and finally give a voice to those who have been without for so long.
Another niche little non fiction book that just hits the spot! Really interesting to learn about the people who were in freakshows and not just the people running them (looking at you Barnum). The author did a fantastic job being sympathetic and inclusive and by no means did he glorify the people that history has who are terrible people. Will be looking to see if this author brings out any more books and this was very engaging.
The Victorian age has a lot to answer for, and has had lasting repercussions on the way we still consume entertainment and look at the world, especially how we look at “others.” This book does a good job of examining that while always treating the subjects with respect.
As suspected when reading the author's bio on the dust jacket, this is a dissertation distilled into a pop history narrative. You can practically feel the writer's desire to have called this THE FREAKS, because he almost exclusively uses 'freak' and 'freakery' in his discussion of the subject. And yet - these words carry negative connotations (especially towards exploitation), to the point where the title of his book had to be changed? I wonder (heh).
This was not as good as I hoped it would be. It's a broad and shallow overview of the Victorian-era "freak" show and performers, though it reaches back into history (apparently all royal courts, straight back to antiquity, had dwarves, who knew??) and forward into the future, doing its best to tie the history of freakery into the disability rights movement of today. I wasn't wholly convinced by this argument, or some of the author's opinions about his subject matter. I didn't realize there was an argument to be made that PT Barnum wasn't as completely full of shit as he presented himself, but this writer tries his darndest. Somehow he finds that medicine and science exploited these "monstrosities of nature" more than the people making the actual $$$ off them, which I think is where he lost me.
I didn't find this narrative nearly as compelling as the author himself does, which was a disappointment. He has a special interest in those of short stature and sets of conjoined twins, so there isn't even a real broad swath of all those considered "freaks" in the 19th century represented here. A Cabinet of Medical Curiosities: A Compendium of the Odd, the Bizarre, and the Unexpected covers the same ground with a more interesting array of "curiosities" than can be found here. I didn't really enjoy that book more than this one, but at least it went into some depth about these people and their actual lives, as opposed to their place in entertainment history.
This wasn't quite what I was hoping it would be. The opening few chapters about dwarves in royal courts and such were interesting, and then leading into how people with physical difference often didn't have much of a choice but to display themselves. There are some interesting ethical questions too - such as yes these people were parading themselves and being poked my strangers but they were also making money, the sort of money they wouldn't be able to make elsewhere in life. I enjoyed the early sections that had a chapter per person, but then it sort of became a bit of a mini biography of a couple of performers and it wasn't as interesting. The final sections that talked about the increase in medical knowledge was interesting but overall the book was a bit blah and didn't hit the spot I hoped it would.
I remember when I was a teenager going to a so called "freak show" and seeing a bearded lady, fat woman, sword swallower and others. However when I saw a "wild man" who was in a cage. He lunged at me and scared me so much I had nightmares that night about him. This was around 1970 when a traveling circus came to town. I was haunted by the looks of this man and others who were on display. I couldn't believe my boyfriend and I paid to go into the show. We were both upset by what we saw. I thought it was wrong then, but as I read this book I saw that many of the performers in the early nineteenth century were in the shows to survive. It seems like some of the performers even liked it and made lots of money, but then others were treated terrible. I found the book fascinating and informative. However, I still can't forget the man I saw in the cage.
What fun! I've always had a bit of a thing for 'oddities' (I still remember the brilliant book I read a while back by Kathryn Hughes called 'Victorians Undone' about the hidden facts about the quirkiness of famous Victorians) and I thoroughly enjoyed this for the same reason. The book tackles taboo and the shifting acceptability of the world of the 'freak' in a way that answers enough creepy questions without being sordid itself. One of those nifty tales of the things that we used to think were commonplace but were really, really not.
I enjoy reading nonfiction because I learn something about a topic. In this case, I learned about the role of "oddities" in the Victorian era. The author traces the history of people born with unusual physical characteristics from the fairs of the 17th century to the time of Queen Victoria and how the exhibition of these people was considered entertainment. I had never thought I would be interested in this topic, but the author's engaging narrative style was information and interesting. A great choice if you want to learn about this topic.
The Wonders is wonderful! Exploring the lives of those who were considered "freaks" and what they went through is fascinating. What I find most intriguing about this book is the close look that it takes on the culture of the time. As the book moves through time, and the culture evolves, so does the thinking on what it means to be a freak and the parallels to the development of marketing and entertainment. There is a lot to digest in The Wonders, and it is worth the read!
Thank you to Netgalley for the opportunity to read and review this title. An easy to read tome on the history and sad tales that were part of the rise and fall of the freak show. The emphasis is on dwarfs and especially Colonel Tom Thumb but other famous and not so famous exhibits are accounted for. This is an unhappy but informative book.
An absolutely fascinating book, well-researched & superbly written. It’s been a real journey getting to the end, so harrowing, amazing & jaw-dropping were some of the performers stories, but one that left me with plenty of food for thought. I’ll definitely be looking out for more books by this author, he’s a talent to be reckoned with.
You find out that the circus people made more money in the circus and working on their own than with...lets call them independent contractors-who mercilessly exploited them.
It would be a dull world without differences. The stories told within this book speak of intelligent, kindly humans who by fate were born physically different. Most touching, poignant, and stark. Well written and very much done from the heart.
so this book was....fine. I just got to the point that I realized I was only interested in the lives of the performers and not the cultural/historical implications of the freak show. I think I'll save myself some time and find some good internet sources instead.
This books was obviously written by a historian. Great sources and nicely written. Really liked to get to know better the wonders and the sideshow performers.
Even-handed look at the evolution of freakshows. Well-researched, thorough, without becoming equally sensational or exploitive. This was an interesting, if unhappy, read.
An absolute triumph. I was riveted from beginning to end. A sensitive, comprehensive and thoughtful biography of the Victorian sideshow industry and its most storied performers.
The Wonders by John Woolf claims the Victorian age as ‘the age of freaks’ and charts the rise and decline of the freak show through a series of mini-biographies. While being careful not to lean into a sense of voyeurism, it is peculiarly neutral about the freak show, the people running them and the people being seen. While the introduction makes a point that there is a different between the ‘freak’ and the ‘freak performer’, the freak being a construction by the performer and show runner, the book hides from discussions of where the power lies. Also, while some people are highlighted, the lives and conditions of the majority of performers are not really touched on.
The book starts with Jeffrey Hudson, presumably because his story is too fun not to be retold (Read Lord Minimus by Nick Page) but also because it shows a man at the mercy of a court. The next person, Count Borolwaski takes his performance into his own hand, followed by the fat man, Daniel Lambert, who rents out houses and invited people to pay to have tea with him. These people perform without an established circuit. Chang and Eng are the next people highlighted, they start at the whim of an impresario but take their image and finances into their own hands, funding a lifestyle as respectable Southern US gentlemen and owning a number of slaves, though their finances are never quite so secure they can quit the stage completely.
Enter PT Barnum. His first foray into showing ‘oddities’ is probably his most reprehensible. Buying an elderly, possibly Alzheimer-stricken slave and showing her for eight hours at a time and essentially working her to death. He then had an autopsy for which he sold tickets, an act nearly as awful as Julia Pastrana’s keeper/husband who stuffed her corpse and continued touring that. However, it does seem PT Barnum grows up a little. His relationship with Charles Stratton, who performed under the name of Tom Thumb, was one which grew into a friendship, with Stratton giving Barnum the money to start up again when his museum burnt down. Stratton comes across as something of a minor genius in this book, able to perform songs and skits at the age of four and come up with killer improv at the age of six. He also seemed to enjoy performing, he could have retired at nine but continued the rest of his life. It must also be mentioned that PT Barnum’s American Museum was regarded as a place of safety for those with exploitable differences, with many making a healthy living and being able to retire. Also, that PT Barnum, whose treatment of Joyce Heth, the old woman was atrocious, became a leading advocate for the abolitionist movement.
Although not particularly discussed, the real difference between being exploited and taking an amount of control over an act seemed to depend on the nature of the difference of the performer. People like ‘The Aztec Twins’ whose microcephaly meant they had impaired cognitive development were completely in the hands of their impresarios (essentially their owners). They had no control over their public image, their schedule or their lives - with the two twins being made to marry each other. For those whose difference lay principally in their bodies, like Stratton or Chang and Eng, they could have greater say over their career, and the freak show could open doors to experiences and riches they could never have any other way.
The decline of the freak show is captured by the story of Joseph Merrick. Unlike those in the ‘golden age’ of freak shows, he did not meet royalty or become a wealthy celebrity. His deformities left him unable to work, spending much of his time in a workhouse before being shown in a travelling carnival - however, the prestigiousness and respectability of these had declined and he found himself stranded in Mainland Europe, so when he came back to England he gained special dispensation to live in a London Hospital. I’ve read the account of him by the doctor, Treves, in which his name is given wrongly as John. This is the same name he was given in the film The Elephant Man. Interestingly, his exhibitor also published an account of him where he states Joseph was happy to have the freedom to work and earn his own money and it was the imprisonment of his hospital life that lead him to the suicidal decision to sleep laying down.
This is a book which tells its individual stories well. It works as a very interesting compendium of little biographies of fascinating lives but it doesn’t really build much of a thesis out of it. Nor does it really examine the nitty-gritty of the power relationships, or the lives of the vast majority of anonymous freak performers.
I must admit, I found this a very uncomfortable read, and had to put it down for a while before coming back to finishing it. Maybe it's my fault for not paying enough attention to the blurb, but what I wanted was an insight into the freak show and the circus - how they ran, where they went, who the audiences were - but what this gave me was mostly an insight into the 'freaks' themselves.
There's a lot of detail here, about the lives of the people who were displayed (and in some cases, displayed themselves) to make a living. There's a lot of very uncomfortable truths embedded in their stories, about why they were forced to make a living in this way, and the suffering and indignity, to say the least, that went along with it. They were treated as different, as not human, or inhuman, in almost every case. They were seen by some Darwinists as evidence of the missing link, and by other fundamentalists as evidence that Darwin was wrong. They were poked and prodded by the public and by the medical establishment. In some totally horrific cases, their bodies were embalmed and displayed. They were married to keep them in fetters. Sometimes they were actually kept in fetters. You see now why it makes uncomfortable reading.
What the book shows, unequivocally, is who utterly vile and exploitative the process was. What it didn't show, or didn't showcase (haha, very poor attempt at humour) is the context in society. Victorian Age for me suggests a British context, but much of the 'action' took place elsewhere. There was a lot of travelling, but not much analysis of the audiences or the environment. The last couple of chapters put the whole thing in a bit of context, but before that, what was presented was an attempt (which showed a great deal of understanding, empathy and research) to represent the lives of the people themselves. Uncomfortable and it needed done, but it wasn't what I was looking for.
This may be a classic of me the reader, wanting one thing and the author striving for another. Mea Culpa in that case.
I read Leslie Fielder's book Freaks years ago (well, much of it). I recall going to a "Freak Show" as a kid. Something about the display, the labeling, and the wonder of the differently abled bodies has always been fascinating. What I saw were less natural phenomena and more 'made' freaks like 'fat' ladies, a man who could stretch his skin, one who put nails up his nose, ate glass, and so forth.
The Wonders puts much of that naive fascination about naturally physically different people into historical and cultural perspective. There were the early courts of kings where dwarves were owned and admired, even sexually tempting for court ladies. In traveling troupes, they were displayed and mythologized, which eventually led to the freak show that was institutionalized to great success by P.T. Barnum.
Queen Victoria had been a lover of dwarves and 'General 'Tom Thumb (Charles Sherwood Stratton) was her favorite. He, along with Barnum, practically invented modern celebrity. The story of the Siamese Twins Chang and Eng is remarkable. All the figures covered in the book are well researched and make for fascinating reading.
Toward the 20th Century, science, evolution, the liberation of class and gender, developments in automation and standardization, and sameness through photography and advertising caused regard for the differently abled to be seen less as mythical and fabulous and more as a genetic aberration. That was both civilizing, but it also stigmatized those with physical abnormalities. The freak show, carnies, and the circus were already beginning to be regarded as lower-class entertainment. The display of the mentally disabled and non-white races being displayed for amusement is troubling.
Woolf's book is even-handed and eminently readable. I plowed through it. The reader on Audible is also terrific.
The story of the Elephant Man means that we have become familiar with the idea of the Victorian Freak Show. With xx book explores the development of this, from the early days of the travelling fairs, to its end in the 20th century. This narrative centres the history on the lives of the most famous people who earned their living and celebrity through preforming to the public. This is not an exploitative lurid text. The main subjects are treated as people who had lives and families and relationships. Xxx links how these relates to the changes that were happening in society. The decline of the courts of the monarchy. The rise of the leisure industry and the invention of mass-media. Xxx draws attention to how well people like P. T. Barnum were able to exploit this. The book also brings up how people manipulated the idea of race for exploitation and profit and the changing attitudes of society to disability. Also the idea of the press release to present a false or preconceived image. There really is nothing new under the sun is there? This is a good social history of how society’s attitudes to people with disabilities changed along with the ideas of what entertainment is considered.
I chose this book from the library without thinking I had any great interest in the subject matter. Perhaps I was drawn by the cover or the title, but whatever the reason I was very pleased to find it. This is a fascinating read which illuminates the worlds of the sideshows. It concerns the players themselves, much less so the owners and managers, and gives an insight into their fantastic lives. Some stories are heart-breaking and engender anger while others make you admire these performers and how they advanced their lives in the face of adversity.
We may think the day of the freakshow has gone; at the end of the Victorian era the medical profession saved these unfortunate people from the public gaze of the sideshows. However, anyone flicking through the satellite of cable channels will realise that it exists healthily today with the multiple, medical and educational, television programs where we are still encouraged to look at the strange and abnormal ( "My 1000lb life" etc.). Perhaps the biggest change is that the audience, now immensly bigger, can remain anonymous while it gawps at the spectacle.
This history didn’t grab me at first. Maybe it’s my gut reaction to “freak shows” as an idea. Still, by about the latter third of this book, the author had captured my attention. It was true enough that in an age before anything resembling a social safety net other than workhouses, exhibiting oneself was often the only way for someone with a physical deformity to earn a living. It was self-respect and a grubstake all rolled into one.
I knew that the advancement of science played a role in the decline of freak shows since it demystified deformities. “No, that guy wasn’t a missing link or a member of a lost tribe of snake-men.” What surprised me was the role played by disgust and, I should’ve known, eugenics.
It was interesting to learn that the story I read long ago about John Merrick (actual first name Joseph) might not have been, strictly speaking, accurate. It was one side of the story presented by an influential doctor, which is why it became common currency.
An interesting if brief view into the origins, heyday, and decline of the freak show. The author says they'd like to tell the stories from the "freaks", or performers, perspectives, but so little firsthand accounts have been left behind it proves a bit hard. Any autobiographies written by the performers is met with the admission that they were most likely written to attract customers and aren't entirely true. It seems like the given the sources available, the author's intent was out of range from the beginning. And while the rise of the freak show was very detailed, having its origins in the court dwarfs in noble households, the fall wasn't described so well. I would have liked more stories of struggling performers and promoters in a post-WW1 and WW2 world. But still, it was an enjoyable read detailing the trials and travails of some of the more famous freak and sideshow performers and promoters.
The Wonders offers an inside look at the extraordinary human beings, also known as 'freaks' in carnival speak, and the public's fascination with them. From Tom Thumb the miniature man to Chang and Eng the siamese twins, there were very real people with thoughts and feelings of their own being displayed in museums all for profit. The most notable of profiteers is P. T. Barnum, whom we actually don't learn much about in this book. While I understand that this book is primarily about the Wonders of the Victorian age, giving a fuller context of Barnum (and eventually Bailey's) participation and motives might have helped to flesh out the book a bit more and actually improve the pacing. Instead, we're treated to a variety of chapters on these people that, while fascinating, tends to run a bit dry and lacks any entertainment, for lack of a better word.
For all its gusto, this book is nothing more than a list of facts about these extraordinary people.