Sawing a woman in half—sounds gruesome, right? Well, it’s a classic in the mystical world of magic, and boy, does it pack a punch of history and controversy!
Now, some of you might be whispering, “Didn’t Torrini conjure up this trick in 1809 for Pope Pius VII?” Listen, folks, that’s more of a yarn spun by the illustrious Robert-Houdin than substantiated fact. The man knew how to play with ideas; I’ll give him that! Jim Steinmeyer, a modern sorcerer of sorts, even nodded to the likelihood of Torrini being a fanciful fragment of Houdin’s imagination. So, the origin? It’s more enigma than a solid tale.
The Advent of the Public Spectacle
Let’s get to when things got real—P.T. Selbit! January 17, 1921, marked the day when a woman, confined in a crate, had a saw running through her. Shocking? Oh, yes. Innovative? Absolutely! Selbit shook the realms of magic, pushing the genteel vibes of John Nevil Maskelyne to the shadows and ushering in a cascade of sensational illusions.
Now, Selbit's methodology wasn’t the flashy spectacle we’re used to. The assistant was a mystery, enclosed, unseen, and bound, her extremities grasped by the audience, ensuring her entrapment. It was crude, sure, but it laid down the foundation for the dazzling spectacles of today.
A Female in the Box?
So, you might be brooding, pondering over the “why” behind a woman in the box. Is it a relic of sexist perceptions or just a matter of practicality? In the golden Victorian era, women, draped in layers of fabric, couldn’t just slither into confined spaces; it wasn’t feasible! But with the roaring twenties, the dynamics shifted; lithe women could now be part of compact illusions, thus crafting more deceptive spectacles.
However, this isn’t just about practicalities. Selbit chose a woman, a choice that resonated in the post-war, emancipated era, sparking imaginations. It wasn’t just about a woman being sawed; it was a reflection of changing societal norms, of women in peril being a symbol, an entertainment flavor, if you will. The magic world was no longer cushioned in gentle vibes; it was daring, dramatic, and, dare I say, a tad controversial! Whatever the reasons, this trick drew huge crowds. Was it crowds of men tired of women asserting their rights?
The Debate: Sexism or Practicality?
The transformation of women’s roles in magic mirrored the metamorphosis of societal norms. The layers of fabric fell off, revealing the potentials of illusions. The clothes made them impractical assistants before, but now, their bodies became vessels of mesmerizing illusions. However, did it perpetuate the cliché of the distressed damsel? Absolutely!
Jim Steinmeyer points it out: Selbit’s illusion birthed a new era, an era where the image of a jeopardized woman was not just practical but also a sought-after trend in entertainment. It was raw, it was unsettling, and it struck chords in the heartstrings of a society emerging from the shadows of war. It became more than a trick—it was a reflection of a changing world.
A Severed Society: The Impacts of War, Feminism, and P.T. Selbit’s Revelations
The repercussions of World War I didn’t just alter the global landscape; it metamorphosed entertainment itself. It tinged every performance, from the eerie prosthetics of Lon Chaney Sr. to the blood-curdling scenes of the Grand Guignol theater in Paris, with shades darker than ever before. Yes, stage magic, too, was painted in these grim shades. After witnessing the demise of around 40 million souls, silk handkerchief tricks seemed naïve, child's play in a world jaded by the grotesqueries of war. The stage was set for the macabre, and Selbit was the conductor of this symphony of shadows.
P.T. Selbit wasn’t just any illusionist; he was a maestro, a weaver of illusions and spectacles, creating an image even before the trick began. Born Percy Thomas Tibbles, Selbit was initiated into the world of magic through secret viewings of a magician practicing in a basement during his apprenticeship with a silversmith. This early brush with magic was a clandestine affair, the lock-picking and stealthy watching, all painting a picture of a man who was mesmerized by the craft. By 19, Selbit was no stranger to the stage; he was crafting illusions and etching his name, or should I say, his reverse name, in the annals of magic.
Selbit was a mastermind of not just illusions but also promotion. When it came to his “Sawing Through a Woman” routine, he left no stone unturned. The streets were awash with fake blood, nurses populated the theatre’s lobby, and ambulances paraded the streets, all crafting an illusion of reality, of horror, before the act even began.
The Woman Behind the Illusion
The social panorama was shifting; women were stepping into the light, fighting for their rights. It was a turbulent, transformative period, marked by tireless campaigning by the suffragettes. And amidst this whirlwind of change emerged a figure, Christabel Pankhurst, a vociferous proponent of women’s rights. Her militancy, her unabated fervor made her the focal point of controversy, a symbol of the transforming societal fabric.
Selbit, ever the opportunist, saw in Christabel a chance to fuse the prevailing societal tensions with his act. He offered her a part in his performance, a role that would have draped his act in layers of political overtones. But Christabel didn’t bite; her terse refusal was a reflection of her clarity of purpose, her unflinching focus on her mission. Selbit’s endeavor to meld political turmoil with his illusion might have been a marketing stroke of genius, but it was one draped in disingenuity.
The Politics of Illusion
Dr. Naomi Paxton and several other historians echo this sentiment of disingenuity, highlighting the unmistakable political undertones in Selbit's act. The illusion of sawing a woman in half wasn’t just a spectacle; it was a reflection of the societal tumult, a grotesque embodiment of the restrained female body, reminiscent of the brutal force-feeding of the hunger-striking suffragettes. It wasn’t just an act; it was a macabre dance of societal anxieties, a manifestation of the changing dynamics between genders.
Joanna Ebenstein encapsulates this connection succinctly: the changing dynamics, the emerging power of women was mirrored in the act of publicly dismembering them. It was a revelry in the morbid, a gory celebration of the perceived peril engulfing the restrained female body.
Modern Takes & Evolution
The illusion has evolved, and modern conjurers, even female maestros like Dorothy Dietrich, have flipped the script—men are the ones being sawed now. Dorothy, blazing trails since her teenage years, earned her stripes as the “first woman to saw a man in half.” It’s a shift, a nod to changing perceptions and breaking stereotypes in magic.
A Century of Awe
Celebrated a century in January 2021, this illusion, with its slices of controversy and innovation, continues to evolve and mesmerize. It’s more than a person in a box; it’s a symbol, a mirror reflecting societal norms, perceptions, and transformations.
Let’s not just see it as a trick; let’s delve into its layers, explore its origins, its evolution, and its reflections. Let’s dissect the sawed box, not just to see the magic but to understand its deeper implications in a changing world.
I bet Selbit is up there, a ghostly grin adorning his face, witnessing the multiple facets of his creation. It’s not just about sawing a woman; it’s about exploring the unseen, the unspoken, and the unsaid in our magical realm.