On Contortionists, Clowns and Contrivance

It was dagger to sword, toe to face, and (my) heart rate through the roof on our visit to the circus.

“You don’t have to do this,” Jeff mutters under his breath.

“Please, just stop,” I squeal as quietly as I can.

We are at the circus, and everyone is doing such improbable feats with their bodies that I’m just worried someone is going to hurt themselves.

One woman puts the handle of a dagger in her mouth and tilts her head back so the sharp end is pointing straight up. Then she somehow(????) balances the tip of a sword on the tip of the dagger. I can’t even explain it, but I was very worried she was going take a sword to the eye. Here’s a photo from the circus’ Instagram page:

elcircoencantado

A post shared by El Circo Encantado (@elcircoencantado)

The aerial stunts always freak me out too, of course. It’s always, like, a woman hanging from her ankle, while also doing the splits and spinning at a million miles per hour. And then she does a planned freefall where her silk rope things catch her and my heart stops. Her makeup stays perfect the whole time.

And then there was a contortionist, who for some reason was dressed as a devil.¹ She was set up on this table, which had four tiny poles sticking up out of it, each pole topped by a little handhold thing. They looked like mini golf clubs, actually. Not the sort of thing you would want to, say, do a one-handed handstand on, and then do the splits upside down, you know? But that’s what she decided to do.

“That’s enough!” I whisper frantically. “Please!!! Get down from there!!!!!!” I can’t stop imagining her falling and smashing all her teeth.

Eventually, she did (get down, not smash her teeth). Bravo. Or, as they say in Spain, “Bravo.”

---

The circus is a magical place. As Jeff put it, “I feel like I always enjoy live entertainment more than I expect to.”

The reasons people are drawn to the circus are obvious, of course. It’s a chance to watch the human body do incredible things, to witness feats of strength and flexibility, bravery and speed. I guess it’s a little bit like watching the Olympics.

When I want to be good at something, even just a little bit, it puts this edge onto my ability to enjoy other people being good at that thing.²

I want to be a writer, so sometimes when I’m reading a book, I can’t help but think, “This person is so GOOD at writing. And you know what that means: I am BAD at writing and will never be successful.” It’s a very rational and cool attitude! When someone is good at Spanish, I’m aware of all the ways in which I am not. When someone is good at running, I feel extra self-conscious of my slower days. You know: you see a hot person and you think, “Ugh, I should go to the gym.” You see someone else quit the same bad habit you're trying to kick and you feel part inspired, part more hopeless that before.

The Olympics don’t do that too much, because those people are so elite that I can understand it a little better. Even if I want to make a joke like, “Wowwww, I had pizza for breakfast and this man just swam 72 laps in 14 seconds,” I know that that’s fair. That guy has probably been swimming since before he’d developed object permanence, and I bet he never gets to eat pizza for breakfast. He’s made sacrifices I’m just not interested in making, so I know it’s not a fair comparison.

The circus is even better when it comes to enjoying impressive feats without resorting to comparison. Because you are watching people do such an outstanding job at the most incredible, niche skills.

There’s one man bouncing, like, 15 balls at a time. It looks sort of like juggling, except he’s throwing the balls to the ground and they’re bouncing back up into his hands while he dances and spins around. And he keeps adding more.

Or, there’s two people roller skating and doing this crazy thing where he picks her up and spins her around very fast, upside down. Her back is arched into another dimension and her head keeps almost smashing on the ground. They’re so fit, and you’re in awe, but you’re not necessarily sitting there thinking, “Oh, to be spun around by my ankles by a man on rollerskates.”

elcircoencantado

A post shared by El Circo Encantado (@elcircoencantado)

You can just enjoy it, and maybe worry about their safety a little bit, and that’s it.

In a world where the internet can make it seem like everyone besides you has the perfect life/fitness routine/family/job/house/hair/talent/hair/whatever, comparing yourself to others can feel inescapable.

They say comparison is the thief of joy, and maybe the circus, in some weird way, is the thief of comparison. I know, I know, I’m trying to infuse an evening watching clowns and contortionists with a perhaps contrived sense of poetry. But I think a little poetry, even second-rate poetry, makes life more interesting, and sometimes even more bearable.

Throw in clowns making jokes about IKEA, children screaming with laughter, and a large bucket of popcorn, and a night at the circus was just what we needed.

---

• Question of the Week: What are three words you would use to describe your personal sense of style, and three words to describe a style you admire? Are they different?

• Recommendation of the Week: Speaking of comparison being the thief of joy, and social media and all that, I am weirdly into the “InstagramReality” Subreddit. It posts pictures of bodies and faces that are way overly edited, usually to the point of being humorous. But it’s also a good reminder that for every very obviously edited photo there is to make someone look better than in real life, there are probably a gazillion edited photos that you don’t realize are edited. So, it’s not that everyone is hotter than you. It’s that they are liars (just kidding, you get the idea.)

Thanks for reading!

1. There might have been a totally sensible reason she was dressed as the devil. The circus had a plot, but it was, of course, in Spanish, so I didn’t understand everything. From what I gather, there was a witch who seemed evil, but was not; two friendly clowns and their daughter who arrived at the witch’s mansion during a rainstorm (Rocky Horror style), a romance between the dagger lady and a hunchback, and a giant lizard (person in a lizard costume). Because Spain, in my experience, is more or less lawless when it comes to things like copyright, there were also knock-off versions of the Phantom of the Opera, the Joker and Harley Quinn, Beetlejuice, and arguably the creepy little girls from The Shining.

2. I have come a long way from when I was a kid, though. The other day I witnessed one of my middle school students in a heaving fit of sobs because he’d been losing at whatever game his class was playing in P.E. It reminded me of when I was a kid and hated bowling because if I didn’t win, I was miserable. I got all sweaty and nervous every time someone invited me to a bowling birthday party. Now I bowl badly with almost no shame!