Customer Reviews

Banvard's Folly: Tales of Renowned Obscurity, Famous Anonymity, and Rotten Luck

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When McSweeney's magazine first ran Paul Collins' work, they printed a sort of reverse disclaimer, saying something like "Paul Collins does not lie. Paul Collins teaches at a Christian college." I thought of this constantly while reading this book, because it veers in and out of (sur)reality. But, although it reads like fiction, it's all apparently true. If I had my way, there would be twice as many illustrations (A couple of the subjects aren't even pictured. Maybe something can be scared up for the paperback). The photograph of Rene Blondlot is too hilarious to be believed. Also, I think some of these characters merit their own books, especially Banvard, Psalmanazzar, and the subway man.

The author brilliantly captures the misery of those who tried, succeeded and then stumbled into oblivion.

Bulls epitaph "HE SOWED,OTHERS REAPED" sums up most of the stories, although greed, a flare for the untruth, and insouciance played a leading role in many of the cases. The ultimate failures of these people is treated with good humor but also with respect and to some of us, it gets a bit too close to home for comfort.

An extraordinary and facinating collection of tales. Beautifully written and obviously researched in great depth.

We pay plenty of attention to winners in history, but there have to be even more losers out there. Losers who may have been clever, may have been original, may have dreamed the big, impossible dream, and worked hard on their paths to fame and riches, but because of mere fortune, or cupidity, or bad choices, found the path did not lead to success. Failure just is not interesting, or at least most failures are not. But some are, and Paul Collins tells about some amazing ones in _Banvards Folly: Thirteen Tales of Renowned Obscurity, Famous Anonymity, and Rotten Luck_ (Picador). Collins has done good research to bring us these funny true stories and has a dry, sharp style that is a delight.

The title tale is about John Banvard, who in the 1850s was the most famous living painter in the world, and possibly the first millionaire artist in history. Why havent you heard of him before now? Because time swallowed him up. Banvard sailed down the Mississippi and sketched all he saw on the 3,000 mile voyage. He then painted what he had sketched, producing the biggest picture ever, said to be three miles long. The panorama was rolled up, and he displayed it on stage as it rolled by, while he gave narration and was accompanied by piano waltzes he had commissioned. His performance pieces were slow at first, but became a sensation, as he played Boston, New York, and then London, where he impressed the royal family and Charles Dickens. Banvard spent time in London museums, being taught to read hieroglyphics; he then sailed down the Nile to make another panoramic painting. He was troubled with those sincerest flatterers, imitators; he had made a huge fortune, but his invention was so popular that scores of other panoramas were on tour. He decided to set up, instead, as a museum keeper, his huge display of curios in a massive New York building, described as the best museum in Manhattan. In this, he was in competition against P. T. Barnum, who was by far the most capable promoter, and Banvard returned to the frontier where he was once again a poor and unknown painter. A few panels of his many paintings are all that remain of his work.

Here you will find the astonishing story of Englishman William Henry Ireland, born in 1775, who because his father never thought much of his writing, started forging plays by Shakespeare, and created a literary sensation. We read also the sad story of Delia Bacon, who was one of the first lunatics to write profusely on the theory that Shakespeare was not Shakespeare, but was a front for a collaborative effort by Walter Raleigh, Edmund Spenser, and Francis Bacon. A lighter note is the story of Robert Romeo Coates, whose beyond-hammy acting brought down the house, when his Romeo died not once but three times. There is a chapter on Blondlots N-rays, probably the most famous incident described in the book, an incident of scientific self-delusion. There is one on John Cleves Symmes, an Ohioan who did everything he could to convince his countrymen about the holes at the poles of the Earth which would lead to its hollow core. Theres one on A.J. Pleasanton, who shined blue light on everything imaginable and improved it.

And more. Collins has done an amazing amount of research into long-lost books and pamphlets to bring us these astonishing instructive stories and amazing cautionary tales, the sorts of tales that the proverb Truth is stranger than fiction was coined for. He has wry comments within his storytelling which makes reading his words great fun, and the stories are incomparable. Losers were never so fascinating.

Perhaps writing a book about failure, anonymity and obscurity is tempting fate ever so slightly - it would almost seem ironic if this book was a runaway success. Yet, it deserves to be; Collins crafts a book in which we empathize with the characters: we genuinely want their lives to be successes, despite knowing that ultimately, they wont be. At times, I felt like screaming at the book 'No! Don't do it!'

Painful as the 13 (not coincidentally chosen, I'm sure) stories are, they make compulsive reading. My favourites included the one about a visionary man who intended to build a pneumonic public transport system in New York City, and the story of the medical powers of blue light.

There were, of course, some chapters that I didn't find as arresting - not because they weren't well written, but because they weren't on subjects that I am interested in - however, curiously enough, when I gave it to my mother to read, she found the chapters that I didn't like as much the MOST interesting.

This is Paul Collins's first book, and I just hope that it doesn't wind up being his last, because the overriding feeling at the end of book was of wanting more, and what better indicator is there of a good book?

Nowadays Andy Warhol's 15 minutes truism is rendered mundane by the endless parade of incongruous celebrity imposed by today's incessant Media spectacle. This book brings the idea that we are very likely mistaken in our estimation of contemporary fame profoundly to life. The fact that some of the greatest artist our culture has produced labored in obscurity among their contemporaries is a familiar one. This eye-opening book explains why this is so.

By focusing on the past when Media was not so omnipresent we see that the random and ever changing quality of popular tastes always pertain. Through his re-telling of these 13 now obscure curiosities the author achieves valuable insight into the sometimes ludicrous, often venal whims and fancies that propel some issues and their advocates into the vanguard of the public mind.

The prose occasionally suffers from what I'd call journalism. As I read the first story I wished the author had been able to breathed greater life into the facts presented. In the hands of someone more ambitious some of these tales might stand more clearly as metaphor or epiphany. Of course they might just as easily have lost their focus on the valuable idea that contemporaneous enthusiasms are almost inevitably misguided. And in hindsight most, like the delightful story of Psalmanazar, could not be improved upon.

Don't ignore the further reading supplement. Finding it somewhat dry at first I almost did. It's interest lies in the gathered details presented of how one finds such obscurities.

A delight particularly for history buffs, Banyard's Folly explores thirteen tales of success or near misses by inventors or innovators of the past. You have the detailed story of ezch which includes names of already know people and their connections. A very satisfying read.