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The Pantomime Life of Joseph Grimaldi: Laughter, Madness and the Story of Britain's Greatest Comedian

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Who invented the clown? I had not realized that this was a question with a good answer; surely clowns have been around in some form every since people could laugh. There were funny simpletons and conmen, for instance, in Greek and Roman comedies. But these were not clowns as we know them, in white face with enormous red lips, and in shocking parti-colored clothes, doing mostly wordless pratfalls and pranks within skits, and enduring sadness behind the mask. These characteristics come to us from the archetype clown, someone you probably never heard of but whom everyone in Regency England knew. In _The Pantomime Life of Joseph Grimaldi: Laughter, Madness and the Story of Britain's Greatest Comedian_ (Canongate) by Andrew McConnell Stott, this forgotten figure is brought back, with an appreciation for his fundamental contributions to clowning, comedy, and the role of the comedian within society. Stott's book is a wonderful recreation of the entertainments of the late Georgian age, and an important history of an essential part of show business.

Grimaldi was born into the theater, with a father who insisted on perfect performances and was horrendously abusive if he didn't get them. Grimaldi used the pain to advance his performances. He thought that his knockabout acts were insufficient unless he felt real pain in their fulfillment. He was first seriously injured at age seven, falling through a trapdoor because someone had omitted to cut eyeholes in his costume. The injuries did not stop when he was little, and even the scripted beatings, pratfalls, and leaps gradually wore him away. He could scarcely depend upon his legs to carry him in his mid-forties, but he continued to perform. Audiences probably didn't know what he was sacrificing for their attention, but attend they did. Stott gives a history of pantomime within the biography, which changed because of Grimaldi's art into a new form as a mix of variety show, acrobatics, ballet, and slapstick, as well as a satirical view of contemporary issues. These were not seasonal Christmas shows for kids, but entertainments enjoyed by royalty or by cobblers, even though (showing how there are always those who refuse to approve of new art forms) _The Times_ viewed pantomime as an "alarming symptom of a nation's degeneracy." By the time Grimaldi had taken his most famous roles as Squire Bugle and Clown in _Harlequin and Mother Goose; or, The Golden Egg!_ of 1806, even _The Times_ had come around: Grimaldi, it reported, was received "by JOHN BULL with that clamorous expression of his feelings to which he is accustomed on the view of an old favorite." It is hard to understand completely what all the fuss was about. Perhaps Grimaldi's familiar business of stealing sausages, for instance, had a special tang of humor when there was real hunger within London, and when shoplifters might hang. Much of the rough stage humor came from physical cruelty beyond simple pratfalls. When Stott describes in detail the action within _Mother Goose_ (and even gives as an appendix the script), it seems more silly and chaotic than risible. We might not be able to comprehend what was so funny, but even at the time, commentators repeatedly admitted that they could not communicate just what was so sensationally hilarious about a Grimaldi performance. One journalist attempted to review him, but wrote, "We can in no way describe what he does, nor give any idea of the inimitable style in which he keeps up the ball from the beginning to the end." You had to be there, I guess, and that's never going to happen.

That we a couple of centuries later cannot comprehend all of Grimaldi's showmanship does not make Stott's book any less fascinating. In addition to the life of the protagonist, the book's examination of the theater of the times, its fashions and rivalries, makes it a valuable portrait of the pattern of entertainment of the age. After Grimaldi died, the pantomime fashion for clowning subsided, and clowns found their employment in the equestrian ring - in other words, the circus. Stott's picture is of an influential artist, "the first great experiment in comic persona," and Grimaldi did not just bequeath whiteface and pratfalls to his successors. He had a tough life, not only with physical pains but with his horrific upbringing, his losing a beloved first wife, his outliving his one son, and his being repeatedly betrayed by those he trusted. He took these demons and battled them onstage with showmanship and humor, initiating a classic pattern or tradition of the rueful clown followed by Charlie Chaplin, Lenny Bruce, Richard Pryor, and many others.

Very few books can hold my interest and fewer still manage to impress me. This book is exceptionally well written and meticulously researched; the level of work that went into its writing is obvious. It's very easy to imagine the author toiling over his desk writing and re-writing each sentence until everything sounds just right. It suffices to say that his hard work paid off brilliantly because this book is extremely well crafted. Stott's writing style is phenomenal; it's very easy to read and flows like casual conversation but it also has a slight tinge of this academic stoicism that gives authority to everything he says. This book can easily be read for pleasure or used in a classroom. I really loathe to say clichèd things like "his writing is very nuanced" or "its simplicity hides a subtle complexity" because I think phrases like that and literary criticism in general are all pretentious nonsense. However, Stott's writing is very nuanced and its simplicity hides a subtle complexity. While reading this book, you really get that impression that whoever wrote it is very smart. If you don't think so, try reading it in a British accent.

With that said, there is a huge distinction to be made between a great story and a simple retelling of events. For this reason, biographies tend to be dull and generally not worth anyone's time. Grimaldi, on the other hand, could be made into a movie. Stott does a really good job of articulating Grimaldi's suffering and juxtaposing it with the irony that he's a clown. The fact that Grimaldi's job is to make others happy makes his despair seem that much more epic and perhaps even selfless. Adversity, afterall, is the catalyst which allows a character to showcase his heroism; without it, any display of resilience is entirely superficial.

Anyway, Joseph Grimaldi was born in 1778 which, as far as I'm concerned, might as well be a thousand years ago. All the information found in this book was undoubtedly an absolute nightmare to acquire and I'm convinced that anything there is to know about Grimaldi is found in these pages. As long as this book exists, Grimaldi will never die.

I suggest you all go out and buy, borrow, or steal a copy of this book right away.