In the year 1960, there is the account of a show, the naked woman it took to put on the show, and an amateur magician. And in the cold month of December, 2007, there is the story of a man and his lovely wife, a book concerning the oddities and mysteries of life, a documentary about a legendary sleight-of-hand artist, and a film scholar of rare integrity, and how all of these things appeared to be pulled together 47 years prior by the unseen hand of the magician with the naked woman on the stage.
But I would like to think this was only a matter of chance.
To explain.
Justin Charles Baker of Washington, District of Columbia, who had a poor tendency to procrastinate the purchasing of Christmas presents for his beloved and devoted wife, furiously searched for a rare, out-of-print first edition of a book entitled Learned Pigs and Fireproof Women, a text of which the wife dreamt.[2] Mr. Baker scoured the listings of rare book merchants throughout the country for the most pristine copy of this hard-to-find tome concerning the oddities and mysteries of life written by the esteemed, mysterious slight-of-hand artist and the omniscient narrator of the film Magnolia, Ricky Jay.[3] By Mr. Baker’s good fortune, the copy of highest quality was to be found in amazingly close geographic orientation at a place of business known as Royal Books, a rare bookstore of some reputation (heretofore unknown to him) run by bookstore proprietor, film scholar, and all around gentleman resident of The Belvedere Hotel, Mr. Kevin Johnson.
That evening near the bookstore’s time of closing, Mr. Baker quickly shut the door to his automobile, and covering his head from the falling rain, ran through the darkness, across the city sidewalk, and up the steps to knock on the usually locked door of the antiquarian establishment located at 32 West 25th Street in the fine port city of Baltimore. Mr. Johnson answered. Discussions ensued, shared interests were discovered, and connections were made while standing on the wood floors of the closing shop deep in discussion. Excited by this fortuitous encounter of like minds, Mr. Baker shook Mr. Johnson’s hand and bid him a hearty farewell with the promise of a friendly meeting to be held soon thereafter. Mr. Baker soon presented his lovely wife with the book that she coveted, and she kissed him with great appreciation.
By all accounts, two days later, a woman named Molly Bernstein walked into the Smithsonian Archives of American Art on the second floor of the Victor Building in Washington, D.C. Being an academic sort, she quickly settled into her day’s research. The lovely wife of Mr. Baker, Wendy Hurlock Baker, who worked at the Archives of American Art, set forth with her duties of presiding over seemingly endless linear boxes of catalogued, archived papers documenting the infinite, esoteric lives of American artists. It was not too long after Ms. Bernstein’s arrival that Wendy was made aware of the reason for her presence.[4] It seems that the nature of Ms. Bernstein’s work that day was far too much for Wendy as Ms. Bernstein was conducting research in support of a documentary film about none other than—Ricky Jay.[5] Wendy marveled at the coincidence of such a happening, and she excitedly explained to Ms. Bernstein how just two days previous she came into possession of a rare, out-of-print first edition of the book entitled Learned Pigs and Fireproof Women written by none other than—Ricky Jay. Ms. Bernstein, who kept in close consort with Mr. Jay, recounted the story to him wherein he remarked that this was “a confluence of events” of which he liked to take note whenever and wherever possible and that was, in the humble opinion of this narrator, not unlike the central vision in the film Magnolia.
And I am trying to think this was all only a matter of chance.
But our story doesn’t end here. For it was on that day Ms. Bernstein mentioned to Wendy that one of Mr. Jay’s favorite motion pictures is Nightmare Alley, a film from 1947.[6] As it happens, unbeknownst to Ms. Bernstein, Nightmare Alley is prominently profiled on pages 123-125 in a prestigious volume of considerable merit about the literary origins of film noir entitled The Dark Page: Books That Inspired American Film Noir, 1940-1949—a book that can be found displayed in the antiquarian bookshop Royal Books in the fine port city of Baltimore and which was written by bookstore proprietor, film scholar, and all around gentleman resident of The Belvedere Hotel—Mr. Kevin Johnson.[7]
And this, ladies and gentlemen, brings our story full circle.
But it is with most curious side note that the particular subject of Ms. Bernstein’s focus that day deep in the archives was of an amateur magician named Abril Lamarque, a friend to Ricky Jay’s grandfather.[8] On that day, Ms. Bernstein quite accidently found in an archive box of uncatalogued material a specific photograph that captured the moment when Mr. Lamarque stood on a stage and changed the color of a handkerchief right before the very eyes of a rapturous audience. He prominently displayed the yellow handkerchief and boisterously proclaimed that by the count of three he was going to turn its color from yellow to green. He began to count: “One!” An electricity filled the air. “Two!” A voluptuous, naked woman walked onto the stage. “Three!” Mr. Lamarque proudly presented a green handkerchief, and not one person in the audience was able to recount the moment when the handkerchief turned from yellow to green. The audience members had been too distracted by the naked woman to witness this, a technique known as—the Art of Misdirection. Ms. Bernstein proceeded to explain to Wendy that this technique of Mr. Lamarque’s significantly influenced Mr. Jay’s own forays into the Art of Misdirection.
Added to this, on that rainy night in the bookshop just two days previous after presenting the copy of Learned Pigs and Fireproof Women to Mr. Baker, Mr. Johnson surreptitiously pulled from his shelves a copy of an earlier book written by Ricky Jay.[9] Mr. Johnson opened this other book and presented to Mr. Baker with some bemusement a startling photograph of a voluptuous, naked woman sitting quite poised on a simple chair. The naked woman, Mr. Johnson explained, was the illustration of a technique that Ricky Jay employed in various forms called—the Art of Misdirection.[10]
So now then.
There are stories of coincidence and chance, of intersections and strange things told, and which is which and who only knows. And we generally say, “Well, if that was in a movie, I wouldn’t believe it. Someone’s so-and-so met someone else’s so-and-so, and so on.” But after recounting this story, it is in the humble opinion of this narrator that this is not just “something that happened.” This cannot be “one of those things.” This, please, cannot be that. And for what I would like to say, I can’t. But this was not just a matter of chance. Ohhhh…
These strange things happen all the time.
Justin Baker
End Notes
[1] Abril Lamarque and an unidentified woman on stage performing a magic trick, ca. 1960 / unidentified photographer. Abril Lamarque papers, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.
[2] Jay, Ricky. Learned Pigs and Fireproof Women. New York: Villard Books, 1986.
[3] Magnolia DIR P.T. Anderson PROD P.T. Anderson, Michael De Luca, Lynn Harris, Daniel Lupi, JoAnne Sellar, Dylan Tichenor. US, 1999, color, 188 minutes.
[4] Ms. Elizabeth Botten, a woman of refined manners and preponderant disposition as well as a trusted professional colleague and friend, discovered this and brought this to Wendy’s attention, post haste.
[5] Deceptive Practice: The Mysteries and Mentors of Ricky Jay DIR Molly Bernstein and Alan Edelstein; PROD Ronald Guttman, Alicia Sams, Philip Dolin. US, 2012, color, 88 minutes.
[6] The New York Times review of Nightmare Alley from October 10, 1947 states that “If one can take any moral value out of Nightmare Alley it would seem to be that a terrible retribution is the inevitable consequence for he who would mockingly attempt to play God.” This critical perspective of Nightmare Alley is remarkably similar to the thematic vision in Magnolia, which explores the egos and sins of an unknowingly interconnected constellation of people whose fates are ultimately judged by an unseen cosmic force through an odd and mysterious occurrence.
[7] Johnson, Kevin. The Dark Page: Books That Inspired American Film Noir, 1940-1949. New Castle, DE: Oak Knoll Press, 2007.
[8] Even though Abril Lamarque was an amateur magician, his primary profession was as an employee of The New York Times engaged as its art director for some years, hence his papers being stored in the Archives of American Art.
[9] Jay, Ricky. Cards as Weapons. New York: Images Graphiques, 1977.
[10] But it did happen.