I picked this up on a whim, but I'm glad I did.
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The subtitle to Alex Stone’s Fooling Houdini reads “Magicians,
Mentalists, Math Geeks & the Hidden Powers of the Mind.” Just as stage
magic inaccurately portrays reality to achieve success, so does this subtitle. Contrary
to what seems obvious, this is not a book about the psychological and
mathematical theory behind various magic tricks and effects—which is a shame,
really, because I absolutely adore that sort of thing.
Instead,
this book reads like a memoir. A really good memoir. In a conversational, lighthearted
and surprisingly engaging voice, Stone chronicles his journey through the world
of stage magic; he begins as a dropout at the Magic Olympics and ends with the
development of a trick that can fool the greats of the magic world.
That is
not to say that science is entirely absent from the book, however. Throughout
this journey into the world of magic, Stone also studied physics as a graduate
student at Columbia University. He brings a scientist’s perspective to the
world of magic, explaining in his writing the scientific principles that undergird
many of the building blocks of famous tricks—without, of course, actually
revealing the method behind the entire trick. The science is present, but it is
not the focus. Stone explains it as it becomes relevant, but the narrative concentrates
more on his quest to grow as a magician.
The
word “quest” might seem pretentious applied to a nonfiction book, but in this case
it is perfectly appropriate. Stone could be a terrible writer and still manage
to lend a sense of mysticism to his exploits. They simply tend in that
direction naturally. Stone’s first and most important teacher was Wes James, a
grizzled and taciturn old man revered in the magical community who frequents
the same pizza joint all day every day, barring weekends and holidays, holding
court with younger magicians seeking to speak with him or pick up his tricks.
Stone also meets Richard
Turner, arguably the greatest cardsharp in the world. He can count the ridges
on the edge of a card, consults for the United States Playing Card Company, and
was once hunted by the mob for his skill at the gambling table. He is also blind.
This
feels like magical realism, like something Neil Gaiman or Gabriela Garcia Marquez
would write. The idea that science and magic are less opposite ends of a
spectrum and more opposite sides of a coin comes to us courtesy of Stone’s
study of both. The fantastic original trick he develops relies almost
exclusively on math, but baffles both his teachers and any audience to which he
shows it.
I’m not going to explain the trick
here—that would be telling. Read the book instead; it's worth it.
4.1/5