By
Donald H. Harrison
The History Channel ran a commendable two-hour program on Houdini's life and
magic yesterday. I was intrigued with the thesis that the world became
fascinated with the exploits of this rabbi's son because his miraculous escapes
symbolized the most fervent hope of a large portion of the public—the ability
to slip the oppressive bonds of the environment.
Houdini's greatest popularity came during a time of economic turmoil, when
immigrants lived in tenements and often despaired of ever being freed from their
New World prisons. That almost nothing could detain Houdini—not locks,
not manacles, not jails, not large milk cans, not Chinese water torture
devices—was, according to the program's writers, a source of comfort.
Coincidentally, the night before I had watched a
Korean movie on DVD called Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...and Spring in
which ropes symbolized the weight of sins on a person's soul. I wondered
therefore whether Houdini's exploits might have resonated with his audiences on
a more metaphysical level.
I was interested in the opinion of my friend, Dr. Joel
Moskowitz,
a retired psychiatrist, on such matters. There could be some truth to it,
he suggested; was it not the case that during the same period, Hollywood's most
popular movies featured people who lived in mansions and lived lives of
ease—another form of escapism for audiences.
Joel has been a fan of magic for most of his life, and
serves as an adviser to the Committee for the Scientific Study for Claims of the
Paranormal. He noted that Houdini never claimed to be more than a trickster, and
the master magician's greatest disdain—anger even—was for
"spiritualists" who claimed that their practiced illusions were not
tricks at all, but the actual ability to communicate with the dead.
Houdini considered himself an entertainer; while spiritualists, in his
view, were frauds and flim-flam artists intent on exploiting
people's deepest emotions. Houdini—born Eric Weiss—battled these
prophets of Baal.
Whether the magic be Houdini's seeming ability to escape from certain death, or
another magician's aptitutde for sticking swords into a box without
hurting the assistant inside, "the public is fascinated by things that are
not explainable scientifically," Joel told me. "That's the appeal of
religion, spiritualism and magic. People want to conquer the
unconquerable."
Sounding like the psychiatrist that he is, Joel added that magic
allows us to "regress to a stage in our development when we were little
children when we could conjure up what we wanted. For example, if we
wanted to be fed, a breast would appear with nutrients."
The program made much of Houdini's great love for his mother, suggesting that
one reason for his Holy War on spiritualists was because one lady practitioner
tried to persuade Houdini that a note written in English and embellished
with a cross had been dictated for him by his dead mother. As Mrs. Weiss was a
Jew—who had not learned to speak English—Houdini knew the spiritualist to be
a faker. The incident may be the one that gave rise to the well-known joke about
the Jew who visits a medium, and after discoursing with his dead mother, asked
the medium to pose just one more question. "Ma, when did you learn to
speak English?"
Joel told me that particular spiritualist, fraud though she be, later became the
second wife of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who though reported by the History
Channel as Houdini's "friend," was more his nemesis. Doyle
fervently believed in a spirit world, and thought that those from beyond may, in
fact, have aided Houdini. Joel went on to note how ironic it was that
Doyle's best known fictional character, Sherlock Holmes, was the paragon of
rationality, while Doyle, on the other hand, lusted after the irrational.
There whose face always in shadows during the program, who spoke knowledgeably
about Houdini and the magician's art. It was Teller, the usually mute half
of the Penn & Teller duo, Joel told me. He speaks!
San Diego's first synagogue—Temple Beth Israel—which now rests as an example
of Victorian architecture in Old Town's Heritage Park had been sold by the
Reform Jewish congregation back in the 1920s to what has been described as
Spiritualist Church. The program made me wonder whether the Spiritualism
the congregation practiced included efforts to contact the departed.
Some further commentary from Joel Moskowitz:
Thanks Don for giving me the opportunity to share some
of my opinions about Houdini, his motives and the social psychology of his
audiences. It is notable that the public's fascination for conquering physically
challenging situations is evident in the current passion for
"Survival"
shows and "Extreme" sports.
A voyeuristic component drives the appeal. In a way this is a variant of
watching someone slip on a banana peal!
You will recall that I was loathe to conclude that Houdini's escapes exemplified
slipping from the bonds of the, then, confining hardships of the populace.
These days, more people, in this country (maybe it could be argued not enough)
have wider options for movement, live better, spend
more and yet the Survival/Extreme interest is high.
Psychoanalysis without direct contact with the person(s) to be evaluated is
denounced as groundless inference, To postulate the psychodynamics of
groups is even more risky. Nevertheless, some generalizations are safe.
People are frightened about the unknown. Science increasingly sheds light
on the mysterious. This, too, is threatening. If one becomes
reductionist, human life is no different than that of a paramecium. Because we
can think, we suffer the anxiety of what 'is'. It is transiently
reassuring to believe that someone has powers ('evidence') that we need not
worry: there is a plan and we are included in it. Is this not the theme of
most organized religion?
There is a distinction between Spiritism and the Spiritual experience which is
the shared feeling of belonging and mutual caring that some religious
institutions provide. Practitioners of Spiritism deceive with personal
gain in mind. The distinction is that Magicians tell their audience (as
did Houdini) that they are mere mortals who have an artful way to entertain by
simulating wondrous powers. This harkens back to our primitive magical
thinking in our infancy. Those in the audience who have the psychological
strength to regress, to suspend disbelief, can thrill in
the excitement of impossible happenings. Others are threatened and feel
challenged by a
magic performance. For these, it is a puzzle to be deciphered. They
may be offended instead of enjoying being a child once again. This type of
insecure psychological competence sadly limits the pleasure of wonder.
George Bernard Shaw has been said to state that there are three famous
personalities in our history: Jesus Christ, Houdini and Sherlock Holmes. I
suggest that these disparate characters at base shared one element, the ability
to amaze with their magical powers.
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