Book of the Month: Annemann's Practical Mental Effects (with Comments by Max Maven)
Posted: January 8th, 2003, 12:21 am
As you all know, when this forum began, I solicited requests for candidate books. This month's selection received as many (and in some cases more) votes as several classic books on "regular" magic. There was, however, a problem: while I do own the book, I am ashamed to admit that I am not at all familiar with its contents. I could have simply posted a few thoughts and let you all have at it, but that would not be giving this book its due. So what's a guy in my predicament to do? I asked someone who can give (and has given) this book the introduction in deserves. I'm thrilled he agreed to do this for us, and I think you will be too. So (before I start to sound like Ben Vereen in "All that Jazz") allow me to present to you Annemann's Practical Mental Effects with:
Comments by Max Maven
Shortly after this volume was released at the tail end of 1944, Bruce Elliott wrote in The Phoenix that it was "the book of the year or any year." William Larsen (Sr.) agreed: He gave it the Genii Award for best book of 1944, and twelve months later repeated the accolade, proclaiming it the best book of 1945.
Paul Fleming's self-published review described it as an "almost overwhelming mass of high-grade material" that "covers the field of 'mentalism' with surprising thoroughness." In summation, he surmised that "for a great many years to come, Practical Mental Effects will hold first place as the outstanding word on mental magic."
Well, many years have passed, so the obvious question must be, How has this book held up over time? In order to address that query, we need to consider what preceded this collection, as well as what has followed.
Most of what we consider the basics of modern mentalism were refined only about 150 years ago, concurrent with the birth of modern Spiritualism. That timing is hardly coincidental; both can be seen as having a correlation to the impact of the Industrial Revolution on the western world.
For the most part, 19th-century stage mentalism fell into two categories: Second Sight and Q&A. (For the sake of this discussion we'll ignore related fields, such as Hypnotism, Lightning Calculation and Contact Mindreading, because--then as now--none of these was as widely circulated.) Today, Second Sight is more commonly known as Two-Person Mentalism. Such team demonstrations go back at least as far as the 16th century, but almost always incorporated as a segment of a longer show. Q&A is the act wherein audience questions, most often written down, are answered by an on-stage performer. It has older roots, dating back a minimum of 1,850 years. In the late 19th and early 20th century, it was usually done as an entire program. (A more intimate format, the Private or Office Reading, was commonly a one-on-one demonstration.)
Around the turn of the century, with the expanding market of consumers created by the rise of the amateur magician (enabled by the newly defined concept of "leisure time") and the subsequent socialization of magic via clubs and periodicals, technical information about mentalism began to see print (e.g., William Robinson in 1898, David P. Abbott in 1907). At the same time, the very structure of show business itself was changing.
In the 1920s, in response to the horrific (first) World War, the western world jumped into the "Jazz Age," which ushered in new entertainment technologies which, in turn, began to kill off both the full-evening touring shows and the multi-act vaudeville presentations. As these forms waned, new performing options emerged: the nightclub, the revue show, and the "club date" (the latter unrelated to nightclubs, referring instead to one-night engagements for social and civic groups). These new venues demanded shorter running times and faster pacing. The performer who made the most successful transition into this new mode was, of course, Joseph Dunninger. (It is indicative of this change that the term "mentalist" only goes back to the 1920s; in fact, Dunninger claimed to have coined it. "Mentalism" is an older word, but until that time had only been used outside the context of entertainment, in reference to a philosophical premise.)
These new conditions coalesced with the needs of the burgeoning amateur market. The combination stimulated a new wave of magic, particularly in the United States. Effects were tightened up, methods were simplified and, to a great degree, elaborate props were eliminated. For obvious reasons, card and mental magic received the most attention. This meant that many tricks were released as brief manuscripts, some consisting of less than a page of carbon-copied typescript. While earlier styles of mentalism were still being published (including hitherto unrevealed information from such as Paul Kara, Burling Hull, David Lustig and George de Lawrence), there was a very overt new trend.
Significant names involved Henry Hardin, Theodore DeLand, Al Baker and Charles Jordan. In the mid-1920s, Jordan was pushing 40; DeLand and Baker were in their 50s, and Hardin was past 70. Several younger inventors were about to jump into the mix, including Larsen & Wright, U. F. Grant, and a teenager from upstate New York, Theodore Anneman. (He later added an extra N to his surname.) He began contributing material to The Sphinx in 1926, and before long was selling manuscripts and earning a reputation as one of the more clever young fellows in the game.
Annemann's life was less than stable. His performing career was hampered by stage fright and substance abuse; the latter served to disrupt his two marriages, as well. But one thing about him was steadily dependable: his creative ingenuity, combined with a healthily informed respect for the past, and an unusually astute grasp of what audiences actually perceive. All of this came together in late 1934, with the debut of his magazine The Jinx, a small but potent publication that ran for 151 issues, through December, 1941. During its relatively brief existence, The Jinx focused primarily on this new style of magic and mentalism. Its pages contained some of the very best ideas from both the old guard and the new. (Among the latter were such youngsters as Stewart James, Jack Vosburgh and J. G. Thompson Jr.) Annemann's relocation to New York City put him at the center of what was then the crossroads of magic, which helped him keep the magazine fresh and progressive.
That ended on January 12, 1942, when Annemann committed suicide. The magazine, having been virtually a one-man production, ceased. Its impact, however, did not. Abetted by dealer Max Holden, Annemann had built up a wide circulation for The Jinx, and in the revived economy at the end of the horrific (second) World War, there were many potential new readers. Hence, in 1943, Holden engaged John J. Crimmins Jr. to assemble Annemann's Full Deck of Impromptu Card Tricks, a soft-cover book of 52 effects culled from The Jinx, arranged and edited by John J. Crimmins Jr. with new illustrations by Nelson Hahne. (Crimmins, an advertising executive, was a magic bibliophile located in the New York area who went on to handle the book reviews for Hugard's Magic Monthly for many years.) The book was an immediate best-seller, so it was not surprising that there was a more ambitious follow-up, the book under discussion.
Annemann's Practical Mental Effects contains 193 items, mostly drawn from The Jinx with a few additions from external manuscripts. The list of more than 50 contributors is impressive; among them are Dr. Jaks, Dai Vernon, Jacob Daley, Paul Curry and Peter Warlock. Fifty-eight of the items are by Annemann. (It can be argued that the only really significant Annemann item not included was "The Test of the Tiber." According to research by Max Abrams, this had been intended to comprise the final chapter, but was withdrawn because of potential legal problems, as both Holden and Philadelphia dealer Mike Kanter claimed ownership.) The material is organized into twelve chapters loosely defined by topic. A hardcover book of over 300 pages, its original retail price was $6.50. Within a year, a second printing was arranged. It has remained in print ever since. The 1963 Tannen edition has some slight revisions. In 1983, a cheap paperback edition was published by Dover with the title changed to Practical Mental Magic. For some unknown reason, this features a portrait of Dante on the cover.
So, now that we've caught up with the history, let's go back to that question. How does the book hold up today? In the Phoenix rave quoted at the outset, Bruce Elliott went on to conclude, "It makes, for our money, any comparable book, obsolete." Is this still true?
My answer is yes. Mind you, in the 59 years since its first release there has only been one comparable book: Tony Corinda's Thirteen Steps to Mentalism, published as a series of pamphlets from 1958 to 1960, and subsequently combined as a single hardcover. Together, I think these two books comprise the fundamental texts of mentalism. There is some overlap of material, but not much. For anyone interested in the field, both are vital starting points. Both contain superb material (as well as a few clinkers), and no other books provide such a wide-ranging approach. I frequently receive e-mails from people who want to take up mentalism, asking advice. My reply is always the same: Start with Annemann and Corinda, as they'll provide a rock-solid foundation. (They rarely write back. Perhaps they think I'm holding out. I'm not.)
But, as fond as I am of Corinda, I'll have to give the nod to Practical Mental Effects as the better book. In part this is because the Annemann tome contains more breakthrough material, often right from the source. The Corinda book is a valuable companion volume, but as it builds on the ideas put forth in its predecessor, the Annemann collection is the one I'd classify as being indispensable.
Does Practical Mental Effects cover everything there is to know about mentalism? Of course not. But there's a hell of a lot there. Classics such as Annemann's "Pseudo-Psychometry" and "Par-Optic Vision" play as strongly today as they did back in the 1930s, as do seemingly forgotten gems such as Sid Lorraine's "40,000 Words" and Hen Fetsch's devious approach to the Kolar "Lock and Key" plot. There are streamlined versions of the earlier types of mentalism, as well: Annemann's "Weird Wire" is still one of the best Second Sight routines ever published, and "Modernizing the 'One Ahead' Principle" by Annemann and Dunninger is solid work on the Q&A act. Valuable principles are explored in such items as Bert Adams' "The Krazy Kode" and Walter Gibson's "Date Sense." As noted, the material steers away from props, but there are some clever and useful ones (that don't look like props), including Otis Manning's versatile "OM Box" and James Deacy's "Just An Echo" which seems to get reinvented and remarketed about every ten years. And, throughout, there are psychological stratagems that are equal in sophistication and subtlety to anything being published today.
Is the material dated? Some of it, yes. But don't be misled by first impressions. For example, there's an entire chapter devoted to routines with slates--old-fashioned accoutrements that are rarely seen today. But, if you skip that chapter, you'll miss some excellent thinking. For example, Annemann's "Extra-Sensory Perception" can be done with a piece of cardboard, and Robert Parrish's "Slate Immortality" can work with a dry-erase whiteboard. And, even in the few cases where technology has essentially negated an entry (e.g., Annemann's "Publicity Stunt"), the thinking is no less stimulating.
It warrants asking: What new things have come about in mentalism since the publication of this book? I think there are a few trends that can be identified. The advent of television has increased the pace and further trimmed running times. The most influential exponents of this more brisk approach appeared in the 1960s: David Hoy and Al Koran. Doesn't their work make the material in Practical Mental Effects seem archaic? Well, it's worth pointing out that the core of Koran's most famous routine, "The Gold Medallion," can be found in the "Miscellaneous" chapter, "The Ball of Fortune" by Stewart James.
Another seemingly new trend is the growth of the auxiliary field of Bizarre Magick, which became formalized in the 1960s and flowered in the 1970s. But you can find early examples in Practical Mental Effects, such as Arthur Monroe's exquisite "Voodoo," Stewart James' landmark "Sefalaljia," and Annemann's own "Whim of Tituba."
In fact, I think there are only two major trends in modern mentalism that are missing from the book. One would be Cold Reading, which was very much around in Annemann's day, but had been largely set aside as a remnant of the declining Q&A act. This topic has never disappeared, but it retained a relatively low profile until the 1980s, when there was a strong resurgence of interest that continues to this day. In the past 20 years there has been a veritable boom in published material. Most (not all) of this has been garbage, confusing and irresponsible. But that's something to write about at some other time; the point here is to acknowledge that this element is missing from the Annemann book. Fortunately, one of the best essays on the subject can be found in Corinda's Thirteen Steps.
The other fashionable development in mentalism is psychokinesis, specifically the bending of solid objects such as spoons and keys. In the 1970s, Uri Geller took the world by storm with such demonstrations, and many mentalists were quick to jump onto his coattails. You won't find this in Practical Mental Effects. No, for that you'd have to look in the third issue of The Jinx, published in December 1934, where Annemann describes a direct precursor, a bending glass swizzle stick effect right out of his own performing repertoire.
Which brings me to a confession. When Dustin asked me to write an introductory essay to a discussion of Practical Mental Effects, I agreed--but explained that first, I would have to borrow a copy. For you see, I have never owned this book. The reason is simple: I prefer the full file of The Jinx I acquired in reprint back in my teens. As much as I respect John Crimmins, why would I want to let him decide which things from Annemann's magazine I should study? With a Jinx file, you get almost everything that's in the book, plus a lot more: the stuff Crimmins didn't select, the non-mentalism material, plus the engaging and often wonderfully caustic editorial commentary.
But, you've got to start somewhere. And so, my recommendation is legitimate: If you're interested in pursuing mentalism, Practical Mental Effects is the place to begin. Annemann once wrote, "Magicians in general seem to be on the everlasting search for new tricks. Not that new tricks aren't needed but it appears to me a great many of the good old tricks are misused…."
So. Ignore the occasional antiquated references. Don't be misled by Nelson Hahne's lovely but old-fashioned graphics. This book has exceptional value. If you read it carefully, including between the lines, you'll discover where mentalism has been, where it's been going, and where it's headed. Is it all there? Damn near!
Comments by Max Maven
Shortly after this volume was released at the tail end of 1944, Bruce Elliott wrote in The Phoenix that it was "the book of the year or any year." William Larsen (Sr.) agreed: He gave it the Genii Award for best book of 1944, and twelve months later repeated the accolade, proclaiming it the best book of 1945.
Paul Fleming's self-published review described it as an "almost overwhelming mass of high-grade material" that "covers the field of 'mentalism' with surprising thoroughness." In summation, he surmised that "for a great many years to come, Practical Mental Effects will hold first place as the outstanding word on mental magic."
Well, many years have passed, so the obvious question must be, How has this book held up over time? In order to address that query, we need to consider what preceded this collection, as well as what has followed.
Most of what we consider the basics of modern mentalism were refined only about 150 years ago, concurrent with the birth of modern Spiritualism. That timing is hardly coincidental; both can be seen as having a correlation to the impact of the Industrial Revolution on the western world.
For the most part, 19th-century stage mentalism fell into two categories: Second Sight and Q&A. (For the sake of this discussion we'll ignore related fields, such as Hypnotism, Lightning Calculation and Contact Mindreading, because--then as now--none of these was as widely circulated.) Today, Second Sight is more commonly known as Two-Person Mentalism. Such team demonstrations go back at least as far as the 16th century, but almost always incorporated as a segment of a longer show. Q&A is the act wherein audience questions, most often written down, are answered by an on-stage performer. It has older roots, dating back a minimum of 1,850 years. In the late 19th and early 20th century, it was usually done as an entire program. (A more intimate format, the Private or Office Reading, was commonly a one-on-one demonstration.)
Around the turn of the century, with the expanding market of consumers created by the rise of the amateur magician (enabled by the newly defined concept of "leisure time") and the subsequent socialization of magic via clubs and periodicals, technical information about mentalism began to see print (e.g., William Robinson in 1898, David P. Abbott in 1907). At the same time, the very structure of show business itself was changing.
In the 1920s, in response to the horrific (first) World War, the western world jumped into the "Jazz Age," which ushered in new entertainment technologies which, in turn, began to kill off both the full-evening touring shows and the multi-act vaudeville presentations. As these forms waned, new performing options emerged: the nightclub, the revue show, and the "club date" (the latter unrelated to nightclubs, referring instead to one-night engagements for social and civic groups). These new venues demanded shorter running times and faster pacing. The performer who made the most successful transition into this new mode was, of course, Joseph Dunninger. (It is indicative of this change that the term "mentalist" only goes back to the 1920s; in fact, Dunninger claimed to have coined it. "Mentalism" is an older word, but until that time had only been used outside the context of entertainment, in reference to a philosophical premise.)
These new conditions coalesced with the needs of the burgeoning amateur market. The combination stimulated a new wave of magic, particularly in the United States. Effects were tightened up, methods were simplified and, to a great degree, elaborate props were eliminated. For obvious reasons, card and mental magic received the most attention. This meant that many tricks were released as brief manuscripts, some consisting of less than a page of carbon-copied typescript. While earlier styles of mentalism were still being published (including hitherto unrevealed information from such as Paul Kara, Burling Hull, David Lustig and George de Lawrence), there was a very overt new trend.
Significant names involved Henry Hardin, Theodore DeLand, Al Baker and Charles Jordan. In the mid-1920s, Jordan was pushing 40; DeLand and Baker were in their 50s, and Hardin was past 70. Several younger inventors were about to jump into the mix, including Larsen & Wright, U. F. Grant, and a teenager from upstate New York, Theodore Anneman. (He later added an extra N to his surname.) He began contributing material to The Sphinx in 1926, and before long was selling manuscripts and earning a reputation as one of the more clever young fellows in the game.
Annemann's life was less than stable. His performing career was hampered by stage fright and substance abuse; the latter served to disrupt his two marriages, as well. But one thing about him was steadily dependable: his creative ingenuity, combined with a healthily informed respect for the past, and an unusually astute grasp of what audiences actually perceive. All of this came together in late 1934, with the debut of his magazine The Jinx, a small but potent publication that ran for 151 issues, through December, 1941. During its relatively brief existence, The Jinx focused primarily on this new style of magic and mentalism. Its pages contained some of the very best ideas from both the old guard and the new. (Among the latter were such youngsters as Stewart James, Jack Vosburgh and J. G. Thompson Jr.) Annemann's relocation to New York City put him at the center of what was then the crossroads of magic, which helped him keep the magazine fresh and progressive.
That ended on January 12, 1942, when Annemann committed suicide. The magazine, having been virtually a one-man production, ceased. Its impact, however, did not. Abetted by dealer Max Holden, Annemann had built up a wide circulation for The Jinx, and in the revived economy at the end of the horrific (second) World War, there were many potential new readers. Hence, in 1943, Holden engaged John J. Crimmins Jr. to assemble Annemann's Full Deck of Impromptu Card Tricks, a soft-cover book of 52 effects culled from The Jinx, arranged and edited by John J. Crimmins Jr. with new illustrations by Nelson Hahne. (Crimmins, an advertising executive, was a magic bibliophile located in the New York area who went on to handle the book reviews for Hugard's Magic Monthly for many years.) The book was an immediate best-seller, so it was not surprising that there was a more ambitious follow-up, the book under discussion.
Annemann's Practical Mental Effects contains 193 items, mostly drawn from The Jinx with a few additions from external manuscripts. The list of more than 50 contributors is impressive; among them are Dr. Jaks, Dai Vernon, Jacob Daley, Paul Curry and Peter Warlock. Fifty-eight of the items are by Annemann. (It can be argued that the only really significant Annemann item not included was "The Test of the Tiber." According to research by Max Abrams, this had been intended to comprise the final chapter, but was withdrawn because of potential legal problems, as both Holden and Philadelphia dealer Mike Kanter claimed ownership.) The material is organized into twelve chapters loosely defined by topic. A hardcover book of over 300 pages, its original retail price was $6.50. Within a year, a second printing was arranged. It has remained in print ever since. The 1963 Tannen edition has some slight revisions. In 1983, a cheap paperback edition was published by Dover with the title changed to Practical Mental Magic. For some unknown reason, this features a portrait of Dante on the cover.
So, now that we've caught up with the history, let's go back to that question. How does the book hold up today? In the Phoenix rave quoted at the outset, Bruce Elliott went on to conclude, "It makes, for our money, any comparable book, obsolete." Is this still true?
My answer is yes. Mind you, in the 59 years since its first release there has only been one comparable book: Tony Corinda's Thirteen Steps to Mentalism, published as a series of pamphlets from 1958 to 1960, and subsequently combined as a single hardcover. Together, I think these two books comprise the fundamental texts of mentalism. There is some overlap of material, but not much. For anyone interested in the field, both are vital starting points. Both contain superb material (as well as a few clinkers), and no other books provide such a wide-ranging approach. I frequently receive e-mails from people who want to take up mentalism, asking advice. My reply is always the same: Start with Annemann and Corinda, as they'll provide a rock-solid foundation. (They rarely write back. Perhaps they think I'm holding out. I'm not.)
But, as fond as I am of Corinda, I'll have to give the nod to Practical Mental Effects as the better book. In part this is because the Annemann tome contains more breakthrough material, often right from the source. The Corinda book is a valuable companion volume, but as it builds on the ideas put forth in its predecessor, the Annemann collection is the one I'd classify as being indispensable.
Does Practical Mental Effects cover everything there is to know about mentalism? Of course not. But there's a hell of a lot there. Classics such as Annemann's "Pseudo-Psychometry" and "Par-Optic Vision" play as strongly today as they did back in the 1930s, as do seemingly forgotten gems such as Sid Lorraine's "40,000 Words" and Hen Fetsch's devious approach to the Kolar "Lock and Key" plot. There are streamlined versions of the earlier types of mentalism, as well: Annemann's "Weird Wire" is still one of the best Second Sight routines ever published, and "Modernizing the 'One Ahead' Principle" by Annemann and Dunninger is solid work on the Q&A act. Valuable principles are explored in such items as Bert Adams' "The Krazy Kode" and Walter Gibson's "Date Sense." As noted, the material steers away from props, but there are some clever and useful ones (that don't look like props), including Otis Manning's versatile "OM Box" and James Deacy's "Just An Echo" which seems to get reinvented and remarketed about every ten years. And, throughout, there are psychological stratagems that are equal in sophistication and subtlety to anything being published today.
Is the material dated? Some of it, yes. But don't be misled by first impressions. For example, there's an entire chapter devoted to routines with slates--old-fashioned accoutrements that are rarely seen today. But, if you skip that chapter, you'll miss some excellent thinking. For example, Annemann's "Extra-Sensory Perception" can be done with a piece of cardboard, and Robert Parrish's "Slate Immortality" can work with a dry-erase whiteboard. And, even in the few cases where technology has essentially negated an entry (e.g., Annemann's "Publicity Stunt"), the thinking is no less stimulating.
It warrants asking: What new things have come about in mentalism since the publication of this book? I think there are a few trends that can be identified. The advent of television has increased the pace and further trimmed running times. The most influential exponents of this more brisk approach appeared in the 1960s: David Hoy and Al Koran. Doesn't their work make the material in Practical Mental Effects seem archaic? Well, it's worth pointing out that the core of Koran's most famous routine, "The Gold Medallion," can be found in the "Miscellaneous" chapter, "The Ball of Fortune" by Stewart James.
Another seemingly new trend is the growth of the auxiliary field of Bizarre Magick, which became formalized in the 1960s and flowered in the 1970s. But you can find early examples in Practical Mental Effects, such as Arthur Monroe's exquisite "Voodoo," Stewart James' landmark "Sefalaljia," and Annemann's own "Whim of Tituba."
In fact, I think there are only two major trends in modern mentalism that are missing from the book. One would be Cold Reading, which was very much around in Annemann's day, but had been largely set aside as a remnant of the declining Q&A act. This topic has never disappeared, but it retained a relatively low profile until the 1980s, when there was a strong resurgence of interest that continues to this day. In the past 20 years there has been a veritable boom in published material. Most (not all) of this has been garbage, confusing and irresponsible. But that's something to write about at some other time; the point here is to acknowledge that this element is missing from the Annemann book. Fortunately, one of the best essays on the subject can be found in Corinda's Thirteen Steps.
The other fashionable development in mentalism is psychokinesis, specifically the bending of solid objects such as spoons and keys. In the 1970s, Uri Geller took the world by storm with such demonstrations, and many mentalists were quick to jump onto his coattails. You won't find this in Practical Mental Effects. No, for that you'd have to look in the third issue of The Jinx, published in December 1934, where Annemann describes a direct precursor, a bending glass swizzle stick effect right out of his own performing repertoire.
Which brings me to a confession. When Dustin asked me to write an introductory essay to a discussion of Practical Mental Effects, I agreed--but explained that first, I would have to borrow a copy. For you see, I have never owned this book. The reason is simple: I prefer the full file of The Jinx I acquired in reprint back in my teens. As much as I respect John Crimmins, why would I want to let him decide which things from Annemann's magazine I should study? With a Jinx file, you get almost everything that's in the book, plus a lot more: the stuff Crimmins didn't select, the non-mentalism material, plus the engaging and often wonderfully caustic editorial commentary.
But, you've got to start somewhere. And so, my recommendation is legitimate: If you're interested in pursuing mentalism, Practical Mental Effects is the place to begin. Annemann once wrote, "Magicians in general seem to be on the everlasting search for new tricks. Not that new tricks aren't needed but it appears to me a great many of the good old tricks are misused…."
So. Ignore the occasional antiquated references. Don't be misled by Nelson Hahne's lovely but old-fashioned graphics. This book has exceptional value. If you read it carefully, including between the lines, you'll discover where mentalism has been, where it's been going, and where it's headed. Is it all there? Damn near!