I remember when this show came to New York and the ads on TV. My family was very much "into" fantasy. Lord of The Rings, Goblins and Faries, the whole nine yards. My mother had a framed print of The Unicorn Rests in the Garden". We one hundred percent wrote this off as something from a midway "freak show". It's very interesting to know the reality of it all these years later.
I was completely taken into it. I didn't believe it was "real" but I wasn't savvy enough to figure out what else it might be. I guess I just wanted to believe. I am not surprised we haven't seen one since.
I remember when Lancelot appeared at the California Renaissance Fair. I had always thought it was a post maturity surgical alteration. I am impressed to learn the full story.
When you consider the history of the circus, and particularly that of RB/B&B, you see that this kind of deception used to be fairly common.
P.T. Barnum (the "Barnum" of the circus) built his career through exhibition of unique and odd things that stretched credulity. Among them, exotic animals, which he turned into an expected and necessary part of a circus experience. The Ringling Brothers, who were Barnum's most succesful and enduring competition, necessarily entered into a similar arrangement.
For years the circus used suspension of disbelief as a promotional tool; it targeted the uneducated and undereducated masses and promised them experiences of the kind that they could only achieve through attending the circus. This approach was fine when the circus had no immediate competition for an audience, but the advent of motion pictures and television eroded its audience and appeal. Worse still, it eroded suspension of disbelief as a selling point.
By the 1980s, the circus had lost its mystique. In past times, its staff of press agents would carefully control the narrative around exhibitions to avoid any negative truths from being known. But now it could no longer control its narrative.
If Barnum had encountered Lancelot, he would have not only ensured stardom for the animal but also that no one in the press and public questioned his existence or how he came to be. But that kind of America, by the 1980s, no longer truthfully existed.
I remember when this show came to New York and the ads on TV. My family was very much "into" fantasy. Lord of The Rings, Goblins and Faries, the whole nine yards. My mother had a framed print of The Unicorn Rests in the Garden". We one hundred percent wrote this off as something from a midway "freak show". It's very interesting to know the reality of it all these years later.
I was completely taken into it. I didn't believe it was "real" but I wasn't savvy enough to figure out what else it might be. I guess I just wanted to believe. I am not surprised we haven't seen one since.
I remember this, too. I loved unicorns as a child and had them all over my bedroom, but I knew that
this something grotesque and not meant to be. That poor animal.
As a kid, I had no idea what was going on. Now its obvious why we have never seen anything like it again.
I remember when Lancelot appeared at the California Renaissance Fair. I had always thought it was a post maturity surgical alteration. I am impressed to learn the full story.
Those are good thoughts. Well said.
When you consider the history of the circus, and particularly that of RB/B&B, you see that this kind of deception used to be fairly common.
P.T. Barnum (the "Barnum" of the circus) built his career through exhibition of unique and odd things that stretched credulity. Among them, exotic animals, which he turned into an expected and necessary part of a circus experience. The Ringling Brothers, who were Barnum's most succesful and enduring competition, necessarily entered into a similar arrangement.
For years the circus used suspension of disbelief as a promotional tool; it targeted the uneducated and undereducated masses and promised them experiences of the kind that they could only achieve through attending the circus. This approach was fine when the circus had no immediate competition for an audience, but the advent of motion pictures and television eroded its audience and appeal. Worse still, it eroded suspension of disbelief as a selling point.
By the 1980s, the circus had lost its mystique. In past times, its staff of press agents would carefully control the narrative around exhibitions to avoid any negative truths from being known. But now it could no longer control its narrative.
If Barnum had encountered Lancelot, he would have not only ensured stardom for the animal but also that no one in the press and public questioned his existence or how he came to be. But that kind of America, by the 1980s, no longer truthfully existed.