Scan barcode
futuriana's review against another edition
4.0
One of the most interesting things about this book is that with the exception of some of the outdated racial language (not the ones in the dialogue, but some of the narration) the prose and language is shockingly modern. If I had picked the book up blind I could have believed it was from the Sixties, or Nineties, or even from a new slipstream/modern fantasy type author.
If you come to this book after watching the movie, be aware it is more cynical, and a bit darked. It is also less plot driven. Not unlike some Bradbury of the same era, also reminiscent of Beagle in spots.
If you come to this book after watching the movie, be aware it is more cynical, and a bit darked. It is also less plot driven. Not unlike some Bradbury of the same era, also reminiscent of Beagle in spots.
jessrock's review
3.0
A strange little story for sure, about a circus that arrives in a sleepy Arizona town only to turn out to be packed full of real mythological creatures - a chimera, a satyr, a werewolf, a mermaid, etc. - though what makes the story strange is not the circus itself but the townspeople's disinterest in these impossibilities. They come expecting a "real" circus, are disappointed when it doesn't meet their expectations, and most leave complaining.
The novel is very short, just over 100 pages (with illustrations), but is followed by a 20-page catalogue of everything mentioned in the book (characters, places, animals, people only alluded to in the text, etc.). While the catalogue makes for somewhat awkward reading, the author saved his wittiest writing for this section, and it ends up being not a straight glossary but a mix of definitions, further illuminations, and outright jokes. If you read this book, definitely stick it out for the catalogue as well.
The novel is very short, just over 100 pages (with illustrations), but is followed by a 20-page catalogue of everything mentioned in the book (characters, places, animals, people only alluded to in the text, etc.). While the catalogue makes for somewhat awkward reading, the author saved his wittiest writing for this section, and it ends up being not a straight glossary but a mix of definitions, further illuminations, and outright jokes. If you read this book, definitely stick it out for the catalogue as well.
markyon's review against another edition
4.0
This is a great reissue by Bison Books.
First published in 1935, The Circus of Dr. Lao is a marvel: or as John Marco so rightly puts it in his introduction, ‘an obscure classic’. (page xvii)
Though Charles Finney published other novels and stories, this (his first) is perhaps his most famous, though even this is not all that well known. Like many others, I suspect, I know it personally through The 7 Faces of Doctor Lao, the George Pal movie of 1964 starring Tony Randall in the titular multitude of roles, though even that is quite hard to get hold of these days.
However the book itself is a richer and more complex experience.
It tells of a visit to the small town of Abalone in Arizona by a circus. A circus that appears, seemingly out of nowhere, and promises spectacles that are unparalleled by any other touring extravaganza.
The book begins in what we would now see as a small-town USA / Stephen King kind of way, as the town’s inhabitants read of the circus through an advertisement placed mysteriously in the town’s newspaper. The book shows us the effects of the circus on various members of the Abalone community, amongst them the newspaper printer and copy editor, a local schoolteacher, the children of the town and a down-and-out (this was the time of the Great Depression) recently discharged from the Army, amongst others.
Promising wonders never before seen, the circus actually reveals to the townspeople the mythical made real, their future, and their hopes and fears realised before disappearing again. There is a sea serpent, a roc, a Medusa, a werewolf, and even an ancient God.
Whilst holding up a mirror to the good and bad that 1930’s society can bring, it is also moralistic, with an ending that matches the eeriness of the main plot.
Some of the language is Bradbury-poetic, lyrical and obscure. It’s not every day that you read the word ‘pulchritude’, even less so on the first page of the novel. It is also deliberately ambiguous in its plot, a book that doesn’t explain everything and doesn’t finish with an ending that ties everything up, though it is apt. It even poses some questions at the end not answered in the book!
In terms of plot, well, it’s rather nebulous. You could cut it to ‘weird circus arrives, people see the exhibits, then circus leaves’, but there’s so much more than that. What we have is a series of experiences that the inhabitants are affected by. It is a book that, though short, is worth savouring and then re-reading.
It is also much more adult than I remember the film being. There are comments on pornography and the erotic, which are perhaps more explicit, though tame by today’s standards.
There are other elements that have dated less well: for example, Doctor Lao is often referred to as ‘a Chink’, which may settle uneasily on today’s more sophisticated reader. Nevertheless, as an indicator of the time, and language used then, if not now, I was able to work with it, feeling that the term reflected a small-town mentality exhibited in the book.
Unlike other more recent editions, the Bison Second Edition has been published with its original first volume illustrations by Boris Artzybasheff, which are odd, but totally in tune with the surreal aspects of the book.
There are no chapters but appropriate gaps in the text where necessary. The last twenty-five pages or so are called ‘The Catalogue’ – a dictionary list of the humans, the animals the icons, the foodstuffs and the places visited in the Circus. Totally unnecessary, yet somehow suitable for the book.
Weird, unusual and sadly affecting, this book gave me that Bradbury-esque feeling of sense of wonder, that sense of innocence and the fact that just ‘to believe’ is sometimes enough. Partly religious allegory, perhaps, partly satire, it is a book most definitely worth reading. I found it more than I was expecting – imaginative, bizarre, creepy, amusing, charming, quaint, and oddly unsettling.
If you think of Fantasy as being predominantly Sword and Sorcery or Tolkienesque, then this might broaden your perspective. For a book out on the limits, even seventy-five years on, and if you want to push your sense of what is Fantasy reading, then this is a must.
First published in 1935, The Circus of Dr. Lao is a marvel: or as John Marco so rightly puts it in his introduction, ‘an obscure classic’. (page xvii)
Though Charles Finney published other novels and stories, this (his first) is perhaps his most famous, though even this is not all that well known. Like many others, I suspect, I know it personally through The 7 Faces of Doctor Lao, the George Pal movie of 1964 starring Tony Randall in the titular multitude of roles, though even that is quite hard to get hold of these days.
However the book itself is a richer and more complex experience.
It tells of a visit to the small town of Abalone in Arizona by a circus. A circus that appears, seemingly out of nowhere, and promises spectacles that are unparalleled by any other touring extravaganza.
The book begins in what we would now see as a small-town USA / Stephen King kind of way, as the town’s inhabitants read of the circus through an advertisement placed mysteriously in the town’s newspaper. The book shows us the effects of the circus on various members of the Abalone community, amongst them the newspaper printer and copy editor, a local schoolteacher, the children of the town and a down-and-out (this was the time of the Great Depression) recently discharged from the Army, amongst others.
Promising wonders never before seen, the circus actually reveals to the townspeople the mythical made real, their future, and their hopes and fears realised before disappearing again. There is a sea serpent, a roc, a Medusa, a werewolf, and even an ancient God.
Whilst holding up a mirror to the good and bad that 1930’s society can bring, it is also moralistic, with an ending that matches the eeriness of the main plot.
Some of the language is Bradbury-poetic, lyrical and obscure. It’s not every day that you read the word ‘pulchritude’, even less so on the first page of the novel. It is also deliberately ambiguous in its plot, a book that doesn’t explain everything and doesn’t finish with an ending that ties everything up, though it is apt. It even poses some questions at the end not answered in the book!
In terms of plot, well, it’s rather nebulous. You could cut it to ‘weird circus arrives, people see the exhibits, then circus leaves’, but there’s so much more than that. What we have is a series of experiences that the inhabitants are affected by. It is a book that, though short, is worth savouring and then re-reading.
It is also much more adult than I remember the film being. There are comments on pornography and the erotic, which are perhaps more explicit, though tame by today’s standards.
There are other elements that have dated less well: for example, Doctor Lao is often referred to as ‘a Chink’, which may settle uneasily on today’s more sophisticated reader. Nevertheless, as an indicator of the time, and language used then, if not now, I was able to work with it, feeling that the term reflected a small-town mentality exhibited in the book.
Unlike other more recent editions, the Bison Second Edition has been published with its original first volume illustrations by Boris Artzybasheff, which are odd, but totally in tune with the surreal aspects of the book.
There are no chapters but appropriate gaps in the text where necessary. The last twenty-five pages or so are called ‘The Catalogue’ – a dictionary list of the humans, the animals the icons, the foodstuffs and the places visited in the Circus. Totally unnecessary, yet somehow suitable for the book.
Weird, unusual and sadly affecting, this book gave me that Bradbury-esque feeling of sense of wonder, that sense of innocence and the fact that just ‘to believe’ is sometimes enough. Partly religious allegory, perhaps, partly satire, it is a book most definitely worth reading. I found it more than I was expecting – imaginative, bizarre, creepy, amusing, charming, quaint, and oddly unsettling.
If you think of Fantasy as being predominantly Sword and Sorcery or Tolkienesque, then this might broaden your perspective. For a book out on the limits, even seventy-five years on, and if you want to push your sense of what is Fantasy reading, then this is a must.
nycterisberna's review against another edition
5.0
Hace AÑOS no me conmovía ni me asombraba tanto una obra de fantasía como ésta (creo que desde [b:Puente de pájaros|9783195|Puente de pájaros|Barry Hughart|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1290950940l/9783195._SX50_.jpg|958087] de Barry Hughart). Con una premisa sencilla (un misterioso circo llega a una pequeña ciudad, cuyos asombrosos artistas cambiarán para siempre la vida de las personas), personajes con diálogos excelentes (inolvidable Apolonio de Triana adivinando el futuro de una mujer obsesionada con los videntes) y escenas muy logradas (la del inicio: ¿es un ruso? ¿es un oso? cada persona va viendo de manera distinta a los distintos personajes). Una fantasía muy distinta, de las que ya no se escriben, casi como una fábula, alejada del grimdark, fantasía épica o inspirada por los cuentos de hadas que leí este año, absolutamente merecedora del Premio al Libro más original del National Book Award (1935).
Yo leí esta edición de Bruguera, que ya está descatalogada, pero en la edición de Berenice (de 2006) se agregan las 7 ilustraciones de la edición original de 1935, realizadas por Boris Artzybasheff, que son preciosas (y que espero poder comprar) (después me enteré que hay película: "The seven faces of Dr. Lao" así que la veré: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UOvqqD8kVw0)
Mi mejor lectura del 2020.
Yo leí esta edición de Bruguera, que ya está descatalogada, pero en la edición de Berenice (de 2006) se agregan las 7 ilustraciones de la edición original de 1935, realizadas por Boris Artzybasheff, que son preciosas (y que espero poder comprar) (después me enteré que hay película: "The seven faces of Dr. Lao" así que la veré: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UOvqqD8kVw0)
Mi mejor lectura del 2020.
thecommonswings's review
5.0
What an extraordinarily odd book: part of it has aged badly, particularly the racial epithets, but then again Dr Lao himself has this amazing tendency to drop into offensive patois when obviously annoyed by a question from a rube so a lot of it is very obviously meant to poke fun at the natives. It’s a strange old story, part shaggy dog story, obviously partly a rebellion against Finney’s ancestors and their religious fervour.
It’s a black comedy, partly a fantasy, occasionally a satire and occasionally straight horror. In it’s own quiet way it’s as much a neighbour to Mark Twain as it is Charles Williams’ fervid religiosity. The appearance of Satan and the final sacrifice sequence can be read as both horror and as a joke, because Finney is adept enough at juggling the tone. There’s something also weirdly haunting about the final paragraph or two which feel on one level anticlimactic but also very, very sad. The weird tone is totally matched by the astonishing art of Boris Artzybasheff, who juggles surrealism and grotesqueries with a strange beauty in his art here. It’s quite an achievement
And then we get the catalogue. Finney basically spends the last part of the book sending the rest of the novel up: it’s a dry collection of jokes at the expense of characters in the book, with occasionally haunting, moving or deliciously blackly comic asides. It’s waspish and wry and is phenomenally close to the way more modern writers like Pratchett and Adams love to wring jokes out of footnotes. In fact the whole thing seems deeply prescient of dozens and dozens of later books, and it’s a shame that Bradbury’s overwritten and lumpen Something Wicked is the most famous novel to be influenced by it
It’s a black comedy, partly a fantasy, occasionally a satire and occasionally straight horror. In it’s own quiet way it’s as much a neighbour to Mark Twain as it is Charles Williams’ fervid religiosity. The appearance of Satan and the final sacrifice sequence can be read as both horror and as a joke, because Finney is adept enough at juggling the tone. There’s something also weirdly haunting about the final paragraph or two which feel on one level anticlimactic but also very, very sad. The weird tone is totally matched by the astonishing art of Boris Artzybasheff, who juggles surrealism and grotesqueries with a strange beauty in his art here. It’s quite an achievement
And then we get the catalogue. Finney basically spends the last part of the book sending the rest of the novel up: it’s a dry collection of jokes at the expense of characters in the book, with occasionally haunting, moving or deliciously blackly comic asides. It’s waspish and wry and is phenomenally close to the way more modern writers like Pratchett and Adams love to wring jokes out of footnotes. In fact the whole thing seems deeply prescient of dozens and dozens of later books, and it’s a shame that Bradbury’s overwritten and lumpen Something Wicked is the most famous novel to be influenced by it
the_bard's review against another edition
5.0
Poetic and beautiful, mysterious and wondrous, comical and sardonic, this is a masterpiece of magical realism. I should have read this decades ago, but I'm glad I got to it at last.
jennoctavia's review
4.0
Welcome to the Circus of Dr Lao, a strange circus with magical creatures came to sleepy town Abalone, Arizona. Chimera, medusa, satyr, a fortuneteller, mermaid, you name it all.
It was fun to read the book and I found it bit funny.
It was fun to read the book and I found it bit funny.