Where the performer has the gift (for a “gift” it undoubtedly is) of devising effective patter for himself I am strongly in favour of his doing so. Borrowed patter may be likened to a borrowed dress-coat. It is never likely to be an exact fit, and a “giant’s robe upon a dwarfish thief,” or the reverse, cannot be expected to be a becoming garment. Every man has, or should have, a style of his own, and it is rarely good policy to imitate that of somebody else. If a low comedy man were to essay to play Hamlet, or a tragedian, however eminent, were to try to give an imitation of Harry Lauder, the result would be likely to be disappointing.
The reader, undertaking to write his own patter, and desirous of making it just what patter should be, will find counsels of perfection in “Our Magic,” and the more nearly he can approach them the better. As, however, all have not the good fortune to possess that admirable work, I venture to indicate what to my own mind seem to be the chief points to be aimed at.
It is almost a commonplace to say that the main object of patter is misdirection. As the term is more usually applied, this means something said or done midway in the course of a trick to draw away the attention of the audience at some critical moment, and to create what the French conjurers call a “temps” i.e., an “opportunity” for doing, unnoticed, some necessary act. But misdirection may very well start at an earlier stage than this: in fact, well in advance of the actual execution of the trick. Each trick should have some sort of introduction, and the patter serving this purpose should be such as to lead the mind of the hearer away from the true explanation of the marvel, and to suggest, in a more or less plausible way, some other, remote from the real one.
The suggested explanation may be either pseudo-scientific, where possible based on some generally accepted truth (and it is surprising what a long way even a few grains of truth go in such cases); or it may be downright “spoof,” delivered however with due appearance of seriousness. The explanations will naturally fall a good deal short of the George Washington standard of truthfulness, but the most tender conscience need not in such a case have any scruples on the score of veracity. No sane person expects truth in a fairy tale, and a magical entertainment, from beginning to end, is but a fairy tale in action. To put the matter in an epigrammatic nutshell:
Truth is “a gem of purest ray serene,”
A virtue always to be cultivated,
But such depends,—you’ll gather what I mean,—
On how you happen to be situated.
At home, abroad, wherever I may be,
I tell the honest truth, and shame the d——.