CBR15 BINGO: Adulthood, because it describes how the author grew into himself and his career
Bingo! Take the Skies, Relation”Ship”, North America, You Are Here, Adulthood
A couple of years back, a friend recommended (nay, demanded) that I get a free 30-day Hulu subscription so I could watch Derek Delgaudio’s In & Of Itself. I hate signing up for subscriptions to watch one show or movie, but it sounded intriguing and the friend assured my husband and me that we would appreciate it. A show that defies a definitive label, In & Of Itself might be described as a combination magic show/group therapy session. As moving as it was on a small screen, I can’t imagine what the experience must have been like to see a live performance. If you can still find this performance on Hulu, I recommend watching it before reading Delguadio’s Amoralman.
Amoralman focuses on the author’s early life through a 6-month period where he was a “mechanic,” a dealer who stacked decks for a crooked card game. The result is a fascinating story (Delguadio doesn’t like the term “memoir”) of which you are never quite certain how much is true.
Never having known his father, Delguadio grew up with a single mother in a town with “two different religious groups: conservative Christians, and ultra-conservative Christians.” When his one close friend realizes that Delguadio’s mom is a lesbian, Delguadio becomes an outcast and learns to hide his personal life from other children. He finds refuge in a magic shop, where the owner, Walt, lets him work some hours in exchange for free books about magic. He and Walt become close, and recognizing Delguadio’s talent, Walt introduces him to other magicians. Eventually he meets Ronnie, a sleight-of-hand expert who makes a living cheating at cards. Delguadio is fascinated by Ronnie’s skill and wants to learn his trade, but his friend disabuses him of this notion: “He made it clear from the beginning: He never would have given me the time of day if he thought I was going to follow in his footsteps. While I may have forgotten that I was a tourist in his world, Ronnie never did. . . . I recognized that I was asking to enter a world he would have given anything to escape.” Ironically, it’s Ronnie who eventually does open the door for him to deal in a dishonest game.
Delgaudio tells a great story (both in print and on stage), and his expertise is in revealing larger truths while possibly lying to you. He describes an essay he wrote in school about his favorite movie, Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. He recounts the story of how Gene Wilder came up with the idea for Willy Wonka to first be seen with a limp before he falls, does a somersault, and springs to his feet. When director Mel Stuart asked Wilder why he wanted to do that, Wilder allegedly replied, “Because from that time on, no one will know if I’m lying or telling the truth.”
Delgaudio also describes his despair when he finally sees one of his idols perform, finding the performance artificial and unsatisfying–so much so that he realizes he doesn’t want to be a magician. “It was as if I devoted my life to playing the cello, and, in the midst of watching Yo-Yo Ma play for the first time, I realized I didn’t even want to be a musician.” Later, in his journal, he writes, “What truth does deception for deception’s sake reveal? That we can be deceived? That’s not enough.”
I find all this fascinating, but I wonder whether readers who haven’t seen In & Of Itself will understand how Delguadio reconciles that belief with his career. He’s a hard man to put in a box, and I’ve seen him described as “performer” and “interdisciplinary artist” as well as “magician.” His story (or is it “story”?) is intriguing and even comes with a twist at the end. I highly recommend this book for fans of Delguadio’s work, though I wonder whether others might find it self-serving.
