
Carnivals and Masquerades
"We humans are performative creatures—the masks and costumes we put on are varied and many. But what happens when we take off the masks and costumes?"
I remember the circus coming to town. All the big trucks would pull in and line up close to Academy’s football stadium. The tents went up and the trapeze artists performed, the horses moved in circles with acrobats standing on their backs, the lions roared. Everywhere the smell of popcorn and peanuts and cotton candy. It was a world that seemed to me topsy-turvy, appealing and frightening all at once.
​
The clowns performed with their elaborately made up faces—and even then, I knew that somehow there was sadness there.
​
The carnivals happened too—with their midways and side shows. Come see the bearded woman and other unusual sights. Looking back, the marketing of the unusual, the odd, the unexpected illustrated some of our baser natures. And certainly as they always said, “the show must go on.” But to what end? Where do we discover something valuable in such moments?
Maybe it was an important rite of passage—perhaps it helped us in some way understand the notion of the mask, of performance—about how what one sees is not always real. As an adult, I would often pass “clown college” on the way to my mother’s house. Sometimes, the clowns would be there, sitting outside with their faces made up and costumes on having a cigarette. It always stopped me in my tracks. I’d pull the car over and watch for a while. Sometimes they’d wave to me. I’d wave back and continue on my way. It was both reassuring and sad to me all at once.
​
The building, “clown college,” was also a voting precinct for a time. The irony is not lost on me today.
​
But here’s the thing: the idea of the circuses or carnivals or masquerades as both something that happens in a physical place and as a performative event have their own long histories. We humans are performative creatures—the masks and costumes we put on are varied and many. Sometimes becoming an actor in such a situation offers its own challenge or excitement. But what happens when we take off the masks and costumes? What do we learn about ourselves and others when we do? The writers in this issue explore these questions in direct and in slant fashion.