What we do for fun these days is a long way from what our recent ancestors got up to for giggles. But then, we don't need freakshows, we have daytime television and reality TV shows to provide all we could possibly want in terms of human weirdness and misery. Still, if you're looking for some alternative amusements, you might be tempted by the brightly coloured tends and equally colourful characters...
Intelligent Designing for Amateurs is a very silly book. The plot is silly, the characters are outrageous, and there's rather a lot of comedy. If you want to escape from the real world for a bit, come and dabble in this history of a Victorian era that never was.
Now, on the subject of that freak show, who wants to come and stare at the mermaid?
Booths and stands clustered around the big tent, with caravans providing an outer ring. The freak show had a festive air, and already plenty of people were sampling its gruesome delights. There was a great deal of fun to be had trying to guess which ones were real, and which were clever frauds. Charlie and Temperance passed a happy hour peering into darkened booths, murky jars, miserable cages and the big mermaid tank. This freak show had gone all out to impress, having a lady who sported both a luxuriant, auburn beard, and a profusion of colorful tattoos. They had no doubts about her. Equally convincing was the strong man, lifting a barrel full of delighted and squealing children.
“Why is he wearing so little” Temperance asked, far too loudly.
“Same reason as the tattooed lady,” Charlie replied, blushing. Even approaching the subject from a calm and scientific perspective, it did unsettle her seeing that much flesh on display.
“What reason?” Temperance demanded.
“Well, it’s the same with the mermaid, the cannibal savage and the dog-headed boy. They’re all freaks, so the usual rules of human decency cannot be applied to them.” She was also aware that their making good exhibits depended on showing as much as they could of their biological deviance, but wasn’t sure what Temperance would make of that.
“Oh.” Temperance paused in an ominous way that suggested another, even more tricky question would soon follow. “So if I got all covered in tattoos, could I go around with my unmentionable parts showing?”
“Your grandmother would kill you,” Charlie pointed out, not quite seriously.
“She’s got a tattoo. It’s on her back and it’s like a map with all little writing on it. I expect it’s a treasure map.”
Charlie imagined a birthmark, or horrible scarring from being caught in a fire.
They went back to look at the mermaid, who was resting both arms on the edge of her tank and splashing her tail about. Fish scales glinted in the sunlight as she moved. They studied the tail together, trying to spot an obvious seam or other evidence of theatrical costume.
“Are you really a mermaid?” Temperance asked.
The mermaid smiled at her, raised both eyebrows, then plunged beneath the water. Charlie drew in her breath at the same time, and held it. Years of guarding against discomfort whilst setting fire to things had given her an excellent lung capacity. Eventually she had to breathe out. On the other side of the glass, the mermaid blew casual bubbles into her waters and gave them a cheerful little wave. Charlie wanted to believe it was all a trick, like the creature last year – supposedly a demon, but when you looked closely it was bits of fish, lizard, half a bird and a collection of bones all cleverly strung together. The mermaid must have really big lungs, or a secret breathing tube up her nose, perhaps.
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