100 books like Card College, Vol. 1

This is the first book I responded to in a big way when I was fourteen.

It had everything: close-up tricks, illusion secrets, magic history, an exposé of phony mediums and spiritualists, how to escape from ropes and boxes, pick locks, read minds, and walk through a brick wall.

And most important, it also had a hero I could identify with – Houdini, master magician, escapologist, daredevil, pilot, author, historian, and champion of truth and justice. And he was Jewish, like me.

I found the book incredibly rich on many levels. It confirmed in me that I wanted to be a magician and that magic was wonderful.  

This is another important resource from my teenage years.

Henry Hay was the closest thing I had to a mentor. He had very good advice, a sense of humor, an encouraging attitude, patience, and an understanding of how to relate to an audience.

This is where I learned the basic repertoire of magic effects that were the features of my magic shows for many years. Some tricks may seem outdated, but the advice is golden.   

My first love in magic is card magic. 

With nothing more than 52 rectangular pieces of cardboard you can delight, amaze, astound, puzzle, and thoroughly enchant folks of all ages. This book is high on my list because it requires no sleight-of-hand skills (which take dedicated practice), which means the eager student can start performing serious mysteries from the get-go.

The very first trick in the book is a gem that will perplex any intelligent observer.  

For anyone wishing to learn sleight of hand, this is the place to begin.

What makes the book so good are the more than 1500 illustrations combined with carefully written text. The book is loaded with more performance material than you’ll ever use, but so what?

The variety of magic taught is astonishing.  Bill—a noted sculptor as well as a magician—became a dear friend long after he had written this book. 

My wife and I once went to a magic convention with Bill and his wife Yvonne. The moment we walked into the main hall, he was surrounded by adoring fans who recognized him from his goatee and turtleneck and had grown up with his book by their bedside.    

The Witches of Vegas is a bewitching read that is hard to put down. Mainly, the narrative is divided between two high school-aged teens, Isis and Zack. Isis is a young witch kept in relative social isolation for her safety and the safety of others. The magic system in this world stems from emotion, and a young witch unable to control their feelings might magically lash out by accident. Zack is an apprentice magician, practicing card tricks and sleight of hand under his Uncle Herb's tutelage.

The Witches of Vegas is an enjoyable and quick read with a unique premise. I found Rosendorf's insight into how street performers pull off their tricks of particular interest.

Only a real genius of a bard could give justice to the heroes who saved the village city of Skendrick from Dragonia the Dragon. Due to a sudden shortage of geniuses Heloise the Bard, who’s never met a run-on sentence she didn’t like, tells you (mostly) all about herself the battles, the riddles, Heloise, the magic, pooping in swamps, Heloise, the flatulent minotaur… oh yes, the dragon! Almost forgot. And if there’s one thing she knows, it’s that facts will ruin the truth every. Single. Time.

Black’s ‘Friday’ is a song so infinitely horrible it creates a space-inverting portal that makes it an eternal classic. So is this book. Read it with your eyes closed. In hiding. With mushroom powder at hand.

For me, this book was a real education. It provided insight into how the greatest artists strive to break the rules and find interest in juxtapositioning different versions of reality and fantasy.  The perfect summation, to me, of what Escher strived to do is communicated in this quote, “My topics are often playful too. I cannot stop fiddling around with our incontestable certainty. It is a pleasure, for example, to deliberately mingle two- and three-dimensions, flat and spatial and to poke fun at gravity.” One of the main takeaways from this book is to always strive to reimagine reality, break rules, be playful, and never be afraid to fail.  

You can read a good screenplay with as much ease and pleasure as you read a novel, and the Fleabag scripts aren’t just good—they’re immaculate.

I pore over this book again and again, hoping that maybe this time I will see the trick, the moment of misdirection or sleight of hand that enables a story of profound personal pain—grief, loneliness, fear, they’re all here, all the big ones—to be so bloody funny. There is no trick, of course. There’s just flawless writing.

You should of course watch the TV show these scripts underpin, but do yourself a favour and read them too. Phoebe Waller-Bridge really did something here.

To encourage young readers to think critically, Vampenguin is a good choice. The misdirection isn’t quite so obvious. A family of vampires is at the zoo. The smallest vampire gets switched with a penguin (hilarious drawings make this sleight-of-hand possible). The child reader can see what the family in the story doesn’t—their “baby” is actually a penguin. Even better, the baby vampire and the penguin switch themselves back and the family never finds out. Once again, the young reader has out-smarted everyone by thinking critically. Nice!

This is not a best-seller graphic novel, you don’t see this book on every bookstore shelf. I discovered it because of Nina Mickwitz’s Documentary Comics. I ordered it from the library network that we had at my grad school. My degeneration is a Jewel of a book in many senses, it is a sincere book, a dialogue that goes through many channels: the images drawn, the text typed, and the way the book was made. The shifting in the line makes you think about the process and the author not just as a character but as a person experiencing the world from certain conditions and telling you about that experience.