The Magician and the Con Man
Jason Lutes’ Jar of Fools is full of doubling, visually and narratively. The small squares, with their clear, simple drawings, seem particularly conducive to repetition of image, and the short, highly localized form of the narrative seems particularly conducive to repetition of events (for an amusing example of both, see page 36). The parallels between Ernie and his brother are, possibly, the most significant to the plot, but the pairing I found most interesting was the conceptual duo of the magician and the con man.
The conversation between Flosso and Lender on page 84 brings many of the intricacies of the pairing to light. Both practice a trade based on deception, flashiness and well-placed lies. As Lender says, they both give their targets “what they want.” Flosso presents his audience with a mutual lie that lets them think, even for just a moment, that there might be something greater than reality in the world; Lender presents his audience with a scenario that lets them think, for just a moment, that they or others in the world are kind, friendly, and good. Both put on their shows for money, and for a dignity in their skill–a dignity that remains even as a technologizing world, represented by David Copperfield’s disappearing Eiffel Tower and Lender’s fear of ATM cards, degrades their value. The pair are visually doubled in this sequence as well, often reclining in similar positions or, as in the top of page 85, filling the frame in similar and complementing ways.
The central question raised by their relationship is a deeply philosophical one. If people are lied to, but take it as truth, does it become ‘real’ for them? When Flosso accuses Lender of lying, he replies: “Call it what you want! But y’know, sometimes? They don’t want the truth! Whatever the fuck that is: the truth. What they don’t know can’t hurt ‘em. Let ‘em think that they helped someone and they have helped someone.” In a way, Lender is correct; for all intents and purposes, something an individual believes to have happened, remembers happening, is true for them, at least as true as anything else in their past–in this sense, how one remembers events (such as how Ernie remembers the death of his brother, as a suicide or an accident, as his fault or not) becomes extremely important to one’s history and identity.
Dreams, central to the story of this and many of the other graphic novels we read, also gain a new significance in this context. A powerful dream, or a well told and resonant story, can be just as ‘true’ an experience as something that ‘actually’ happened–and, indeed, the dreams in Jar of Fools consistently seem to interact with and encroach on reality. Ernie’s dead brother takes on an almost physical presence in his day to day existence, as does the loss of Esther. Forgetting the past, it seems, requires more than simple time or distance; it requires entering into an almost physical relationship with the memory, as Ernie does when he dons his brother’s death robes and takes to the bridge. If a powerful memory can remain more ‘real’ in someone’s life than their crumbling present, only by honestly addressing the past as such can the past ever be addressed at all.
