The Last Straw: There are two reasons you shouldn't buy ringside seats at the circus. The first is a story this week from Ostrava where, according to the Prague Daily Monitor, a circus elephant lost its balance during a show and fell into the audience, "slightly injuring three spectators".
One person suffered a broken ankle, in fact; but in a falling-elephant situation, that's a slight injury. The elephant picked itself up, meanwhile, and with great professionalism continued the act.
The other reason to avoid ringside is that you're less likely to become an audience volunteer, or so I thought when I booked tickets for the Royal Russian Circus last week. My kids had never seen a circus, so when one pitched up beside us in Clare, it was too good a chance to miss. Sure, as we took our places in the cheap seats, my daughter Róisí(7) wanted to know why were weren't nearer the action. But when it became clear the elephants would be performing without a net, I think she understood.
It was a very traditional circus, with all the old standards: tight-rope walkers, jugglers, a strongman, a hula-hoop lady, and of course a clown. The clown is always the star of a circus. And what I particularly liked about Marco the clown's act was that, when he needed an adult male volunteer to be the butt of his jokes, he started looking for one at the opposite side of the marquee, as far from me as possible.
Unfortunately, the first chosen victim reacted to the invitation as if he'd been asked to donate a kidney. You big coward, I thought, as he clung shamelessly to his seat. Then Marco picked another man nearby, who also refused. Whereupon I nervously scanned the audience and noticed for the first time that there were very few adult males at this show. The clown was doing the same scan, as it happened. And when I looked shiftily back in his direction, our eyes met across a crowded tent.
As Marco came to take me away, my son Patrick (5) was genuinely alarmed, grabbing my arm and whispering: "Don't go, daddy!" I had to explain gently that it was OK: that the clown would just humiliate me, and then I'd be released, alive. As indeed I was, after a routine that involved a skipping rope, a whistle, a blindfold, and me jumping around the ring like a cross between Michael Flatley and a performing bear. Róisín filled me in afterwards on the bits I missed: "And then, after they put the blindfold on you, they dropped the rope! And you were still jumping! That's why we were all laughing." Being a proven circus volunteer is like making a registered donation to charity: they keep you on file and, whenever there's an emergency, they call again. So when the strongman also needed volunteers for his act, I was first port of call. But at least this time I had a straight role.
IT'S ONE OF those awkward social situations when the circus strongman invites you to strangle him with a chain. One the one hand you know he's done this a thousand times before, with no ill effects. On the other, there's a natural reluctance to inflict suffering on another human, even for the purpose of entertaining children.
But the stunt was essentially a tug-of-war between two male volunteers, in which the middle of the chain just happened to be wrapped around a third party's neck. So the competitive urge takes over. I can't speak for the other guy, but I know I wasn't going to lose face in front of my kids. If the strongman had to die in the process, so be it. I just pretended it was the clown we were strangling.
Happily, the tug-of-war ended in an honourable draw, and the strongman was still breathing afterwards, which was a bonus. The circus concluded with a dazzling display of cossack-style equestrian skills, the riders standing in saddles and doing gymnastic routines as six horses galloped around the ring in tight circles. I reassured Patrick that if they needed any more audience volunteers, I was drawing the line here.
The show made a big impression on the kids. Until last week, Róisín wanted to be an artist or a brain surgeon when she grows up. Now she's leaning towards something in the hula-hoop area. And I must say that, in the era of computer games, it's good to see the old-fashioned circus hasn't lost its appeal. I know there's an issue of cruelty in what some circuses do. But the routines were very gentle, really. And so long as the fathers involved are treated humanely while in the ring, I don't see a problem.
