Detail from Hans Breinlinger’s The Clown, 1948.
Yesterday, a friend and I entered into a great debate. It started with my question:
“Does the clown exist who could make you laugh?”
He said yes; he thought that clown who does the act with snow off Union Square would make him laugh. (The show is lauded for its masterful clown-craft and its evocation of childlike wonder.)
“Okay,” I said, “has a clown ever made you laugh?”
“Of course not,” he said.
Does anyone expect to be amused by clowns in this day and age? We all know that clowns are creepy, clowns are scary, clowns are lame—but that understanding has always been predicated on the understanding that, like dolls, clowns are supposed to be happy, fun, innocent. Thus, when a clown goes psychotic, it is doubly terrifying. Or it was thirty years ago, at least. Now, in a world of John Wayne Gacy and It and Insane Clown Posse and Diddy’s coulrophobia-driven “no clowns” rider, we expect clowns to be sinister.
Take this recent survey of kids in children’s hospitals, a historical clown stronghold:
More than 250 children aged between four and sixteen were asked for their opinions—and every single one said they disliked clowns as part of hospital decor.
Even some of the older children said they found clowns scary, Nursing Standard magazine reported.
The youngsters were questioned by the University of Sheffield for the Space to Care study aimed at improving hospital design for children.
“As adults we make assumptions about what works for children,” said Penny Curtis, a senior lecturer in research at the university.
“We found that clowns are universally disliked by children. Some found them frightening and unknowable.”