Memoirs Circus

P. T. Barnum's career of showmanship and charlatanry was marked by a surprising undercurrent of honesty and forthrightness. His exuberant autobiography forms a happy combination of all those traits, revealing the whole story of his world-famous hoaxes and publicity stunts. Here is a pageant of 19th-century America's gullibility and thirst for marvels, as told by the master of revels himself.

Three generations (grandmother, mother, son) of polar bears are famous as both circus performers and writers in East Germany. They are polar bears who move in human society, stars of the ring and of the literary world. In chapter one, the grandmother matriarch in the Soviet Union accidentally writes a best-selling autobiography.

Captain Eddie V. Rickenbacker, originally from Ohio, was best known as one of the commanders of the 94th "Hat-in-the-Ring" Squadron, a crack unit of World War I pilots that included many former members of the famed Lafayette Escadrille. The 94th ended the war in France with the highest number of air victories of any American squadron.

They called it Satan's Circus, a square mile of Midtown Manhattan where vice ruled, sin flourished, and depravity danced in every doorway. At the turn of the 20th century, murder was so common in the vice district that few people were surprised when the loudmouthed owner of a shabby casino was gunned down on the steps of its best hotel.

By the golden age of the mountain man in the mid-19th-century, there were perhaps only 3,000 living in the West. Their origins were disparate, although they included many Anglo-Americans. A good number hailed from wilderness regions of Kentucky and Virginia and throughout the newly purchased Louisiana Territory, which occupied the entire central section of the continent. French Canadians traveled from the north to work in the fur trade, while Creole-Europeans represented approximately 15 percent of the men known to be living the isolated mountain life.

They called it Satan's Circus - a square mile of Midtown Manhattan where vice ruled, sin flourished, and depravity danced in every doorway. At the turn of the twentieth century, murder was so common in the vice district that few people were surprised when the loudmouthed owner of a shabby casino was gunned down on the steps of its best hotel. But when, two weeks later, an ambitious district attorney charged young policeman Charley Becker with ordering the murder, even the denizens of Satan's Circus were surprised.

On VE Day in 1945, Edward Lyme was one of the many soldiers who thronged London's Piccadilly Circus to celebrate the end of the long war in Europe. Having been captured during the Defence of Calais in 1940, he had spent the previous five years in another sort of circus - the stalags of Germany and Poland. But Edward Lyme was not passive during his captivity and made several escapes. He scavenged for food and hid in barns - he was even incarcerated in a chimney for several days. One escape led him to finding himself nearly enrolled by a gang of Eastern European desperados.

Imagine losing a loved one in the public eye. A media frenzy ensues and spreads your family name through the news. Reporters ambush you, and across the country, strangers gossip about your personal loss. Welcome to the circus. In Media Circus, Kim Goldman, now a dedicated victims' advocate who works with families across the country, presents the first collective look at these ordinary, grieving victims - forced to manage their very private trauma and despair in a very public way.

He wasn’t always the Great Showman. In fact, Phineas Taylor Barnum grew up in relative poverty with only his wits to help him along. When his father died, the 15-year-old boy entered the working world as a shopkeeper’s assistant. In leaps and bounds, he worked his way from assistant to shop owner, lottery office owner, and, eventually, entertainment promoter. The bulk of his career was focused on his beloved American Museum, where thousands of ticket holders flocked every day to look at the human oddities, stuffed animals, live whale, and American memorabilia.

Never Quote the Weather to a Sea Lion: And Other Uncommon Tales from the Founder of the Big Apple Circus is a celebration of Paul Binders life in and around the circus. Drawing on 35 years with the show he created, the Big Apple Circus founder and founding Artistic Director invites us inside the fence every kid peers through for an intimate look at the uncommon life of circus artists, their animal partners, and the roustabouts who spend their days in a world that is both close-knit and international, high-minded and low comedy, death-defying and ludicrous.