Charismagic

Magic is either a crutch or a commodity; those are your basic two options. Let's face it, minus the card tricks, most magicians have all the personality of shoe polish, without the ability to shine. It is rare to find a trickster who transcends the chicanery, who can go more than five minutes without a quip. My friend Jacques, however, is a beautiful example of the exception. That boy will never go hungry. For him, magic is what makes life possible, it has taken him around the world and put a roof over his head. He will produce coins and steal watches like there is no tomorrow, and as a result, is welcomed with open arms at every club in town. People love him. And when I say love, I mean drape him with flowers and offer their firstborn. The devotion he inspires is matched only by the speed it is acquired. He is an explosion of bonhomie, a shock of geniality, a localised outbreak of virulent cordiality, and he turns the room around. You know why? Because everyone knows that at any point he can put the cards away and still have the magic.