Inside Symmetry & Parity (Part 1)

By Ben Harris - Tuesday, September 13, 2022

It’s so amazing to see my new book, Symmetry & Parity being released. What an
intense journey it’s been! Over two years of hard work and love have made this
possible. Fine folk across many countries—England, USA, Mexico, Malta, China, and
Australia—have made this possible. Road blocks like Covid-19 (and the resulting
delays and shortages), have tested us all. Big thanks to Andi, Joshua, George, and the
fantastic team at VI who, with such professionalism and business-savvy, navigated the
obstacles!

Along the path to bringing Symmetry & Parity to fruition, an oft-asked question has
been: “What is the approach taken for deconstructing (and then reconstructing) classic
technique (or methodology) in order to create new material?”

The answer, one I’ve been thinking about since I received the same question arose
about my book Machinations, is:

Remove the established “blinders.”

These “blinders” are like obstacles. They function like the guards put upon a
racehorse’s head to limit peripheral distraction; to keep the animal facing/moving
forward.

It’s the same with many a magical effect, method or technique. We are set (or
“blinded”) in the way we address and use these things. They are the “established
ways,” the “classic ways.” The reason is often that the effect, method, or technique is
achieving its said aim perfectly. If this is the case, then there is no need, or desire, to
press ahead; no requirement for the inventor to explore any further. Familiarity and
comfort are, in themselves, “blinders.”

Robert E. Neale’s Trap Door Card is perfect, just as it is. There was no need for Robert
to explore further. None. However, by stripping the idea down to its skeleton—a blank
piece of paper with no discernible front and back, and then asking—“What else can we
use this basic structure for?”—new wrinkles did become obvious. Previously unseen
relationships between the front and back of the paper, its orientational quirks, and
other bits, were then put to use (and supplied as gloriously printed and die-cut
performance pieces) in the Machinations book.

No doubt that Burling Hull thought his Svengali Deck was perfect when he patented it
in 1909. And, I concur. It IS perfect. Over 100 years later the Svengali Deck is still one
the most popular magical trick-decks in use. Why? Because it is the perfect rendering
of both the skeletal dynamics and magical effect. Perfect. But have we been “blinded”
by this perfection, not feeling the need to look deeper? I suggest that the answer is a
solid, Yes!

We are all familiar with the Svengali Deck. (It was my first magic shop purchase as a
young child.) The configuration: 26 force cards (cut short), and 26 regular face cards,
has been the norm since 1909. So much time for us to get comfortable with the
concept and, in a way, to become complacent. While we’d occasionally ask, “What else
can I do with this Svengali Deck (and it’s 26 duplicate cards)? We’ve not asked, “What
else can I do with these 26 short cards and these 26 long cards—that’s NOT Svengali
related?”

In his deeply thoughtful book, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft (Scribner, 2000),

Stephen King encourages a way of writing fiction that is, in my opinion, applicable to
the creation and performance of magic. After all, both crafts are story-telling in one
form or another. Stephen suggests that plot can be set aside and that characters be
thrown into a situation with the hope that they’ll react, respond, develop and work it
out for themselves. Given the chance, they invariably do.

His point is that plot (we can substitute effect, method or technique), too firmly
established at the outset, can stifle the characters’ organic development. I suggest
that it is the same with the creation of magic. Why would you use the Svengali Deck in
any way other than it was intended? We don’t. Why? I think it’s because we are
constrained by its parameters. We are locked into a pre-established way of
considering the deck. We call this “tradition.”

However, by stripping away pre-conceived notions and comfort, much is revealed—

many new angles become apparent. Here’s how the “blinders” were removed, one
layer at a time, in Symmetry & Parity :

The book begins with an approach to the controversial Any Card At Any Number
(ACAAN) plot. I’ve long been a fan. If you’ve seen David Berglas or Marc Paul present
the effect, I’m sure that you’re a fan too. It can KILL.

I’ve also been intrigued, my entire magical life, about the use of a Svengali Deck for
the counting procedure used in ACAAN. It’s perfect for this application: Any number
can be called and the card is found at that location. The card immediately before and
after can be shown as being different. Perfect. However, if one is to allow the “free
choice” of a playing card in the first phase, then you will need 52 Svengali Decks on
hand for the counting phase. Too big a bulge in the pocket. (I have explored briefcases
with 26 decks a case, a mechanical table like Asi Wind’s, and a blackboard that,
depending on its orientation, would deliver any of 52 decks).

The problem was solved, to my satisfaction, by removing what was “blinding” me.” In
this instance, it was my conviction that I needed 52 decks of cards!

The solution is the Resurrection Shuffle, a nifty idea that allows the audience
members to shuffle the cards, even smudging them about on the table, before
reassembling the deck in any order they desire. You’ve not once touched the cards,
yet despite the spectators shuffling, the resulting deck is a perfectly ordered Svengali
Deck.