Long before children’s parties came into existence, Renaissance performers were using an ancestor of today’s book, known as the Blow Book.
The performer would hold what appeared to be an ordinary book, blow on its pages—which is where the name comes from—and as the pages were turned, its contents would appear to transform. To audiences of the time, it must have seemed like a genuine miracle.
One of the earliest known written references to this trick can be found in De subtilitate, a work by the Italian scholar Gerolamo Cardano, published in 1550. What is particularly fascinating is that Cardano does not present it as a new invention, but rather as something already being used by performers of his time. This suggests that the true origins of the Blow Book may be even older.
A little later, in 1584, the Englishman Reginald Scot, in his famous book The Discoverie of Witchcraft, reveals another fascinating detail: anyone who wanted one could purchase such a book at Paul’s Churchyard in London. In other words, as early as 1584, this was already a magical object that could be found ready-made for sale!
Over the centuries, the classic idea behind the Blow Book evolved, changed form, and eventually adapted itself to children’s entertainment.
And that’s how we eventually arrived at the Magic Coloring Book as we know it today.
What is fascinating, however, is that despite its enormous popularity, we still don’t know who the original inventor was. And perhaps we never will.
We are talking about a very different era from our own, when performers’ secrets were often passed down by word of mouth, and many techniques circulated for years before ever being formally documented.
In a world where magic could easily be associated with the supernatural in the eyes of ordinary people, it is hardly surprising that many names and stories of its creators were lost over the centuries.
There is even the intriguing possibility that the book may not have originally been conceived as a magic trick at all, but could have emerged from bookbinding techniques or experiments, until some performer recognized its theatrical potential.
There simply isn’t enough evidence to know for certain—and perhaps that adds just a little more mystery to its story.
The only thing we know for sure is that it was passed down from generation to generation, evolved over time, and managed to survive for centuries as a prop that simply refuses to grow old.
Article by Vasilis Ntotsikas