The Art of Mimicry

From the Introduction. I GAVE him an account of the excellent mimicry of a friend of mine in Scotland; observing at the same time, that some people thought it a very mean thing," said Boswell in his Life of Dr. Johnson. Dr. Johnson replied: "Why, sir, it is making a very mean use of man's powers. But to be a good mimick requires great powers; great acuteness of observation, great retention of what is observed, and great pliancy of organs to represent what is observed." The art of mimicry, and the art of acting are almost identical; only the mimic has gone a step further than the actor in exercising his powers of observation. He has more closely noticed the collateral species of the genus "type." Acting is a mimicry of life; as mimicry is a burlesque of the actor's art. "Mimicry," said Mr. Max Beerbohm, in the Saturday Review, June II, 1904, "is a thing that has always interested me. As is parody to literature, so (at its best) is mimicry to acting. The two things have this further point in common: each of them is for the most part a specialty of youth. Read any undergraduate journal, and you will find that it is mainly composed of parody, unconscious and conscious. Only a very precocious undergraduate has original thoughts and feelings. His soul is still vacant, gaping for the contents of other souls. It is still malleable, and may be from moment to moment moulded to any shape. Maturity fills it from within and fixes it, and thenceforth its owner has no power of parody, and no desire of parody. That is the normal course. But sometimes a mature man retains this desire, and this power.... Now the power of mimicry deserts the average man at the same time and for the same reason as the power of parody. Before he is twenty the average youth can catch more or less recognizably, the tone of voice, and the tone of mind of his friends. Later his own mind acquires so distinct a tone, and he becomes so accustomed to the sound of his own voice, that his efforts at mimicry (if he make any) are dire failures. Occasionally, however, a man retains the knack even in his prime, and even though he has a distinct individuality. In him, and in him alone, we behold the complete mimic. For mimicry is a s form of criticism, and a distinct individuality-a point of view-is as needful in the mimic as in the critic. Mimicry that is a mechanical reproduction of voice and gesture, and facial play, is a mere waste of time and trial of patience. Yet that is the kind of mimicry that is nearly always offered to us. A man comes upon the platform and reproduces verbatim some scene of a recent play exactly as it was enacted by this or that mimic. If he were a parrot the effect would be amusing; for it is odd to hear a bird uttering human inflections. But he happens to be a man, and so we are merely bored. His method being an exactly faithful reproduction of his subjects, we have no inclination to laugh; and the only pleasure we might be expected to gain would be when the subject were one for which we had a profound admiration; but even so we should be more irritated than pleased. We should be wanting the real thing. An exact reproduction of the real thing can never be a satisfactory substitute, and if the average mimic is not a satisfactory substitute, what in reason's name is he?....