The Dummy

Ventriloquist's dummy.
Photo by Robert Zunikoff

‘The secret is to keep the lips perfectly still while the rest of the face expresses the range of emotions. The most difficult sounds are those where the lips come together, like p and b. Replace these with t and d.’

‘Try it now,’ he commanded. ‘Peter baked a berry pie.’

They obeyed, in chorus. ‘Teter daked a derry tie.’ 

‘If ever you require more precise enunciation, a hand in front of the mouth may suffice. Politely cover a yawn or a cough.’

The techniques were sound, thought the Dummy, but his students’ eyes were fixed upon him, not on the motionless lips of his demonstrating ventriloquist. It mattered little, he supposed, as long as the mysteries of language remained hidden.

‘Your lips are moving,’ admonished the Dummy, flapping his own charismatic wooden jaw. 

Just once he’d like to reveal the true teaching.

It is not you who move the lips, nor you who speak the words. You are the inhabitants of a language that speaks you into being.

But his students had signed up for illusion, not mystery, and he’d not be the one to disappoint them.


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