Jac the Clown seems to be the recognized translation of the title, from the first English version in 1995. I’m innocent there.

The foreword alluded to his homosexuality. He was married to a woman, but went to Berlin with “one of his boys” (quotation marks from the actual text). He knew his life was over, and did his best to speed it up.

I know what you mean about the last pages of the book. There’s this long buildup to the first of Jac’s performances, and you’re really interested in how this tragic clown can be so popular. Bergman pulls the scene of confidently, and doesn’t let you know if it will end sad or happy until the very last page.

- Jonas

Another part of Bergmans tragedy was his homosexuality, which of course was unacceptable at the time, and as far as i can understand it, he never truly accepted it himself.

I grew up with the book (and to the English speaking I should say that the Swedish title Clownen Jac has a much better ring to it than the Jonas English translation, albeit the same meaning) standing in my fathers bookshelf. I often wanted to read it, since you know, clowns are funny stuff. But my father always tld it was to serious for my youn age. I finally read it at 19 or so (in a literature course at university, actually). I remember that while reading the last fifty pages or so I was constantly darting around in our summer house, nervously clutching the book with my hands. Amazing stuff. And it’s about a sad, very sad clown. (And to get it right you should of course read it while listening to Mingus track The Clown, a piece about another sad clown, with some striking similarities.)