Messerschmidt maintained his reputation even away from major art centers, and fans of his work made a point to visit him at his home in Pressburg. His most consequential visitor was Friedrich Nicolai, a bookseller who later transformed their conversations into a compelling essay that appeared to explain these confounding works. The text claims, among other things, that the sculptor was trying to craft an example of every possible type of “grimace,” of which he thought there were 64 varieties. Nicholai also wrote that Messerschmidt believed he was haunted by ghosts, including a “demon of proportion.” By creating a range of proportional faces, he thought that he could use them as talismans to ward off the evil spirits.

Nicolai’s account, published in 1785, two years after Messerschmidt’s death, has become the cornerstone for much of the art historical literature surrounding the artist. Later researchers built on these recollections, and have posthumously diagnosed Messerschmidt with various mental illnesses. As recently as 2011, one researcher suggested dystonia—a condition that involves involuntary muscle contractions that can affect the face, which may have been a symptom of schizophrenia.

For his part, Yonan thinks this game misses the point. In his book, he lays out his belief that the Nicolai essay is largely fabricated. Rather than a mentally unstable man’s talismans, he suggests that Messerschmidt’s “Character Heads” are the work of a “geek”—someone who obsessed over the workings of the body’s flesh and bone. Rather than idiosyncratic amulets, these sculptures may have been meant as a physical challenge to their maker. “He’s taking the most meaning-laden part of the body and mixing things up in how the parts of the face work to confuse or otherwise challenge our ability to figure out what they’re doing,” Yonan explained. “That kind of inability to pin down exactly what the faces are doing is, I think, what he was going for.” It’s a contrarian approach to artmaking that wouldn’t be out of character for Messerschmidt, a sculptor who never fit the mold of a genteel court artist.