Of all the stars of the stage in the cultural Mecca of late 19th-century Paris, its biggest attraction was a man who farted.

The farter, Joseph Pujol went by the name, Le Petomane, meaning “The Fartiste.” He proved to be the epitome of artsy-fartsy.

Pujol’s unique ability to control and stylize his farts offered a style of comedy that transcended age, race, gender and time.

In 1892, Pujol stepped before an audience at the famed Moulin Rouge, impeccably dressed in a red coat, black satin pants, and white gloves, and announced: “Ladies and Gentlemen, I have the honour to present a session of Petomanie. The word Petomanie means someone who can break wind at will, but don’t let your nose worry you. My parents ruined themselves scenting my rectum.”

Little farts warmed up the crowd. Le Petomane named the toots as he went, doing such impressions as a bride on her wedding night (a very little fart). A lengthy ten-second fart replicated the sound of a dressmaker tearing two yards of calico. Then, with all his might, he blasted one in the form of a cannon firing.

“People were literally writhing about,” one journalist wrote, “Women, stuffed in their corsets, were being carried out by nurses which the cunning manager had stationed in the hall.” Fortunately, stench was not one of the nurses’ concerns. Le Petomane kept his farts completely odorless by giving himself an enema before each show.

Biographers Jean Nohain and F. Caradec tell the life story of Le Petomane in the 1967 book, Le Petomane 1857-1945. As the book describes, Pujol discovered his unusual talent as a child during an annual family trip to the beach. While playing underwater and holding his breath, the young boy suddenly felt a cold sensation in his stomach. Alarmed by this strange feeling, he fled to a private place ashore to investigate. Nearly two liters’ worth of water began leaking from behind. After this gastrointestinal geyser he visited a doctor, who simply laughed it off and advised him to stay away from the sea. Pujol thought nothing more of the event, for the moment.

Years later, when recounting the beach incident with friends, Pujol was urged to see if he could still create such aquatic magic with his behind. Indeed he could. Excited by his friends’ response, Pujol began to nurture his talent by practicing with air instead of water. Soon he could suck air in and blow it out at will in the form of a nice, clean fart. His son, in a biography reproduced in the Le Petomane book, described the process as a “veritable fart fantasia.”

Pujol adopted the name Le Petomane and shared his gift with the public by renting a stage in his hometown of Marseille. He quickly became a local sensation. Word of mouth proved to be more than enough promotion, leaving no need for advertising. Before long he took his act to other provincial cities and was met with similar success. Le Petomane was ready for the big time, so he filled up with gas and headed for Paris.

In the early 1890s, the Moulin Rouge was made famous with its lively cabaret, high-stepping Cancan shows and renowned actors, like Sarah Bernhardt. But when Le Petomane arrived at the theater and met with director Charles Zidler he announced himself as the newest “phenomenon” of Paris. He would, he assured Zidler, be the rage all over town. Zidler’s curiosity was piqued. “What exactly is your specialty?” he asked. According to an article from the Moulin Rouge archives, the conversation went as follows:

Le Petomane: Well, you see monsieur, I have an anus like a suction device. In other words, my anus is so stretchy that I can open and close it at will. Zidler: So what? Le Petomane: It happens, monsieur, that through this fortunate opening, I can take any quantity of liquid given to me.

So Zidler offered a large basin of water for Le Petomane. Pujol came prepared with a hole cut in his underwear and quickly sucked the water out of the tub and flooded it right back in. Then he continued his demonstration:

Le Petomane: That’s not all! After an enema like that, I can continually expel odorless gas. The secret of my act lies in the different qualities of sound that I can produce. Zidler: Then, you sing from your behind! Le Petomane: Yes, monsieur, Tenor, one! Baritone, two! Bass, three! Contralto, four! Soprano, five! Now, a vocalist, one-half! Zidler: And my mother-in-law, can you do that too? Le Petomane: Here goes!

(A deafeningly loud noise was heard.)

Zidler: (laughing to the point of tears) You’re hired. You start this evening.

Little did Zidler realize Le Petomane would become the Moulin Rouge’s most profitable act. His performances pulled in 20,000 francs a show, more than double that of Bernhardt.

Aside from his impressions, Le Petomane also showcased other stunts on stage. The innovative Pujol inserted a yard-long rubber tube into his behind and attached a cigarette at the other end, which he smoked by contracting his anal muscles to draw smoke in and blow it out. After extinguishing the cigarette, the maestro transformed himself into a flatulence flutist. By attaching the instrument to the tube he was able to play such tunes as “Le Roid Dagobett” and “La Marseillaise.” To round out his rectal repertoire, and to end his show in dramatic fashion, Pujol demonstrated his true posterior lungpower by blowing out a candle from a foot away, then extinguishing the gas footlights of the stage one by one.

Once again, just as in Marseille, Pujol had grown so popular it was time to find new audiences to appreciate his virtuosity. Le Petomane took a leave from the Moulin Rouge and blasted his way across Europe and North Africa. By the time Pujol returned he’d grown used to his independence and chose to open his own variety theater. The Moulin Rouge, angered at his abrupt leave, hosted a competitive act—La Femme Petomane, named Mademoiselle Thiebeau. The notion that another “fartiste” could immediately replace Pujol was absurd, and she was quickly exposed as a fraud.

By 1914, at the outset of World War I, Le Petomane retired his ass from the theater and instead ran a bakery in Marseille, then a biscuit factory in Toulon. He passed away in 1945 at the ripe old age of 88. But even in his later years he continued to practice his anal hygiene. “Every morning after his evacuation he would give himself an enema using some two litres of warm water,” his son wrote, “and he was thus always meticulously clean.”

Unlike other farts that exist for only a short, stinky while before dissipating into nothingness, Pujol’s have gained immortality. In addition to the Nohain and Caradec book, Le Petomane is also the subject of several movies: a 1979 biographic film called Le Petomane, starring Leonard Rossiter; a 1983 Italian film titled Il Petomane; and the 1998 documentary, Le Petomane: Fin de Siècle Fartiste. Mel Brooks personally paid tribute to Pujol by naming his character Gov. William J. Le Petomaine in the fart-friendly film Blazing Saddles. And while still alive, Pujol even attempted to work with Thomas Edison on a “kinetephonolfactograph” film, which was to be accompanied by smell. But Le Petomane didn’t want to be misrepresented, so only a few seconds of film exist. Sadly, they are each without sound.

This is an edited version of an article I originally wrote for Bizarre magazine.