No one knows the true identity of the sitter in Buffoon with books, formerly known as portrait of el Primo by Diego Velázquez—not even the name “el Primo” is certain. For centuries, viewers believed they were meeting Don Juan de Calabazas, a famous jester at the court of Philip IV, but recent research casts doubt on this identification. The painting’s shifting title reflects a broader mystery: who was this man, and why did Velázquez choose to paint him with such dignity? The Prado’s own catalogue now lists the work simply as “Buffoon with books,” a rare moment of humility in the face of art’s enduring enigmas. The sitter is captured at a table, surrounded by books—a striking choice for a court buffoon, who might more often be shown with musical instruments or comic props.

Instead, Velázquez presents him as a figure of intellect, his gaze direct, his hands resting on the texts as if about to speak. The light falls gently on his face and the open pages, suggesting both the illumination of knowledge and the humanity of the subject. Unlike the caricatured jesters in works by Jacob Jordaens or Frans Hals, Velázquez’s buffoon is rendered with the same gravity and psychological depth as his royal portraits, blurring the line between entertainer and philosopher. Painted around 1640, during Velázquez’s mature period at the Spanish court, the work has always belonged to the royal collection and now hangs in the Museo del Prado.

Its attribution to Velázquez has never been seriously doubted, thanks to the artist’s unmistakable handling of light and texture. The painting forms part of a remarkable series of portraits of court jesters and dwarfs, a genre in which Velázquez found both artistic freedom and a unique kind of truth. Today, Buffoon with books stands as a testament to Velázquez’s empathy and his fascination with the complexity of every human subject, regardless of their place in the social hierarchy.