The popularity of dangerous stunts and “fail” videos show that we are drawn to danger, even if we tell ourselves we disapprove. In the later part of the 19th century, there were people who starved themselves to prove it could be done, and of course there was an audience to see if they were right. Not that they actually saw much.
When Henry Tanner performed a 40-day fast in New York in 1880, under the supervision of the U.S. Medical College, spectators were admitted for 25 cents a ticket, the 2016 equivalent of about $6. They came in throngs, spurred by breathless newspaper coverage, to watch Tanner in his rocking chair, mopping his face with damp cloths that were sometimes inspected to ensure they didn't secretly contain soup. Those who couldn't attend sent 300 to 500 pieces of fan mail a day.
On the final day of the fast, admission was raised to 50 cents a ticket, for a box office take estimated at $2,000 ($44,000 in today's dollars); Tanner also received a $1,000 reward from William Hammond, a former U.S. Surgeon General convinced that surviving more than 30 days without food was impossible. After his 40-day fast, Tanner went on to open a successful health clinic in southern California, where he mentored other fasters pursuing both medical and performative excellence.
And there were others, like Giovanni Succi, who began his career as a medical experiment, but grew to love the fame and fortune of a successful entertainer. He spent twenty years staging fasts of various lengths for money. Political hunger strikes spelled the end of starvation entertainment, but there are some modern hunger artists who, once again, want to show it can be done. Read about them at Atlas Obscura.