Comedy

In the narrowest sense, comedy is drama that makes us laugh and has a happy ending. In a wider sense it is also humorous narrative literature with a happy ending. In the widest sense, comedy includes any literary or graphic work, performance or other art intended to amuse us. This entry will leave aside theories of humour and concentrate on comedy as a dramatic and literary form. Comedy began at about the same time as tragedy, and because they represent alternative attitudes toward basic issues in life, it is useful to consider them together. Unfortunately, several traditional prejudices discriminate against comedy and in favour of tragedy. There are four standard charges against comedy: it emphasizes the animal aspects of human life, encourages disrespect for leaders and institutions, is based on malice, and endangers our morality. These charges are easily answered, for none picks out something that is both essential to comedy and inherently vicious. In fact, once we get past traditional prejudices, several of the differences between comedy and tragedy can be seen as advantages. While tragedy tends to be idealistic and elitist, for example, comedy tends to be pragmatic and egalitarian. While tragedy values honour, even above life itself, comedy puts little stock in honour and instead emphasizes survival. Tragic heroes preserve their dignity but die in the process; comic characters lose their dignity but live to tell the tale. Most generally, comedy celebrates mental flexibility and a realistic acceptance of the limitations of human life. The comic vision of life, in short, embodies a good deal of wisdom. 1 The demeaning of comedy Although comedy and tragedy grew up together, and many dramatists from Sophocles to Shakespeare wrote both, tragedy is usually thought superior to comedy, and is often judged the only important dramatic form. Tragedy is called ‘serious' drama, comedy ‘light' drama. The low status traditionally held by comedy is revealed by two meanings that arose for the word ‘comical': ‘befitting comedy; trivial, mean, low; the opposite of tragical, elevated, dignified' and ‘of persons: low, mean, base, ignoble or clownish'. The demeaning of comedy, and of humour generally, began with Plato. Four main charges are traditionally offered. One is that comedy, which had its origins in animal masquerades, phallic processions and similar revelry, emphasizes the animal side of human nature. Plato found the Old Comedy of his time still wild and vulgar. In his mind the licence of comedy encouraged the undermining of our rationality by our lower physical nature. When laying down rules for the education of the young guardians in his ideal state, Plato insisted that they must not be prone to laughter and that the literature they read should not show the heroes and gods laughing too heartily. Comedy is also charged with encouraging irreverence toward leaders and institutions. A society, like an individual, needs rational control, and that requires respect for leaders and traditions. But comedy can make fun of anything; Greek comedy even lampooned the gods. Plato was probably especially resentful of the ridicule his teacher Socrates suffered in the comedy of Aristophanes. Throughout history, opposition to comedy and laughter has been strongest in societies which emphasize physical restraint, decorum and conformity. Many medieval monastic orders had statutes forbidding laughter. The Puritan and Victorian eras saw many condemnations of comedy and laughter. The more authoritarian the regime, the greater its suppression of comedy. Hitler even set up ‘joke courts' to punish those who made fun of his regime - one Berlin cabaret comic was executed for naming his horse Adolf. The third charge against comedy, and humour generally, is that laughter is inherently mean-spirited. According to Plato, the object of laughter is vice, and specifically people's ignorance about themselves. Dramatic characters and real people are comic to the extent that they think of themselves as wealthier, better-looking, more virtuous or wiser than they really are. Our laughter at their self-ignorance involves a kind of malice towards them - a ‘pain in the soul', as Plato called it - that is not only antisocial but harmful to our own character. Aristotle agreed with Plato that the essence of laughter is ridicule. Most people carry humour too far, he claimed, not worrying about hurting the feelings of those at whom they laugh. This view of laughter was later called the superiority theory. Its most famous proponent was the seventeenth-century philosopher Thomas Hobbes, who said that the cause of laughter is the sudden glory we feel when we judge ourselves to be doing better than someone else. Those who laugh the most, according to Hobbes, are those who are conscious of the fewest abilities in themselves. They have to search out the imperfections of others in order to feel good about themselves. The last charge against comedy is that it is full of gluttons, drunkards, liars, adulterers and other base characters, who are bound to have a bad influence on our own morality. Aristotle said that comic characters are worse than real people and warned that children should not be allowed to attend comedies because they would be led to imitate the vices they saw on the stage. The purported danger of comedy to morality has been cited many times. It was part of the English Puritans' rationale for outlawing drama. Rousseau used it against the comedies ofMolière. The weight attached to it can be judged from the number of writers and critics who felt obliged to argue that in laughing at immoral behaviour, we reject it, so that comedy discourages rather than encourages vice.Ben Jonson, Sir Philip Sidney, John Dryden, Henry Fielding, George Meredith, Henri Bergson and dozens of others defended comedy by citing its moral utility in this way. 2 Answering the charges While the four charges against comedy apply to some plays and comic works, none applies to all of them, and none makes a convincing case that some characteristic is both essentially vicious and essential to comedy. Comedy's emphasis on the animal side of human nature may be a fault if we share Plato's low opinion of the body and of the physical side of life. Similarly, the irreverence of comedy may be objectionable if we agree that our leaders and institutions deserve reverence and not critical questioning. But we need not share Plato's views on these issues. Indeed, a good case can be made for saying that comedy is valuable precisely because it reminds us of our physicality and because it keeps us thinking critically about our leaders and institutions. The other two charges against comedy - that laughter is an expression of feelings of superiority and malice, and that the base behaviour of comic characters might rub off on us - do focus on two things that are reasonably considered objectionable. But they fail to show a necessary connection between either of these and comedy. Although the first of these charges has a long history, it has seldom been carefully examined. If the superiority theory is right, then our laughter is always directed at a person, and in laughing we must be comparing ourselves favourably with that person. But, as Francis Hutcheson showed a century after Hobbes, neither of these consequences is true. We sometimes laugh when no one else is involved, and we sometimes laugh when someone seems superior to us. If I open my front door on a November morning to find a foot of snow where there was grass the night before, I may laugh - not at anyone, not even at the snow (in the sense of ridicule), but simply out of surprise. Similarly, I may laugh at clever rhymes or other wordplay in a comedy without comparing myself to the character speaking the lines or to anyone else. Some action which is better than we expected may also make us laugh in surprise. A stock character in early film comedy, for example, is the plucky hero, such as Charlie Chaplin or Buster Keaton, who gets out of trouble with an ingenious acrobatic stunt that we would never have thought of, much less been able to execute. The stunt makes us laugh, though the character looks superior to us. The last charge against comedy - that we are likely to imitate its base characters - has probably been made more often than any other. But seldom has any evidence been given for it. Do people who see a lot of comedies have a higher rate of drunkenness or adultery? Are people who laugh at hypocrisy more likely to become hypocrites themselves? These are empirical questions calling for empirical research. Several characters, such as the boor, the windbag and the pompous ass, seem to be comic only if we think that their traits are undesirable - someone who emulated them would not find them funny. It may be that other comic characters, such as the smooth-talking liar, do elicit emulation from some people. But that has never been established, nor has it been shown that these characters outnumber the ones who discourage emulation. In short, like the other charges against it, the claim that comedy threatens our morality is largely an ancient prejudice. 3 Comedy and tragedy Once we set aside traditional prejudices against comedy, we can compare it more equitably with tragedy. The most general similarity between the two is their focus on the incongruities in human life - the ways in which our experiences do not match our expectations. As William Hazlitt said, humans are the only animals who laugh and weep because they are the only ones who are struck by the difference between what things are and what they ought to be. It is in their responses to life's incongruities that comedy and tragedy differ. Both see misfortune, vice, folly, and, in general, the gap between the real and the ideal as part of the human condition. But tragedy sees these leading to downfall and death, while comedy sees them as something we can live with and even enjoy. Comedy and tragedy also have different attitudes towards the physical side of human nature. Comedy accepts the limitations of our bodily existence and celebrates acts like eating and sex. Tragedy bemoans our physical limitations and often identifies the human being with the mind, spirit or soul. In general, comedy is more physical and active, and tragedy more intellectual and contemplative. Falstaff might deliver a monologue while gnawing on a leg of mutton: it is inconceivable that Hamlet would do so. The idealism and dualism of tragedy carry over to its vision of society. In tragedy only a few people are important and only their lives are of interest. The main characters in tragedy, as in the epic, are heroes, typically male rulers or warriors. In comedy, by contrast, there is a greater variety of characters, women are more prominent, and central characters may come from any social class. While the language of tragedy is elevated, the language of comedy is common speech. Tragedy usually focuses on the suffering of one elite character in an extraordinary situation; comedy involves several characters from different social classes in ordinary situations. When comedy has a central character, that person, unlike the tragic hero, is not exalted above other human beings. Tragedy emphasizes the dignity and pride of the hero, which are often based on the code of honour of a male-dominated, power-based, militarist ideology. Indeed, it is often just this ideology which gets the hero into the tragic situation. Comic characters, not bound by codes of honour, may lack dignity, but at the end of the comedy they are still alive. Indeed, they are often found attending a wedding or another life-affirming celebration. Furthermore, because comedy values life - especially the life of the community - over honour, it emphasizes the social support we all need. In tragedy, by contrast, the hero is more of a ‘loner'. Many comic plots are based on reconciliation and peacemaking, while no tragic plots are. As Aristotle noted, in comedy enemies sometimes become friends, but in tragedy they never do. 4 Comic wisdom The popularity and value of comedy lie largely in its vision of human life, which contrasts sharply with the dominant ideologies of Western culture. Those ideologies treat as virtues such traits as respect for authority, duty, honour, single-mindedness, courage and a capacity for hard work. These have been promoted by armies and other patriarchal institutions since ancient times. An important way of inculcating them in society at large has been to celebrate them in epic and tragic art, which are full of military imagery. Indeed, patriarchies try to get us to think of everything in military terms. In the USA, social programmes are called ‘the war on poverty'; medical research is called ‘the war on breast cancer'; even programmes to stop violence are ‘the war on violence'! When military metaphors sink deep enough into our culture, life itself becomes a series of battles. While blind obedience, single-mindedness, the ability to work constantly, and the willingness to die or kill on command are important for the conduct of war, it is not at all clear that they are virtues in all areas of life. Thus alongside the official ideology promulgated by epics and tragedy there has always existed an alternative ideology of comedy. Instead of promoting military virtues, comedy promotes the questioning of authority, mental flexibility, playfulness and the value of life. All of these threaten institutions of power in various ways, and as a result comedy has been suppressed in most cultures. However, because it addresses deep human needs, it has survived. Comedies have different kinds of characters. Many serve as negative role models, examples of how not to act. In laughing at the miser, the prude and the pedant, as Henri Bergson pointed out, we are recognizing their mechanicalness, their ineptness at living a human life. But most comedies also have at least one character that we identify with and may even admire. Many of the roles played by Charlie Chaplin, Mae West and Groucho Marx are of this type. These characters are so different from epic and tragic heroes that their usual name, ‘comic heroes', is misleading. We can call them comic protagonists. The attitudes of these characters embody what is most valuable in comedy. Unlike tragic heroes, they play as well as work. They are not unwaveringly committed to any cause; nor are they prepared to die, or kill, to achieve their goals. Like tragic heroes, they face problems and enemies, but instead of confronting them head on with violence, they use trickery, perhaps by turning the power of the threat against itself, or with reverse psychology. When all else fails, they are not ashamed to run away. As the old saying goes, you're a coward for only a moment, but you're dead for the rest of your life. Comic protagonists differ most notably from tragic heroes in their mental flexibility, a trait which comedy celebrates. The characters who lose in comedy are rigid creatures of habit; those who succeed are adaptable and think on their feet. Unlike tragic heroes, comic protagonists do not have fixed categories for thinking or acting. They can view situations from several perspectives and see many possibilities. Much of their thinking is lateral rather than vertical, to use Edward de Bono's terms. When confronted by problems, tragic heroes are given to emotions that make them mentally rigid and even obsessive. Comic protagonists keep an unemotional clearheadedness in the face of misfortune that allows them to think rather than feel their way through challenges. They do not engage in self-pity or curse their fate, but are more likely to laugh at their problems, as tragic heroes never do. As a result, they are more likely to bounce back from their mistakes and learn from them. The contrast here is fittingly generalized by Walpole's maxim, ‘This world is a comedy to those that think, a tragedy to those that feel'. Since emotional disengagement and the ability to imagine alternatives are a big part of human freedom, comic protagonists are considerably freer than tragic heroes. They are often in charge of their lives as tragic heroes are not, and they end up victors, while tragic heroes end up victims. It is often said that the tragic vision of life embodies wisdom. Solemnity and pessimism are considered hallmarks of wisdom. Western thinkers, with a few exceptions such as Democritus and Nietzsche, have usually thought wisdom to be a kind of seriousness about life. But that is all part of the traditional prejudice against comedy. Judged fairly, the comic vision reveals at least as much wisdom as the tragic. Indeed, if wisdom includes emotional disengagement, seeing life from a higher perspective than usual and seeing it objectively rather than from a self-privileging position, then comedy seems wiser than tragedy. If wisdom includes a realistic attitude towards life, comedy's tolerance for human limitations and its emphasis on adapting ourselves to an imperfect world seem to make it more realistic than tragedy. More fully than tragedy, too, comedy represents the richness of life - especially social life - in the many ways it may be lived and appreciated. Comic characters make mistakes and suffer misfortunes, but through it all they are at home in their world, and they get by with a little help from their friends. Tragic characters, with their elitism and idealism, are not satisfied with living a merely human life. The central lesson of comedy is that we are finite and prone to error, but with a sense of humour we can still be happy. The capacity for happiness seems to need some psychological technique for coping with finitude and fallibility, and humour is easily the most effective. Psychological studies have shown that humour is correlated not only with self-esteem but with creativity and a tolerance for ambiguity, diversity and change. Furthermore, humour has medical benefits - it blocks negative emotions, counteracts stress, boosts the activity of the immune system, reduces pain, and even has a laxative effect! Both comedy and tragedy are reactions to the human condition, but as a dramatic form, an artistic sensibility, and an attitude toward life itself, comedy seems truer to human nature. The displacement of tragedy by comedy and tragicomedy in the twentieth century seems a step towards the acknowledgement of this fact.