girls make trouble

Okay, I’ve got some time to sit down and talk a little about Laughter: An Essay on the Meaning of the Comic. Bergson, a French philosopher, wrote this in 1901 but it’s amazing how easy it is to come up with modern-day examples that fit his theories.

Basically, Bergson proposes that laughter is society’s way of correcting inelasticity in individuals. The reasoning here is that inelasticity, or the inability to adapt and be flexible, is antithetical to natural life. Since society’s primary goal is in maintaining the life we all know it instinctively attacks anything that might harm it. So for example, when someone’s walking along with their head in thc clouds and they suddenly trip, our impulse is to laugh as a way of shaming them into correcting their mechanical actions.

Bergson explores this theme of “the mechanical encrusted on the living” in really surprising depth for such a little book. He explains how even words can be considered comical when they’re used in a “mechanized” way, such as puns or double entendres where words and meaning can be interpreted in multiple ways.

But for Bergson the essence of comedy really boils down to a collective correction of the most comedy-inducing characteristic of all: vanity. Vanity, according to Bergson, is the ultimate mechanical act because when people are vain, they’re forgetting their natural, human qualities. Vanity is for people who can’t adapt and can’t acknowledge their own humanity, which is why it’s inherently comic.

There are a number of other examples of this idea, but I’m getting a little sleepy. Plus I’m looking back at what I wrote and realizing it’s probably clear as mud! Oh well. Anyway, do read this book, it’s really helpful for the many conversations you’re likely to have about comedy in your life. And no, I don’t mean that facetiously.

I just finished re-reading Laughter: An Essay on the Meaning of the Comic, by Henri Bergson. It’s a book I had to read for a class on ancient comedy. I hadn’t read it in years, but since I’m always mentioning it whenever the topic of comedy comes up I figured I should read it again, to make sure I still remembered it correctly.

I have every intention of writing a review of it, because as Carol told me when I suggested she read it, “Oh honey, I just listen to your rundowns of books like that. That way I don’t have to read them.” She might be onto something there; it’s a great little book, but slightly dense and high-falutin at times.

So long story short, until I get a moment to write a decent review so other people don’t have to wade through this book, here’s a haiku about it:

I, Living Robot,
do make myself an object
of jeers when I trip.