Humour

A compelling guide to the fundamental place of humour and comedy within Western culture—by one of its greatest exponents Written by an acknowledged master of comedy, this study reflects on the nature of humour and the functions it serves. Why do we laugh? What are we to make of the sheer variety of laughter, from braying and cackling to sniggering and chortling? Is humour subversive, or can it defuse dissent? Can we define wit? Packed with illuminating ideas and a good many excellent jokes, the book critically examines various well-known theories of humour, including the idea that it springs from incongruity and the view that it reflects a mildly sadistic form of superiority to others. Drawing on a wide range of literary and philosophical sources, Terry Eagleton moves from Aristotle and Aquinas to Hobbes, Freud, and Bakhtin, looking in particular at the psychoanalytical mechanisms underlying humour and its social and political evolution over the centuries.

Does humour make us human, or do the cats and dogs laugh along with us? On Humour is a fascinating, beautifully written and funny book on what humour can tell us about being human. Simon Critchley skilfully probes some of the most perennial but least understood aspects of humour, such as our tendency to laugh at animals and our bodies, why we mock death with comedy and why we think it's funny when people act like machines. He also looks at the darker side of humour, as rife in sexism and racism and argues that it is important for reminding us of people we would rather not be.

This book examines comic book adaptations of Aristophanes’ plays in order to shed light on how and why humour travels across cultures and time. Forging links between modern languages, translation and the study of comics, it analyses the Greek originals and their English translations and offers a unique, language-led research agenda for cultural flows, and the systematic analysis of textual norms in a multimodal environment. It will appeal to students and scholars of Modern Languages, Translation Studies, Comics Studies, Cultural Studies and Comparative Literature.

First published in 1961, this is the autobiography of Harpo Marx, the silent comedian of The Marx Brothers fame. Writing of his life before, during, and after becoming famous by incorporating lovely and humorous stories and anecdotes, Harp Marx tells of growing up in a rough neighborhood and being poor, being bullied and dropping out of school, teaching himself to read, write, tell time, and to play the piano and harp. He speaks of his close relationships with his family members, particularly his mother and brother Leonard (Chico), who would become his partner-in-crime on screen, and the profound effect that the death of his parents Sam and Minnie had on him. Filled with insider tales of his antics on and off stage, and the hard graft he and his brothers put into reaching their level of success, the reader becomes privy to a rare glimpse into Marx’ thoughts on everything and everyone he had the privilege of working with. The book reveals the friendships he forged and the blows he was dealt in show-business, and of his marriage to his wife, actress Susan Fleming, with whom he adopted four children and built a ranch on which they lived happily ever after, along with numerous animals. A thoroughly enjoyable read. “This is a riotous story which is reasonably mad and as accurate as a Marx brother can make it. Despite only a year and a half of schooling, Harpo, or perhaps his collaborator, is the best writer of the Marx Brother. Highly recommended.”—Library Journal “A funny, affectionate and unpretentious autobiography done with a sharply professional assist from Rowland Barber.”—New York Times Book Review “This is a racy autobiography by the mute Marx Brother with the rolling eyes, oversized pants and red wig who could send a glissando reeling over his harp.[...] It is enjoyable reading and polished writing...”—Kirkus Review

Anthropological writings on humor are not very numerous or extensive, but they do contain a great deal of insight into the diverse mental and social processes that underlie joking and laughter. On the basis of a wide range of ethnographic and textual materials, the chapters examine the cognitive, social, and moral aspects of humor and its potential to bring about a sense of amity and mutual understanding, even among different and possibly hostile people. Unfortunately, though, cartoons, jokes, and parodies can cause irremediable distress and offence. Nevertheless, contributors’ cross-cultural evidence confirms that the positive aspects of humor far outweigh the danger of deepening divisions and fueling hostilities

This work examines the importance of the social context for humour and explores the issue of gender and humour in areas such as the New Lad culture in comedy. The book also includes comic transcripts from TV sketches such as Clive Anderson.

It is all too often assumed that humour is the very effect of a text. But humour is not a perlocutionary effect in its own right, nor is laughter. The humour of a text may be as general a characteristic as a serious text's seriousness. Like serious texts, humorous texts have many different purposes and effects. They can be subdivided into specific subgenres, with their own perlocutionary effects, their own types of laughter (or even other reactions). Translation scholars need to be able to distinguish between various kinds of humour (or humorous effect) when comparing source and target texts, especially since the notion of "effect" pops up so frequently in the evaluation of humorous texts and their translations. In this special issue of The Translator, an attempt is made to delineate types of humorous effect, through careful linguistic and cultural analyses of specific examples and/or the introduction of new analytical tools. For a translator, who is both a receiver of the source text and sender of the target text, such analyses and tools may prove useful in grasping and pinning down the perlocutionary effect of a source text and devising strategies for producing comparable effects in the target text. For a translation scholar, who is a receiver of both source and target texts, the contributions in this issue will hopefully provide an analytical framework for the comparison of source and target perlocutionary effects.