The “moral backside” is the peculiar attribute which exists as the

result of a comparison. But this is followed by a continuation of the

comparison with a regular play on words (“necessity”) and a second,

still more unusual combination (“the pants of good-breeding”), which is

possibly witty in itself; for the pants become witty, as it were,

because they are the pants of good-breeding. Therefore it may not take

us by surprise if we get the impression of a very witty comparison; we

are beginning to notice that we show a general tendency in our

estimation to extend a quality to the whole thing when it clings only to

one part of it. Besides, the “pants of good-breeding” remind us of a

similar confusing verse of Heine.

“_Until, at last, the buttons tore from the pants of my patience._”

It is obvious that both of the last comparisons possess a character

which one cannot find in all good, i.e., fitting, comparisons. One might

say that they are in a large manner “debasing,” for they place a thing

of high category, an abstraction (good-breeding, patience), side by side

with a thing of a very concrete nature of a very low kind (pants).

Whether this peculiarity has something to do with wit we shall have to

consider in another connection. Let us attempt to analyze another

example in which the degrading character is exceptionally well defined.

In Nestroy’s farce “_Einen Jux will er sich machen_,” the clerk,

Weinberl, who resolves in his imagination how he will ponder over his

youth when he has some day become a well-established old merchant, says:

“_When in the course of confidential conversation the ice is chopped up

before the warehouse of memory; when the portal of the storehouse of

antiquity is unlocked again; and when the mattings of phantasy are

stocked full with wares of yore._” These are certainly comparisons of

abstractions with very common, concrete things, but the witticism

depends—exclusively or only partially—upon the circumstance that a clerk

makes use of these comparisons which are taken from the sphere of his

daily occupation. But to bring the abstract in relation to the

commonplace with which he is otherwise filled is an act of

_unification_. Let us revert to Lichtenberg’s comparisons.

_Peculiar Attributions_

“_The motives for our actions may be arranged like the thirty-two winds,

and their names may be classified in a similar way, e.g.,

Bread-bread-glory or Glory-glory-bread._”

As so often happens in Lichtenberg’s witticisms, in this case, too, the

impression of appropriateness, cleverness, and ingenuity is so marked

that our judgment of the character of the witty element is thereby

misled. If something witty is intermingled in such an utterance with the

excellent sense, we probably are deluded into declaring the whole to be

an exceptional joke. Moreover, I dare say that everything that is really

witty about it results from the strangeness of the peculiar combination

bread-bread-glory. Thus as far as wit is concerned it is representation

through absurdity.

The peculiar combination or absurd attribution can alone be represented

as a product of a comparison.

Lichtenberg says: “_A twice-sleepy woman—a once-sleepy church pew_.”

Behind each one there is a comparison with a bed; in both cases there is

besides the comparison also the technical factor of _allusion_. Once it

is an allusion to the soporific effect of sermons, and the second time

to the inexhaustible theme of sex.

Having found hitherto that a comparison as often as it appears witty

owes this impression to its connection with one of the techniques of wit

known to us, there are nevertheless some other examples which seem to

point to the fact that a comparison as such can also be witty.

This is Lichtenberg’s characteristic remark about certain odes. “They

are in poetry what Jacob Böhm’s immortal writings are in prose—_they are

a kind of picnic in which the author supplies the words, and the readers

the meaning_.”

“When he _philosophizes_, he generally sheds _an agreeable moonlight_

over his topics, which is in the main quite pleasant, but which does not

show any one subject clearly.”

Again, Heine’s description: “_Her face resembled a kodex palimpsestus,

where under the new block-lettered text of a church father peek forth

the half-obliterated verses of an ancient Hellenic erotic poet._”

Or, the continued comparison of a very degrading tendency, in the “Bäder

von Lucca.”

“_The Catholic priest_ is more like a clerk who is employed in a big

business; the church, the big house at the head of which is the Pope,

gives him a definite salary. He works lazily like one who is not working

on his own account, he has many colleagues, and so easily remains

unnoticed in the big business enterprise. He is concerned only in the

credit of the house and still more in its preservation, since he would

be deprived of his means of sustenance in case it went bankrupt. _The

Protestant clergyman_, on the other hand, is his own boss, and carries

on the religious businesses on his own account. He has no wholesale

trade like his Catholic brother-tradesman, but deals merely at retail;

and since he himself must understand it, he cannot be lazy. He must

praise his _articles of faith_ to the people and must disparage the

articles of his competitors. Like a true small trader he stands in his

retail store, full of envy of the industry of all large houses,

particularly the large house in Rome which has so many thousand

bookkeepers and packers on its payroll, and which owns factories in all

four corners of the world.”

In the face of this, as in many other examples, we can no longer dispute

the fact that a comparison may in itself be witty, and that the witty

impression need not necessarily depend on one of the known techniques of

wit. But we are entirely in the dark as to what determines the witty

character of the comparison, since it certainly does not cling to the

similarity as a form of expression of the thought, or to the operation

of the comparison. We can do nothing but include comparison with the

different forms of “indirect representation” which are at the disposal

of the technique of wit, and the problem, which confronted us more

distinctly in the mechanism of comparison than in the means of wit

hitherto treated, must remain unsolved. There must surely be a special

reason why the decision whether something is a witticism or not presents

more difficulties in cases of comparison than in other forms of

expression.

This gap in our understanding, however, offers no ground for complaint

that our first investigation has been unsuccessful. Considering the

intimate connection which we had to be prepared to ascribe to the

different types of wit, it would have been imprudent to expect that we

could fully explain this aspect of the problem before we had cast a

glance over the others. We shall have to take up this problem at another

place.

_Review of the Techniques of Wit_

Are we sure that none of the possible techniques of wit has escaped our

investigation? Not exactly; but by a continued examination of new

material, we can convince ourselves that we have become acquainted with

the most numerous and most important technical means of wit-work—at

least with as much as is necessary for formulating a judgment about the

nature of this psychic process. At present no such judgment exists; on

the other hand, we have come into possession of important indications,

from the direction of which we may expect a further explanation of the

problem. The interesting processes of condensation with substitutive

formation, which we have recognized as the nucleus of the technique of

word-wit, directed our attention to the dream-formation in whose

mechanism the identical psychic processes were discovered. Thither also

we are directed by the technique of the thought-wit, namely

displacement, faulty thinking, absurdity, indirect expression, and

representation through the opposite—each and all are also found in the

technique of dreams. The dream is indebted to displacement for its

strange appearance, which hinders us from recognizing in it the

continuation of our waking thoughts; the dream’s use of absurdity and

contradiction has cost it the dignity of a psychic product, and has

misled the authors to assume that the determinants of dream-formation

are: collapse of mental activity, cessation of criticism, morality, and

logic. Representation through the opposite is so common in dreams that

even the popular but entirely misleading books on dream interpretation

usually put it to good account. Indirect expression, the substitution

for the dream-thought by an allusion, by a trifle or by a symbolism

analogous to comparison, is just exactly what distinguishes the manner

of expression of the dream from our waking thoughts.[36] Such a

far-reaching agreement as found between the means of wit-work and those

of dream-work can scarcely be accidental. To show those agreements in

detail and to trace their motivations will be one of our future tasks.

III

THE TENDENCIES OF WIT[37]

Near the end of the preceding chapter as I was writing down Heine’s

comparison of the Catholic priest to an employee of a large business

house, and the comparison of the Protestant divine to an independent

retail dealer, I felt an inhibition which nearly prevented me from using

this comparison. I said to myself that among my readers probably there

would be some who hold in veneration not only religion, but also its

administration and administrators. These readers might take offense at

the comparison and get so wrought up about it that it would take away

all interest in the investigation as to whether the comparison seemed

witty in itself or was witty only through its garnishings. In other

examples, e.g., the one mentioned above concerning the agreeable

moonlight shed by a certain philosophy, there would be no worry that for

some readers it might be a disturbing influence in our investigation.

Even the most religious person would remain in the right mood to form a

judgment about our problem.

It is easy to guess the character of the witticism by the kind of

reaction that wit exerts on the hearer. Sometimes wit is wit for its own

sake and serves no other particular purpose; then again, it places

itself at the service of such a purpose, i.e., it becomes purposive.

Only that form of wit which has such a tendency runs the risk of

ruffling people who do not wish to hear it.

Theo. Vischer called wit without a tendency “_abstract_” wit, I prefer

to call it “_harmless_” wit.

As we have already classified wit according to the material touched by

its technique into word- and thought-wit, it is incumbent upon us to

investigate the relation of this classification to the one just put

forward. Word- and thought-wit on the one hand, and abstract- and

tendency-wit on the other hand, bear no relation of dependence to each

other; they are two entirely independent classifications of witty

productions. Perhaps some one may have gotten the impression that

harmless witticisms are preponderately word-witticisms, whereas the

complicated techniques of thought-witticisms are mostly made to serve

strong tendencies. There are harmless witticisms that operate through

play on words and sound similarity, and just as harmless ones which make

use of all means of thought-wit. Nor is it less easy to prove that

tendency-wit as far as technique is concerned may be merely the wit of

words. Thus, for example, witticisms that “_play_” with proper names

often show an insulting and offending tendency, and yet they, too,

belong to word-wit. Again, the most harmless of all jests are

word-witticisms. Examples of this nature are the popular “shake-up”

rhymes (Schüttelreime) in which the technique is represented through the

manifold application of the same material with a very peculiar

modification:

“Having been forsaken by _Dame Luck_, he degenerated into a _Lame

Duck_.”

Let us hope that no one will deny that the pleasure experienced in this

kind of otherwise unpretentious rhyming is of the same nature as the one

by which we recognize wit.

Good examples of abstract or harmless thought-witticisms abound in

Lichtenberg’s comparisons with which we have already become acquainted.

I add a few more. “_They sent a small Octavo to the University of

Göttingen; and received back in body and soul a quarto_” (a fourth-form

boy).

“_In order to erect this budding well, one must lay above all things a

good foundation, and I know of no firmer than by laying immediately over

every pro-layer a contra-layer._”

“_One man begets the thought, the second acts as its godfather, the

third begets children by it, the fourth visits it on its death-bed, and

the fifth buries it_” (comparison with unification).

“_Not only did he disbelieve in ghosts, but he was not ever afraid of

them._” The witticism in this case lies exclusively in the absurd

representation which puts what is usually considered less important in

the comparative and what is considered more important in the positive

degree. If we divest it of its dress it says: it is much easier to use

our reason and make light of the fear of ghosts than to defend ourselves

against this fear when the occasion presents itself. But this rendering

is no longer witty; it is merely a correct and still too little

respected psychological fact suggesting what Lessing expresses in his

well-known words:

“Not all are free who mock their chains.”

_Harmless and Tendency Wit_

I shall take the opportunity presented here of clearing up what may

still lead to a possible misunderstanding. “Harmless” or “abstract” wit

should in no way convey the same meaning as “shallow” or “poor” wit. It

is meant only to designate the opposite of the “tendency” wit to be

described later. As shown in the aforementioned examples, a harmless

jest, i.e., a witticism without a tendency, can also be very rich in

content and express something worth while. The quality of a witticism,

however, is independent of the wit and represents the quality of the

thought which is here expressed wittily by means of a special

contrivance. To be sure, just as watch-makers are wont to enclose very

good works in valuable cases, so it may likewise happen with wit that

the best witty activities are used to invest the richest thoughts.

Now, if we pay strict attention to the distinction between

thought-content and the witty wording of thought-wit, we arrive at an

insight which may clear up much uncertainty in our judgment of wit. For

it turns out—astonishing as it may seem—that our enjoyment of a

witticism is supplied by the combined impression of content and

wit-activity, and that one of the factors is likely to deceive us about

the extent of the other. It is only the reduction of the witticism that

lays bare to us our mistaken judgment.

The same thing applies to word-wit. When we hear that “_experience

consists simply of experiencing what one wishes he had not

experienced_,” we are puzzled, and believe that we have learnt a new

truth; it takes some time before we recognize in this disguise the

platitude, “adversity is the school of wisdom” (K. Fischer). The

excellent wit-activity which seeks to define “experience” by the almost

exclusive use of the word “experience” deceives us so completely that we

overestimate the content of the sentence. The same thing happens in many

similar cases and also in Lichtenberg’s unification-witticism about

January (p. 89), which expresses nothing but what we already know,

namely, that New Year’s wishes are as seldom realized as other wishes.

We find the contrary true of other witticisms, in which obviously what

is striking and correct in the thought captivates us, so that we call

the saying an excellent witticism, whereas it is only the thought that

is brilliant while the wit-activity is often weak. It is especially true

of Lichtenberg’s wit that the path of the thought is often of more value

than its witty expression, though we unjustly extend the value of the

former to the latter. Thus the remark about the “torch of truth” (p.

115) is hardly a witty comparison, but it is so striking that we are

inclined to lay stress on the sentence as exceptionally witty.

Lichtenberg’s witticisms are above all remarkable for their

thought-content and their certainty of hitting the mark. Goethe has

rightly remarked about this author that his witty and jocose thoughts

positively conceal problems. Or perhaps it may be more correct to say

that they touch upon the solutions of problems. When, for example, he

presents as a witty thought:

“He always read _Agamemnon_ instead of the German word _angenommen_, so

thoroughly had he read Homer” (technically this is absurdity plus sound

similarity of words). Thus he discovered nothing less than the secret of

mistakes in reading.[38] The following joke, whose technique (p. 78)

seemed to us quite unsatisfactory, is of a similar nature.

“_He was surprised that there were two holes cut in the pelts of cats

just where the eyes were located._” The stupidity here exhibited is only

seemingly so; in reality this ingenuous remark conceals the great

problem of teleology in the structure of animals; it is not at all so

self-evident that the eyelid cleft opens just where the cornea is

exposed, until the science of evolution explains to us this coincidence.

Let us bear in mind that a witty sentence gave us a general impression

in which we were unable to distinguish the amount of thought-content

from the amount of wit-work; perhaps even a more significant parallel to

it will be found later.

_Pleasure Results from the Technique_

For our theoretical explanation of the nature of wit, harmless wit must

be of greater value to us than tendency-wit and shallow wit more than

profound wit. Harmless and shallow plays on words present to us the

problem of wit in its purest form, because of the good sense therein and

because there is no purposive factor nor underlying philosophy to

confuse the judgment. With such material our understanding can make

further progress.

_At the end of a dinner to which I had been invited, a pastry called

Roulard was served; it was a culinary accomplishment which presupposed a

good deal of skill on the part of the cook. “Is it home-made?” asked one

of the guests. “Oh, yes,” replied the host, “it is a Home-Roulard”_

(Home Rule).

This time we shall not investigate the technique of this witticism, but

shall center our attention upon another, and that one the most important

factor. As I remember, this improvised joke delighted all the guests and

made us laugh. In this case, as in countless others, the feeling of

pleasure of the hearer cannot have originated from any purposive element

nor the thought-content of the wit; so we are forced to connect the

feeling of pleasure with the technique of wit. The technical means of

wit which we have described, such as condensation, displacement,

indirect expression, etc., have therefore the faculty to produce a

feeling of pleasure in the hearer, although we cannot as yet see how

they acquired that faculty. By such easy stages we get the second axiom

for the explanation of wit; the first one (p. 17) states that the

character of wit depends upon the mode of expression. Let us remember

also that the second axiom has really taught us nothing new. It merely

isolates a fact that was already contained in a discovery which we made

before. For we recall that whenever it was possible to reduce the wit by

substituting for its verbal expression another set of words, at the same

time carefully retaining the sense, it not only eliminated the witty

character but also the laughableness (_Lacheffekt_) that constitutes the

pleasure of wit.

At present we cannot go further without first coming to an understanding

with our philosophical authorities.

The philosophers who adjudge wit to be a part of the comic and deal with

the latter itself in the field of æsthetics, characterize the æsthetic

presentation by the following conditions: that we are not thereby

interested in or about the objects, that we do not need these objects to

satisfy our great wants in life, but that we are satisfied with the mere

contemplation of the same, and with the pleasure of the thought itself.

“This pleasure, this mode of conception is purely æsthetical, it depends

entirely on itself, its end is only itself and it fulfills no other end

in life” (K. Fischer, p. 68).

We scarcely venture a contradiction to K. Fischer’s words—perhaps we

merely translate his thoughts into our own mode of expression—when we

insist that the witty activity is, after all, not to be designated as

aimless or purposeless, since it has for its aim the evocation of

pleasure in the hearer. I doubt whether we are able to undertake

anything which has no object in view. When we do not use our psychic

apparatus for the fulfillment of one of our indispensable

gratifications, we let it work for pleasure, and we seek to derive

pleasure from its own activity. I suspect that this is really the

condition which underlies all æsthetic thinking, but I know too little

about æsthetics to be willing to support this theory. About wit,

however, I can assert, on the strength of the two impressions gained

before, that it is an activity whose purpose is to derive pleasure—be it

intellectual or otherwise—from the psychic processes. To be sure, there

are other activities which accomplish the same thing. They may be

differentiated from each by the sphere of psychic activity from which

they wish to derive pleasure, or perhaps by the methods which they use

in accomplishing this. At present we cannot decide this, but we firmly

maintain that at last we have established a connection between the

technique of wit partly controlled by the tendency to economize (p. 53)

and the production of pleasure.

But before we proceed to solve the riddle of how the technical means of

wit-work can produce pleasure in the hearer, we wish to mention that,

for the sake of simplicity and more lucidity, we have altogether put out

of the way all tendency-witticisms. Still we must attempt to explain

what the tendencies of wit are and in what manner wit makes use of these

tendencies.

_Hostile and Obscene Wit_

We are taught above all by an observation not to put aside the

tendency-wit when we are investigating the origin of the pleasure in

wit. The pleasurable effect of harmless wit is usually of a moderate

nature; all that it can be expected to produce in the hearer is a

distinct feeling of satisfaction and a slight ripple of laughter; and as

we have shown by fitting examples (p. 132) at least a part of this

effect is due to the thought-content. The sudden irresistible outburst

of laughter evoked by the tendency-wit rarely follows the wit without a

tendency. As the technique may be identical in both, it is fair to

assume that by virtue of its purpose, the tendency-wit has at its

disposal sources of pleasure to which harmless wit has no access.

It is now easy to survey wit-tendencies. Wherever wit is not a means to

its end, i. e., harmless, it puts itself in the service of but two

tendencies which may themselves be united under one viewpoint; it is

either _hostile_ wit serving as an aggression, satire, or defense, or it

is _obscene_ wit serving as a sexual exhibition. Again it is to be

observed that the technical form of wit—be it a word- or

thought-witticism—bears no relation to these two tendencies.

It is a much more complicated matter to show in what way wit serves

these tendencies. In this investigation I wish to present first not the

hostile but the exhibition wit. The latter has indeed very seldom been

deemed worthy of an investigation, as if an aversion had transferred

itself here from the material to the subject; however, we shall not

allow ourselves to be misled thereby, for we shall soon touch upon a

detail in wit which promises to throw light on more than one obscure

point.

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