other means; they destroy the uniformity between the attributes of
persons familiar to us and their speech and actions; by replacing
either the illustrious persons or their utterances by lowly ones.
Therein they differ from caricature, but not through the mechanism of
the production of the comic pleasure. The same mechanism also holds
true in _unmasking_, which comes into consideration only where some
one has attached to himself dignity and authority which in reality
should be taken from him. We have seen the comic effect of unmasking
through several examples of wit, for example, in the story of the
fashionable lady who in her first labor-pains cries: “Ah, mon Dieu!”
but to whom the physician paid no attention until she screamed:
“A-a-a-ai-e-e-e-e-e-e-E-E-E!” Being now acquainted with the character
of the comic, we can no longer dispute that this story is really an
example of comical unmasking and has no just claim to the term
witticism. It recalls wit only through the setting, through the
technical means of “representation through a trifle”; here it is the
cry which was found sufficient to indicate the point. The fact
remains, however, that our feeling for the niceties of speech, when we
call on it for judgment, does not oppose calling such a story a
witticism. We can find the explanation for this in the reflection that
usage of speech does not enter scientifically into the nature of wit
so far as we have evolved it by means of this painstaking examination.
As it is a function of the activities of wit to reopen hidden sources
of comic pleasure (p. 150), every artifice which does not bring to
light barefaced comic may in looser analogy be called a witticism.
This is especially true in the case of unmasking, though in other
methods of comic-making the appellation also holds good.[73]
In the mechanism of “unmasking” one can also utilize those processes of
comic-making already known to us which degrade the dignity of
individuals in that they call attention to one of the common human
frailties, but particularly to the dependence of his mental functions
upon physical needs. Unmasking them becomes equivalent to the reminder:
This or that one who is admired like a demigod is only a human being
like you and me after all. Moreover, all efforts in this mechanism serve
to lay bare the monotonous psychic automatism which is behind wealth and
apparent freedom of psychic achievements. We have become acquainted with
examples of such “unmasking” through the witticisms dealing with
marriage agents, and at that time to be sure we felt doubt whether we
could rightly count these stories as wit. Now we can decide with more
certainty that the anecdote of the echo who reinforces all assertions of
the marriage agent and in the end reinforces the latter’s admission that
the bride has a hunch back with the exclamation “And what a hunch!” is
essentially a comic story, an example of the unmasking of the psychic
automatism. But here the comic story serves only as a façade; to any one
who wishes to note the hidden meaning of the marriage agent, the whole
remains a splendidly put together piece of wit. He who does not
penetrate so far sees only the comic story. The same is true of the
other witticism of the agent who, to refute an objection, finally
confirms the truth through the exclamation: “But who in the world would
lend them anything?” This is a comic unmasking which serves as a façade
for a witticism. Still the character of the wit is here quite evident,
as the speech of the agent is at the same time an expression through the
opposite. In trying to prove that the people are rich he proves at the
same time that they are not rich but very poor. Wit and the comic unite
here and teach us that a statement may be simultaneously witty and
comical.
We eagerly grasp the opportunity to return from the comic of unmasking
to wit, for our real task is to explain the relation between wit and
comic and not to determine the nature of the comic. Hence to the case of
uncovering the psychic automatism, wherein our feeling left us in doubt
as to whether the matter was comical or witty, we add another, the case
of nonsense-wit, wherein likewise wit and the comic fuse. But our
investigation will ultimately show us that in this second case the
meeting of wit and comic may be theoretically deduced.
In the discussion of the techniques of wit we have found that giving
free play to such modes of thinking as are common in the unconscious and
which in consciousness are conceived only as “faulty thinking,”
furnishes the technical means of a great many witticisms. We had then
doubted their witty character and were inclined to classify them simply
as comic stories. We could come to no decision regarding our uncertainty
because in the first place the real character of wit was not familiar to
us. Later we found this character by following the analogy to the
dream-work as to the compromise formed by the wit-work between the
demands of the rational critic and the impulse not to abandon the old
word-pleasure and nonsense-pleasure. What thus came into existence as a
compromise, when the foreconscious thought was left for a moment to
unconscious elaboration, satisfied both demands in all cases, but it
presented itself to the critic, in various forms and had to stand
various criticisms from it. In one case wit succeeded in surreptitiously
assuming the form of an unimportant but none the less admissible
proposition; a second time it smuggled itself into the expression of a
valuable thought. But within the outer limit of the compromise activity
it made no effort to satisfy the critic, and defiantly utilizing the
pleasure-sources at its disposal, it appeared before the critic as pure
nonsense. It had no fear of provoking contradiction because it could
rely on the fact that the hearer would decipher the disfigurement of the
expression through the operation of his unconscious and thus give back
to it its meaning.
Now in what case will wit appear to the critic as nonsense? Particularly
when it makes use of those modes of thought, which are common in the
unconscious, but forbidden in conscious thought; that is, when it
resorts to faulty thinking. Some of the modes of thinking, of the
unconscious, have also been retained in conscious thinking, for example,
many forms of indirect expression, allusions, etc., even though their
conscious use has to be much restricted. Using these techniques wit will
arouse little or no opposition on the part of the critic; but this only
happens when it also uses that technical means with which conscious
thought no longer cares to have anything to do. Wit can still further
avoid offending if it disguises the faulty thinking by investing it with
a semblance of logic as in the story of the fancy cake and liqueur,
salmon with mayonnaise, and similar ones. But should it present the
faulty thinking undisguised, the critic is sure to protest.
_The Meeting of Wit and the Comic_
In this case, something else comes to the aid of wit. The faulty
thinking, which as a form of thinking of the unconscious, wit utilizes
for its technique, appears comical to the critic, although this is not
necessarily the case. The conscious giving of free play to the
unconscious and to those forms of thinking which are rejected as faulty,
furnishes a means for the production of comic pleasure. This can be
easily understood, as a greater expenditure is surely needed for the
production of the foreconscious investing energy than for the giving of
free play to the unconscious. When we hear the thought which is formed
like one from the unconscious we compare it to its correct form, and
this results in a difference of expenditure which gives origin to comic
pleasure. A witticism which makes use of such faulty thinking as its
technique and therefore appears absurd can produce a comic impression at
the same time. If we do not strike the trail of the wit, there remains
to us only the comic or funny story.
The story of the borrowed kettle, which showed a hole on being returned,
whereupon the borrower excused himself by stating that in the first
place he had not borrowed the kettle; secondly, that it already had a
hole when he borrowed it; and thirdly, that he had returned it intact
without any hole (p. 82), is an excellent example of a purely comic
effect through giving free play to one’s unconscious modes of thinking.
Just this mutual neutralization of several thoughts, each of which is
well motivated in itself, is the province of the unconscious.
Corresponding to this, the dream in which the unconscious thoughts
become manifest, also shows an absence of either—or.[74] These are
expressed by putting the thoughts next to one another. In that dream
example given in my _Interpretation of Dreams_,[75] which in spite of
its complication I have chosen as a type of the work of interpretation,
I seek to rid myself of the reproach that I have not removed the pains
of a patient by psychic treatment. My arguments are: 1. she is herself
to blame for her illness, because she does not wish to accept my
solution, 2. her pains are of organic origin, therefore none of my
concern, 3. her pains are connected with her widowhood, for which I am
certainly not to blame, 4. her pains resulted from an injection with a
dirty syringe, which was given by another. All these motives follow one
another just as though one did not exclude the other. In order to escape
the reproach that it was nonsense I had to insert the words “either—or”
instead of the “and” of the dream.
_A similar comical story is the one which tells of a blacksmith in a
Hungarian village who has committed a crime punishable by death; the
bürgomaster, however, decreed that not the smith but a tailor was to be
hanged, as there were two tailors in the village but only one
blacksmith, and the crime had to be expiated._ Such a displacement of
guilt from one person to another naturally contradicts all laws of
conscious logic, but in no ways the mental trends of the unconscious. I
am in doubt whether to call this story comic, and still I put the story
of the kettle among the witticisms. Now I admit that it is far more
correct to designate the latter as comic rather than witty. But now I
understand how it happens that my feelings, usually so reliable, can
leave me in the lurch as to whether this story be comic or witty. The
case in which I cannot come to a conclusion through my feelings is the
one in which the comic results through the uncovering of modes of
thought which exclusively belong to the unconscious. A story of that
kind can be comic and witty at the same time; but it will impress me as
being witty even if it be only comic, because the use of the faulty
thinking of the unconscious reminds me of wit, just as in the case of
the arrangements for the uncovering of the hidden comic discussed before
(p. 325).
I must lay great stress upon making clear this most delicate point of my
analysis, namely, the relation of wit to the comic, and will therefore
supplement what has been said with some negative statements. First of
all, I call attention to the fact that the case of the meeting of wit
and comic treated here (p. 327) is not identical with the preceding one.
I grant it is a fine distinction, but it can be drawn with certainty. In
the preceding case the comic originated from the uncovering of the
psychic automatism. This is in no way peculiar to the unconscious alone
and it does not at all play a conspicuous part in the technique of wit.
Unmasking appears only accidentally in relation with wit, in that it
serves another technique of wit, namely, representation through the
opposite. But in the case of giving free play to unconscious ways of
thinking the union of wit and comic is an essential one, because the
same method which is used by the first person in wit as the technique of
releasing pleasure will naturally produce comic pleasure in the third
person.
We might be tempted to generalize this last case and seek the relation
of wit to the comic in the fact that the effect of wit upon the third
person follows the mechanism of comic pleasure. But there is no question
about that; contact with the comic is not in any way found in all nor
even in most witticisms; in most cases wit and the comic can be cleanly
separated. As often as wit succeeds in escaping the appearance of
absurdity, which is to say in most witticisms of double meaning or of
allusion, one cannot discover any effect in the hearer resembling the
comic. One can make the test with examples previously cited or with some
new ones given here.
Congratulatory telegram to be sent to a gambler on his 70th birthday.
“_Trente et quarante_”[76] (word-division with allusion).
Madame de _Maintenon_ was called Madame de _Maintenant_ (modification of
a name).
We might further believe that at least all jokes with nonsense façades
appear comical and must impress us as such. But I recall here the fact
that such witticisms often have a different effect on the hearer,
calling forth confusion and a tendency to rejection (see footnote, p.
212). Therefore it evidently depends whether the nonsense of the wit
appears comical or common plain nonsense, and the conditions for this we
have not yet investigated. Accordingly we hold to the conclusion that
wit, judging by its nature, can be separated from the comic, and that it
unites with it on the one hand only in certain special cases, on the
other in the tendency to gain pleasure from intellectual sources.
In the course of these examinations concerning the relations of wit and
the comic there revealed itself to us that distinction which we must
emphasize as most significant, and which at the same time points to a
psychologically important characteristic of the comic. We had to
transfer to the unconscious the source of wit-pleasure; there is no
occasion which can be discovered for the same localization of the comic.
On the contrary all analyses which we have made thus far indicate that
the source of comic pleasure lies in the comparison of two expenditures,
both of which we must adjudge to the foreconscious. Wit and the comic
can above all be differentiated in the psychic localization; _wit is, so
to speak, the contribution to the comic from the sphere of the
unconscious_.
_Comic of Imitation_
We need not blame ourselves for digressing from the subject, for the
relation of wit to the comic is really the occasion which urged us to
the examination of the comic. But it is time for us to return to the
point under discussion, to the treatment of the means which serve to
produce the comic. We have advanced the discussion of caricature and
unmasking, because from both of them we can borrow several points of
similarity for the analysis of the comic of _imitation_. Imitation is
mostly replaced by caricature, which consists in the exaggeration of
certain otherwise not striking traits, and also bears the character of
degradation. Still this does not seem to exhaust the nature of
imitation; it is incontestable that in itself it represents an
extraordinarily rich source of comic pleasure, for we laugh particularly
over faithful imitations. It is not easy to give a satisfactory
explanation of this if we do not accept Bergson’s view,[77] according to
which the comic of imitation is put next to the comic produced by
uncovering the psychic automatism. Bergson believes that everything
gives a comic impression which manifests itself in the shape of a
machine-like inanimate movement in the human being. His law is that “the
attitudes, gestures, and movements of the human body are laughable in
exact proportion as that body reminds us of a mere machine.” He explains
the comic of imitation by connecting it with a problem formulated by
Pascal in his _Thoughts_, why is it that we laugh at the comparison of
two faces that are alike although neither of them excites laughter by
itself. “The truth is that a really living life should never repeat
itself. Wherever there is repetition or complete similarity, we always
suspect some mechanism at work behind the living.” Analyze the
impression you get from two faces that are too much alike, and you will
find that you are thinking of two copies cast in the same mould, or two
impressions of the same soul, or two reproductions of the same
negative,—in a word, of some manufacturing process or other. This
deflection of life towards the mechanical is here the real cause of
laughter (l. c., p. 34). We might say, it is the degradation of the
human to the mechanical or inanimate. If we accept these winning
arguments of Bergson, it is moreover not difficult to subject his view
to our own formula. Taught by experience that every living being is
different and demands a definite amount of expenditure from our
understanding, we find ourselves disappointed when, as a result of a
perfect agreement or deceptive imitation, we need no new expenditure.
But we are disappointed in the sense of being relieved, and the
expenditure of expectation which has become superfluous is discharged
through laughter. The same formula will also cover all cases of comic
rigidity considered by Bergson, such as professional habits, fixed
ideas, and modes of expression which are repeated on every occasion. All
these cases aim to compare the expenditure of expectation with what is
commonly required for the understanding, whereby the greater expectation
depends on observation of individual variety and human plasticity. Hence
in imitation the source of comic pleasure is not the comic of situation
but that of expectation.
As we trace the comic pleasure in general to comparison, it is incumbent
upon us to investigate also the comic element of the comparison itself,
which likewise serves as a means of producing the comic. Our interest in
this question will be enhanced when we recall that in the case of
comparison the “feeling” as to whether something was to be classed as
witty or merely comical often left us in the lurch (v. p. 114).
The subject really deserves more attention than we can bestow upon it.
The main quality for which we ask in comparison is whether it is
pertinent, that is, whether it really calls our attention to an existing
agreement between two different objects. The original pleasure in
refinding the same thing (Groos, p. 103) is not the only motive which
favors the use of comparison. Besides this there is the fact that
comparison is capable of a utilization which facilitates intellectual
work; when for example, as is usually the case, one compares the less
familiar to the more familiar, the abstract to the concrete, and
explains through this comparison the more strange and the more difficult
objects. With every such comparison, especially of the abstract to the
concrete, there is a certain degradation and a certain economy in
abstraction expenditure (in the sense of a conceptual mimicry) yet this
naturally does not suffice to render prominent the character of the
comic. The latter does not emerge suddenly from the freed pleasure of
the comparison but comes gradually; there are many cases which only
touch the comic, in which one might doubt whether they show the comic
character. The comparison undoubtedly becomes comical when the _niveau_
difference of the expenditure of abstraction between the two things
compared becomes increased, if something serious and strange, especially
of intellectual or moral nature is compared to something banal and
lowly. The former release of pleasure and the contribution from the
conditions of conceptual mimicry may perhaps explain the gradual
change—which is determined by quantitative relations,—from the
universally pleasurable to the comic, which takes place during the
comparison. I am certainly avoiding misunderstandings in that I
emphasize that I deduce the comic pleasure in the comparison, not from
the contrast of the two things compared but from the difference of the
two abstraction expenditures. The strange which is difficult to grasp,
the abstract and really intellectually sublime, through its alleged
agreement with a familiar lowly one, in the imagination of which every
abstraction expenditure disappears, is now itself unmasked as something
equally lowly. The comic of comparison thus becomes reduced to a case of
degradation.
The comparison, as we have seen above, can now be witty without a trace
of comic admixture, especially when it happens to evade the degradation.
Thus the comparison of Truth to a torch which one cannot carry through a
crowd without singeing somebody’s beard is pure wit, because it takes an
obsolete expression (“The torch of truth”) at its full value and not at
all in a comical sense, and because the torch as an object does not lack
a certain distinction, though it is a concrete object. However, a
comparison may just as well be witty as comic, and what is more one may
be independent of the other, in that the comparison becomes an aid for
certain techniques of wit, as, for example, unification or allusion.
Thus Nestroy’s comparison of memory to a “Warehouse” (p. 120) is
simultaneously comical and witty, first, on account of the extraordinary
degradation to which the psychological conception must consent in the
comparison to a “Warehouse,” and secondly, because he who utilizes the
comparison is a clerk, and in this comparison he establishes a rather
unexpected unification between psychology and his vocation. Heine’s
verse, “until at last the buttons tore from the pants of my patience,”
seems at first an excellent example of a comic degrading comparison, but
on closer reflection we must ascribe to it also the attribute of
wittiness, since the comparison as a means of allusion strikes into the
realm of the obscene and causes a release of pleasure from the obscene.
Through a union not altogether incidental the same material also gives
us a resultant pleasure which is at the same time comical and witty; it
does not matter whether or not the conditions of the one promote the
origin of the other, such a union acts confusingly on the “feeling”
whose function it is to announce to us whether we have before us wit or
the comic, and only a careful examination independent of the disposition
of pleasure can decide the question.
As tempting as it would be to trace these more intimate determinations
of comic pleasure, the author must remember that neither his previous
education nor his daily vocation justifies him in extending his
investigations beyond the spheres of wit, and he must confess that it is
precisely the subject of comic comparison which makes him feel his
incompetence.
We are quite willing to be reminded that many authors do not recognize
the clear notional and objective distinction between wit and comic, as
we were impelled to do, and that they classify wit merely as “the comic
of speech” or “of words.” To test this view let us select one example of
intentional and one of involuntary comic of speech and compare it with
wit. We have already mentioned before that we are in a good position to
distinguish comic from witty speech. “With a fork and with effort, his
mother pulled him out of the mess,” is only comical, but Heine’s verse
about the four castes of the population of Göttingen: “Professors,
students, Philistines, and cattle,” is exquisitely witty.
As an example of the intentional comic of speech I will take as a model
Stettenheim’s _Wippchen_. We call Stettenheim witty because he possesses
the cleverness that evokes the comic. The wit which one “has” in
contradistinction to the wit which one “makes,” is indeed correctly
conditioned by this ability. It is true that the letters of Wippchen are
also witty in so far as they are interspersed with a rich collection of
all sorts of witticisms, some of which very successful ones, (as
“festively undressed” when he speaks of a parade of savages), but what
lends the peculiar character to these productions is not these isolated
witticisms, but the superabundant flow of comic speech contained
therein. Originally _Wippchen_ was certainly meant to represent a
satirical character, a modification of Freytag’s Schmock, one of those
uneducated persons who trade in the educational treasure of the nation
and abuse it; but the pleasure in the comic effect experienced in
representing this person seems gradually to have pushed to the
background the author’s satirical tendency. Wippchen’s productions are
for the most part “comic nonsense.” The author has justly utilized the
pleasant mood resulting from the accumulation of such achievements to
present beside the altogether admissible material all sorts of
absurdities which would be intolerable in themselves. Wippchen’s
nonsense appears to be of a specific nature only on account of its
special technique. If we look closer into some of these “witticisms,” we
find that some forms which have impressed their character on the whole
production are especially conspicuous. Wippchen makes use mostly of
compositions (fusions), of modifications of familiar expressions and
quotations. He replaces some of the banal elements in these expressions
by others which are usually more pretentious and more valuable. This
naturally comes near to the techniques of wit.
_The Comic of Speech_