Walrus & the Carpenter

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One of my earlier blogposts elicited a Comment which has this sentence:

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"Humor and quality wit have surpassed all boundaries of the man-woman empowerment conflict".

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Watch this closely: Humor is different from Wit. And there is a 'quality wit' as opposed to say, 'quantity wit'.

By general agreement humor and wit are as different as rose and the thorn.

Wit is like a wise-crack. Humor is like a joke.

Both elicit laughter in the audience or readers.

Both are aimed at some person or a holy cow or some notion.

Wit induces laughter in everyone except the 'laughed-at'. Humor is supposed to induce laughter in everyone including its victim.

Wit pulls down someone to the level of the audience. Humor lifts the audience up.

Wit wounds with a sickle. Humor tickles with the same sickle.

Wit is like a piercing ray of light in a darkened room. Humor is like the warm glow of diffused light.

Mark Twain was a celebrated Wit, sparing none. His peers avoided him.

Thurber was the humorist who was liked by everyone.

Wit has an element of 'superior intellect'.

Humor has an element of 'self-deprecation'.

But the borderline is subtle and not rigidly drawn.

Hence the term 'quality wit', which dilutes wit to bring it closer to humor and is not 'hurting'.

RKN was a humorist, while Nirad Choudhury was a pungent wit.

But basically both are aimed at poking fun and pulling legs of someone or something 'bombastic'.

Professor X at KGP sponsored Professor Y's 'invited talk' for the well-known reason: 'you scratch my back and I will scratch yours'.

Myself and DB were as usual backbenchers watching the fun in our Seminar Room.

In the Q&A Session, Professor X asked his Guest, Professor Y, a 'serious technical question'.

Professor Y started replying: "I too was puzzled by this question, before I realized what a damn fool I was!"

Everyone in the audience thought how humble Professor Y was!

But Professor X's red face turned vermilion.

DB turned to me and whispered: "You South-Indian Brahmin B******s!

I smilingly raised my collar.

In the end both the Wit and the Humorist are like the famous Walrus & the Carpenter:


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"I weep for you," the Walrus said.
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size.
Holding his pocket handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter.
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?"
But answer came there none--
And that was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.'


'I like the Walrus best,' said Alice: 'because you see he was a LITTLE sorry for the poor oysters.'

'He ate more than the Carpenter, though,' said Tweedledee. 'You see he held his handkerchief in front, so that the Carpenter couldn't count how many he took: contrariwise.'

'That was mean!' Alice said indignantly. 'Then I like the Carpenter best--if he didn't eat so many as the Walrus.'

'But he ate as many as he could get,' said Tweedledum.


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