Can Death and Humor mix? Judge for yourself:
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Thurber on humor:
"[Humor is] a kind of emotional chaos told about calmly and quietly in retrospect."
"Well, someone once wrote a definition of the difference between English and American humor... I thought his definition was very good. He said that the English treat the commonplace as if it were remarkable and the Americans treat the remarkable as if it were commonplace. I believe that's true of humorous writing."
"This drawing (Touche'!) was originally done for New Yorker by Carl Rose, caption and all. Mr Rose is a realistic artist. and his gory scene distressed the editors, who hate violence. They asked Rose if he could let me have the idea, since obviously there is no blood to speak of in the people I draw. Rose graciously consented. No one who looks at Touche'! believes that the man whose head is in the air is really dead. His opponent will hand it back to him with profuse apologies, and the discommoded fencer will replace it on his shoulders and say: "No harm done, forget it!"Thus the old controversy as to whether death can be made funny is left where it was before Carl Rose came up with his wonderful idea..."
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Dorothy Parker: Tombstones in Starlight:
The Very Rich Man
He'd have the best, and that was none too good;
No barrier could hold, before his terms.
He lies below, correct in cypress wood,
And entertains the most exclusive worms.
The Actress
Her name, cut clear upon this marble cross,
Shines, as it shone when she was still on earth;
While tenderly the wild, agreeable moss
Obscures the figures of her date of birth.
He'd have the best, and that was none too good;
No barrier could hold, before his terms.
He lies below, correct in cypress wood,
And entertains the most exclusive worms.
The Actress
Her name, cut clear upon this marble cross,
Shines, as it shone when she was still on earth;
While tenderly the wild, agreeable moss
Obscures the figures of her date of birth.
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Sam Weller:
"There's nothin' so refreshin' as sleep, sir, as the servant-girl said afore she drank the egg-cupful o' laudanum."
"It's over, and can't be helped, and that's one consolation, as they alway say in Turkey, ven they cuts the wrong man's head off."
"Business first, pleasure arterwards, as King Richard the Third said wen he stabbed t'other king in the Tower, afore he smothered the babbies."
"Werry sorry to 'casion any personal inconvenience, ma'am, as the house-breaker said to the old lady when he put her on the fire...."
". . . now we look compact and comfortable, as the father said ven he cut his little boy's head off, to cure him o' squintin'."
". . . I'm pretty tough, that's vun consolation, as the wery old turkey remarked wen the farmer said he was afeered he should be obliged to kill him for the London market."
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Nursery Rhymes
Hush a bye baby, on the tree top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock;
When the bow breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.
When the wind blows the cradle will rock;
When the bow breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.
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Jerome K Jerome:
"Everything has a flip side as when the mother-in-law died and they came down for funeral expenses" (inexact quote)
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Autocrat:
Rudolph, professor of the headsman's trade,
Alike was famous for his arm and blade.
One day a prisoner Justice had to kill
Knelt at the block to test the artist's skill.
Bare-armed, swart-visaged, gaunt, and shaggy-browed,
Rudolph the headsman rose above the crowd.
His falchion lightened with a sudden gleam,
As the pike's armor flashes in the stream.
He sheathed his blade; he turned as if to go;
The victim knelt, still waiting for the blow.
"Why strikest not? Perform thy murderous act,"
The prisoner said. (His voice was slightly cracked.)
"Friend I HAVE struck," the artist straight replied;
"Wait but one moment, and yourself decide."
He held his snuff-box,--"Now then, if you please!"
The prisoner sniffed, and, with a crashing sneeze,
Off his head tumbled,--bowled along the floor,
- Bounced down the steps;--the prisoner said no more!
Woman! thy falchion is a glittering eye;
If death lurks in it, oh, how sweet to die!
Thou takest hearts as Rudolph took the head;
We die with love, and never dream we're dead!
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Mark Twain:
"It is a solemn thought: dead, the noblest man's meat is inferior to pork".
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RKN in his autobiography "My Days" comes close to treating (his wife's) death in a lighter vein, albeit in a solemn manner:
ReplyDelete"More painful than the bereavement was the suggestion from well-meaning but foolish men that I should remarry sooner or later. When someone spoke thus, I spat fire at them. I had had a Tamil pandit at college who met me at the market-place and said, 'Lost your wife? How dreadful! You must remarry soon. When old clothes are gone, you have to buy new ones. When she has left you without a thought, why should you care?' He spoke as if my wife had deserted me. Many searing retorts welled up within me, but I suppressed them. A lawyer in our street peeped over our gate to say, 'Sorry, mister. I have also suffered the same fate. You must and will get over it.' He had lost four wives in his matrimonial career and remarried each time, but at the moment was again a widower. 'Your solution does not seem to have worked in your case.' I wanted to say, but again swallowed my remarks."
It takes all the courage (in the face of bereavement, or even in the memory of bereavement) and sense of humour of an RKN to come up with such a term as "matrimonial career"!