I wonder how far that's true.
AVI has written a good deal on humor not aging well, and that may be related--the jester is putting together something temporary. That could get hard on you (as the title Treadmill to Oblivion suggests).
I generally do pretty well adding light humor to a conversation, and provide my share of Dad jokes, but if you corner me and say "Tell a joke" the headlights glare in this poor deer's eyes.
And I've found that after the conversation, no matter how many bon mots flew, I rarely remember any of them. They were things of the moment: yes, apples of gold in pictures of silver, but maybe more like unkeepable manna than actual gold.
I hesitate to draw conclusions from this: some people have written enduring humor. But a lot of times humor doesn't keep well, or translate well. In good conversation it doesn't have to, because for the moment it's alive. I wonder how much of our humor is taking these evanescent butterflies and tying windup motors to them to make them show up when I want them to.
2 comments:
There was a pop culture reference in Plautus' Bacchides that has faded not only into obscurity but into oblivion.
On the one hand, much necessary human labor is in putting together something beautiful but temporary: that is the work of preparing meals, for example. It must be done every day, or nearly so; and if it is not done well, life is far less happy. This may be just one more task of that sort.
On the other hand, there may be universals and worthy virtues at work behind that daily labor. We will be getting to friendship later in the reading of Aristotle; he considers it one of the great virtues to be good at friendship, which includes being capable of generating and appreciating wit. The joke may not last, but the quality of character you develop may be a sturdy good.
Post a Comment