Page 83 - The Language of Humour

70 ‘CRIKEY, THAT’S A HARD ONE!’
about the death of Jesus: for anyone who holds this as sacred, this
degree of incongruity is offensive, not funny. Indeed, the purpose of the
piece is not light-hearted humour but an angry criticism. Formal limits
that are set on humour mean that such a piece is restricted to the relatively
private domain of an adult comedy club. (See Unit 8 for further
discussion on the limits on live comedy.)

The context for taboo-breaking humour

You have seen that various factors inf luence the response to humour:
the topic; whether the language is explicit or uses innuendo; whether it
is framed as fictional or real; the use of humorous devices, like
incongruity. What other factors can influence the audience to laugh or
not?
There are limits on the time and the place for humour. It is
conventional to find jokes in certain contexts: some joke formulas have
become running gags, like ‘x do it y’ which are popular on bumper
stickers. Other formulas are found on notices in workplaces and on
greetings cards. It is interesting that such double entendres are rarely
found on Christmas cards and never on Easter cards, or cards
commemorating the birth of a baby or expressing sympathy for death.
Certain taboos remain in force, yet occasionally humour pushes against
these boundaries.
People usually signal first that they are going to tell a joke, so that the
listeners are ready and willing to laugh. Sometimes this established
context—of joking—can override the actual content, so that people
laugh without taking time to decide whether they find it funny. This
may seem an extreme example of co-operation in conversation. But the
context can often determine whether something is received as
humorous. Roger McGough is known as a performer of humorous
poetry. He was doing a show in a theatre in Sheffield, each poem funnier
and more absurd than the last. As the laughter subsided from one, he
announced the next: ‘This one’s about a young woman who got raped
by a jogger.’ Laughter broke out in sections of the audience. ‘Is there
something funny about that?’ There was a ripple of uncertain laughter—
was his deadpan expression part of the joke? He was so offended by the
laughter that he was no longer the comedy poet but a headteacher,
lecturing a hall of kids on their appalling behaviour. The audience sat
silently through his serious poem, but were too nervous to laugh much
when he reverted to his usual comic style.