After reading several hilarious children’s books lately, I’ve started thinking about what makes writing funny. Of course, everyone has a slightly different sense of humour, and some people will laugh at one joke and some at another – but there are many things that a lot people will find funny. In books for younger children (middle grade and below), there’s often a lot of slapstick and toilet humour, which kids don’t seem to ever be able to get enough of. They find it hysterical when someone trips and falls into a swimming pool (so long as they don’t get hurt), or when someone farts, or when a character’s swimming trunks fall off in the pool. Or, better still – when they fart and then trip over and fall into the swimming pool, causing their swimming trunks to fall off as they hit the water!
But what else makes writing funny – and why do some writers seem to be better at getting ‘funny’ right, than others? I started analysing my favourite funny books, to try to get an idea of what it is that causes a piece of writing to make me smile or – if it’s really good – laugh out loud. What I learnt was that a lot of it seemed to be about two things – detail and incongruity.
So, what about detail? Well, there’s very little humour in a Christmas tree, for example – until you add some details. A Christmas tree that has a fairy on the top with a silly expression on its face, is so much funnier. And this brings me on to the second thing that I learnt – incongruity is funny, too. So, a Christmas tree fairy with a happy smile on its face isn’t that funny, because that’s what we expect. An angry Christmas tree fairy is funnier because it’s not only detail, it’s also incongruous. Similarly, animals exhibiting human characteristics – like dogs wearing hats – are much funnier than just dogs without hats (not that my dog would ever admit that, of course). A parent having a tantrum is much funnier than a parent who’s being sensible, and a King who sucks his thumb is much funnier than a King who just sits on his throne, doing all the usual ‘kingly’ things.
And these things can, of course, be combined. What’s funny about a King sitting on his throne, calmly giving orders to his servants while wearing clothes that haven’t been described, but are presumed to be there anyway? Nothing. On the other hand, what’s funny about a King sitting on a throne made out of an old toilet that’s been painted gold, while wearing a pair of pink striped pyjamas, and having a huge tantrum because the washing machine has torn up his favourite pair of underpants? Everything!
So, from now on I’m going to think about this a lot more, when I’m trying to inject some humour into my writing – and presumably with my hat-wearing dog sat beside me!
Catherine Rosevear 