The films of Bruno Dumont are tied to unwatchability, austerity, and a post-theological seriousness. Recently, however, Dumont has taken a surprising turn towards comedy; and yet these comedies are not without the post-theological despair that characterizes his earlier films. Taking Dumont's comedy seriously, this article frames Dumont's comedic turn not as a deviation but rather as a realignment that requires retroactive reconsideration of his oeuvre's post-theological orientation. We interrogate the philosophical implications of laughter in Dumont's work and argue (...) that it suggests a new trajectory for the post-theological project. The work of Georges Bataille anchors our analysis of violent laughter, while Jean-Luc Nancy's post-theology structures our central argument. We read Nancy's post-theology into the construction of space and subjectivity in Dumont's earlier works, which characterize both human characters and the landscapes they inhabit with a pervasive sense of depthlessness or blankness. These features of absence often lead spectators to project emotions onto Dumont's characters, but we stress this blankness as foregrounding the essential unknowingness of the subject – something which also drives Bataille's notion of laughter. For Bataille, laughter is rooted in nonknowledge, it is a non-productive expenditure that exposes the limits of human existence. It is this horizon of death and nothingness that drives Dumont's comedies. Understood through post-theological laughter, Dumont's comedic films and TV series provide new ways of accounting for the death of God. This laughter in turn operates retroactively to productively reframe post-theological violence in his work. In short, this article contends that none of Dumont's films are meant to be taken seriously. Confronting the ethical and philosophical implications of Dumont's comedic turn, this article investigates the implications of reading his oeuvre through this divinely absurdist, post-theological comedic lens and articulates a theory of post-theology that foregrounds the radicality of laughter. (shrink)

This article considers the normative and critical value of popular comedy. I begin by assembling and evaluating a range of political theory literature on comedy. I argue that popular comedy can be conducive to both critical and transformative democratic effects, but that these effects are contingent on the way comedic performances are received by audiences. I illustrate this by means of a case study of a comedic climate change ‘debate’ from the television show, Last Week Tonight. Drawing (...) from recent scholarship on deliberation, judgment and rhetoric, I highlight both critical and transformative dimensions of the performance. I attribute these to the vignette’s likely reception, which I describe as ‘dissonant’ – unresolved, affectively turbulent and aesthetically attuned. I argue that comedy is uniquely positioned to spur such ‘dissonant’ modes of engagement and, in so doing, to promote acknowledgement and reflective judgment. (shrink)

In Umberto Eco’s classic novel The Name of the Rose, we are introduced to a decidedly Platonic fear of laughter. According to the blind librarian Jorge de Burgos, “[l]aughter is weakness, corruption, the foolishness of our flesh. It is the peasant’s entertainment, the drunkard’s license;... laughter remains base, a defense for the simple, a mystery desecrated for the plebeians.”1 Laughter could not accompany insight or clarity or revelation. By destroying the last known copy of the second part of Aristotle’s Poetics, (...) which delves into comedy after the already-familiar investigation of tragedy, de Burgos hopes to undermine any argument that claims to find significance in comic content. Indeed, the central plot of... (shrink)

: I begin by asking, What is the underlying dynamic of comedy, its generic intention? I answer by testing each of several classic theories (plus two popular cliches) against a single, brief scene in Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest. Each of the first six sections subjects that scene to one of seven theories, in each case singling out an idea that seems convincing and discarding other ideas that do not. Illogical Logic explains the various means by which (...) the structure of a comedy reduces the characters to absurdity, thereby generating a Catharsis of wish and fear, analogous to Aristotle's tragic catharsis of pity and fear. (shrink)

La théorie de la tragédie de Hegel est à juste titre célèbre. Toutefois, le développement logique de l’art aboutit selon lui non à la tragédie mais à la comédie. Cet article compare ce que Hegel considère comme étant la véritable comédie (chez Aristophane et Shakespeare) et ce qu’il appelle « l’humour subjectif » (qu’il trouve, par exemple, chez Jean Paul) : alors que les humoristes manifestent liberté et maîtrise en se livrant à leurs fantaisies, les personnages comiques manifestent leur liberté (...) en se détachant des fantaisies par le fait que leurs objectifs insensés sont frustrés, tout en conservant leur inébranlable assurance au cœur même de leurs échecs. Dans cet article, j’aborde également les différentes formes de subjectivité comique identifiées par Hegel, telles que le fou qui rit ouvertement de lui-même (Falstaff), celui qui reconnaît sa folie sans rire de lui-même (Strepsiade), ou celui qui ne reconnaît pas sa folie mais reste irrépressiblement sûr de lui-même dans cette folie (Don Quichotte). J’explique ensuite pourquoi, selon Hegel, la comédie mène logiquement à la religion, et porte ainsi à son terme le développement conceptuel de l’art. Pour Hegel, le cœur de la véritable religion (qu’il identifie avec le christianisme) réside dans l’amour et le pardon, qui impliquent tous deux de se déprendre de soi-même et d’atteindre ainsi une liberté infinie « divine » dans le fini (et non dans un « au-delà » transcendant). Il est clair que les personnages comiques ne«s’abandonnent » pas jusqu’à la mort ; mais ils font pourtant signe vers un don de soi et un amour religieux en montrant qu’ils ne sont pas liés à leurs objectifs finis mais jouissent d’une liberté « divine » dans leur finitude, qui est toute humaine et souvent irréligieuse. (shrink)

In Comedy Incarnate, Noël Carroll surveys the characteristics of Buster Keaton’s unique visual style, to reveal the distinctive experience of watching Keaton’s films. Bold and provocative thesis written by one of America’s foremost film theorists Takes a unique look at the philosophies behind Keaton’s style Weighs visual elements over narrative form in the analysis of the Keaton’s work Provides a fresh vantage point for analysis of film and comedy itself.

This book is the first attempt to think philosophically about the comic phenomenon in literature, art, and life. Working across a substantial collection of comic works author Agnes Heller makes seminal observations on the comic in the work of both classical and contemporary figures. Whether she's discussing Shakespeare, Kafka, Rabelais, or the paintings of Brueghel and Daumier Heller's Immortal Comedy makes a characteristic contribution to modern thought across the humanities.

The article investigates a possible omission within Alenka Zupančič conceptualization of comedy as presented in her 2008 book The Odd One In: – on Comedy. The lack which this work will reveal lies in Slovenian philosopher’s neglect of the conditions of possibility of experiencing comedy, which – we claim – hinges upon happiness, a state forged and conditioned by a particular relation with the “other” (the primal object in psychoanalytical meaning). In order to execute such investigation, the (...) methodological tool, rooted in both the theories of comedy and psychoanalysis, will be introduced: the navel of thought. This notion will make use of the reasoning of Sigmund Freud and posit the existence of a symptomatic point within any theory of comedy, that is a point at which a certain incongruence of the theory plays out. It is only when we are equipped with the theoretical tool of the navel of the thought will we proceed to find such a point within Alenka Zupančič book. (shrink)

Les comédies à l’italienne des années 1958-1980 rejouent à leur façon les grands thèmes de la morale nietzschéenne, telle est l’hypothèse de cet article. À travers des oeuvres essentielles comme Le Fanfaron de Dino Risi, et La plus belle soirée de ma vie d’Ettore Scola, le fatalisme joyeux de ce courant cinématographique teste la méthode de l’inversion des valeurs, et engage une critique radicale du sacré et des morales de la dette. On ne lui reconnaîtra pas une portée nihiliste, mais (...) au contraire la reconnaissance des vertus de la finitude, affirmant l’amour modeste de l’existence terrestre, assumant son caractère tragique et sa puissance d’exister. Les personnages de la comédie italienne apparaissent ainsi comme des prototypes d’esprits libres, à la fois « minables » et surhumains, capables enfin de transmuter les valeurs. (shrink)

Dying is easy; comedy is hard. Comedy is sovereign. I begin with an excerpt from Bertolt Brecht’s Fugitive Conversations. Ziffel, a physicist, is chatting with the worker Kalle: For humor, I always think of the philosopher Hegel.... He had the makings of one of the greatest humorists among the philosophers.... I read his book The Great Logic once, when I had rheumatism and couldn’t move. It’s one of the greatest humorous works of world literature. It treats of the (...) way of life of concepts, those slippery, unstable, irresponsible existences; how they abuse one another and fight with knives and then sit down together to supper as though nothing had happened.... They can live... (shrink)

In this article, I investigate the ways in which improvisation occurs and works in stand-up comedy. I introduce a continuum model of composing and improvising and for understanding and classifying generative and nongenerative performances. The model reflects the fact that cognitive neuroscience research on creativity and improvisation provides evidence for the claim that composing and improvising are two species of the same genus (selective creation), and the differences between generative and nongenerative performance are not categorical but vague, admitting of (...) a continuum model. The model is applied to standard cases of stand-up comedy to illuminate the specific ways in which improvisation and composition are present in stand-up comedy, and the ways in which stand-up comedy performances are mixtures of generative and nongenerative elements. In addition, I address some of the reasons why such understanding is important and useful. (shrink)

This article reconstructs Gillian Rose's idea of ‘divine comedy’, from its first articulation in Hegel Contra Sociology (2009) to the development of the idea in later works; most importantly, Love’s Work (1995). This analysis demonstrates that Rose implicitly shifted away from her earlier, pessimistic, Hegelian account of the end of art and her insistence on the ‘severe style’. Divine comedy, it is argued, may satisfy the requirements that Rose articulates for speculative thought, by traversing the constitutive dichotomies of (...) modern life – for example, between universal and particular, or between law and love – in light of individual experience. By reading Love’s Work as an exemplary modern divine comedy, this article argues for the ongoing viability of the ‘ideal style’, which Rose had previously dismissed. This, in turn, suggests a novel reading of Rose's oeuvre and affirms the possibility of a speculative poetics. (shrink)

This article explores how media content may facilitate processes of recognition through playfulness and comedy. Mediated recognition is typically understood as a matter of respectful and positive representation of subaltern groups and in terms of struggles for visibility and dignity. Yet at the same time, the media address audiences in much less deferential ways that are nonetheless consequential to processes of recognition: by means of playfulness, subversion, and irreverence. This article introduces the concept of ‘playful recognition’ to account for (...) the contradictory ways in which humor can incite recognition. The article empirically illustrates this concept drawing upon a case study of Svart Humor – a comedy show aired in Norway. On the one hand, this article explores an important yet neglected dimension of mediated recognition, on the other, it introduces a recognition perspective to the study of televised comedy. (shrink)

A partir de la afirmación de S. Critchley de que el psicoanálisis es la prolongación, profundización y complicación de lo que él llama paradigma trágico-heroico , se trata de precisar que lo trágico es lo que hace inseparables la teoría y la experiencia psicoanalítica de la risa y los fenómenos ligados a ella. Esto, en general, ha sido insuficientemente indagado. Siguiendo estos argumentos, se presentan algunas observaciones en torno a esa especie de exhortación “volver a las cosas mismas”, tan afín (...) al método freudiano, al “uso” de lo trágico-heroico en Lacan, al concepto de Cosa al aporte de Freud al humor . Por otra parte, y en completa relación con lo anterior, se destacan algunos señalamientos lacanianos que ubican al “cuerpo” como central en la experiencia de lo cómico. Y por último, se examina la contraposición Bergson - Freud - Lacan en torno a la risa, lo mecánico y el lenguaje. (shrink)

This paper is an investigation of the role of comedy in philosophical thinking, particularly of how comedy reveals the erotic dimension of philosophical thinking.In the first half of the paper, I show that the relation between comedy and Eros is a powerful means to understand in what way philosophy is not technē. Philosophy in its erotic and comedic character is, rather, engaged with an appearing of things as ‘birthed’ or ‘living.’ In the second part of the paper, (...) I focus on the role of comedy in the Laches. There I study the complex relationship between philosophy as erotic thinking and andreia or ‘manliness.’ I show that philosophy as erotic must distinguish itself from manliness and that the enactment of this differentiation is the core of the Laches. At the same time, manliness is not simply something that philosophy should not concern itself with. Philosophy must ask the question ‘what is manliness?’ as a way of enacting manliness and overcoming it, in an overcoming through which philosophy comes to its own erotic core. (shrink)

This essay examines Carson’s The Trojan Women: A Comic, a 2021 translation of Euripides illustrated by Rosanna Bruno. Carson’s subtitle, through the intersection of classical and modern senses of “the comic” as a genre, demands that the reader ask of her book: What is the place of comedy in a comic about one of the bleakest plays in the Western canon? The comic elements of The Trojan Women reframe Euripides’ narrative and underscore, in a bitter irony, the disastrous impact (...) on the Greeks of the reconciliation of the gods Athena and Poseidon. (shrink)

In this article, jumping off from Geoffrey de Ste. Croix’s treatment of Aristophanes and the Megarian Decree, I argue that Old Comedy is an underutilised category of evidence for the study of the popular intellectual history of Athens. My particular focus here is the Athenian empire: how does Old Comedy present Athenian power and what does this comic presentation tell us about how at least some ordinary Athenians understood it? Can one popular Athenian imaginary of the empire be (...) constructed through analysis of Aristophanes and his contemporaries? I will argue that Old Comedy, taken as a corpus, presents a very Athenian empire, that is to say one focused on Athens and its exploitation of others. The comic poets, therefore, likely assumed parochialism and myopia on the part of their audience, but also significant topical interest in the mechanisms of Athenian power, particularly those which brought revenue to Athens. This impression of highly topical engagement with the empire is corroborated by bringing Comedy into dialogue with other sources, in particular the epigraphic record. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Comedy of Menander: Convention, Variation and OriginalityDavid KonstanZagagi, Netta. The Comedy of Menander: Convention, Variation and Originality. Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1995. 210 pp. Cloth, $39.95.In his comedies, Menander exploits a relatively limited range of characters and scenes. His achievement, as Netta Zagagi shows, lies in subtle variations on inherited formulas rather than in radical departures from them. As an example of Menander’s (...) art, Zagagi (32–33) cites the characterization of the young Moschion in Perikeiromene, who is gloriosior than Polemon, the love-sick miles. Again, Chrysis in Samia, because she acts in league with Moschion against his father, “represents a pattern of behaviour traditionally reserved for the character of the mother in comedy” (33). Behind these modifications and mergings of types, Zagagi sees an ethical motivation, best illustrated in Micio’s condemnation of his stepson’s behavior toward the woman he has raped; Terence’s Adelphi, based on Menander’s, is “the only play known to us in which any serious consideration is given to the problematic nature of the story pattern under review” (43). Surely Charisius’ soliloquy in Epitrepontes is another example. Zagagi’s reflections on Menander’s sensitivity to his personae, in contrast to Aristophanes’ delight in caricature (45), are fair enough. It is less clear that Menander differs significantly from the practice of other poets of New Comedy, as Zagagi suggests (32).In the second chapter, Zagagi explains Menander’s method of composition by invoking three principles or techniques that are fundamental to his plays: “polyphony,” “economy,” and “emphasis on human interaction.” These are catch-all terms. “Economy,” for example, refers to Menander’s restraint in the development of scenes that might have “diverted the spectator’s attention from the main subject” of an episode (60). The same term covers Menander’s ability to set out necessary information without undue repetition (62), as well as his thrifty use of devices such as Knemon’s bucket, which first gets dropped in the well and subsequently causes the misanthrope himself to fall in (64). Such dramatic parsimony is the stock-in-trade of well-made plays.Polyphony too, designates three different things. Zagagi ignores Bakhtin’s now classic use of the term to refer to the amalgamation of generic voices characteristic of the novel. Instead, she describes as polyphony the mixture of registers achieved by crossing para-tragic bits of dialogue with the plain style of comedy (54), divine intervention in mortal affairs (57), which is treated in detail in the sixth chapter, and the interweaving of two plot lines in a single play—not contaminatio, precisely, but rather a deft combination of two or more story patterns. [End Page 127]Thus, Dyskolos is analyzed (47) into a “romantic” strand, involving Sostratos’ efforts to win Knemon’s daughter as his bride, and a story line centered on the character of the misanthrope (Zagagi adds for good measure two “minor strands”: the sacrifice to Pan and the Gorgias plot). Zagagi sees as the price of this complexity a loss of dramatic unity: in order to avoid compromising the sketch of Knemon’s grumpiness, Menander does his best to keep the two plots of the comedy separate: “It is precisely from Menander’s constant effort to preserve the credibility of his main hero’s [i.e., Knemon’s] character by shielding him from the romantic action of the play, that the disunity of the Dyskolos stems” (47). This interpretation illustrates a major weakness in Zagagi’s search for elementary units of narrative as the basis of Menandrean composition. Every romantic plot requires not only a lover, but an obstacle or blocking figure (in Northrop Frye’s expression) as well, who, for motives of his own, inhibits the realization of the lover’s passion. In many plays, this function falls to the father of the adulescens, who disapproves of his son’s liaison with a slave-girl or otherwise unsuitable partner. In Dyskolos, the father of the girl (who by the same token is represented as a citizen) plays this role. This is as simple a scheme as one can have, and violates no presumed rule of unity of action. Menander... (shrink)

Melds philosophical analysis with early cinematic history to develop a fresh theory of the notion of comedy.

Dieter Declercq’s Satire, Comedy, and Mental Health (2021) examines the nature and value of satire, critically reviews familiar ways of construing its value, and mounts an argument for understanding satire’s value in terms of the contributions it can make to our mental health. Declercq has much to say about longstanding debates—for example, over whether satire is a powerful political weapon (vs. a waste of political time and energy) and whether satire functions as a catalyst for needed emotional catharsis (vs. (...) merely a welcome distraction). But the most important contribution Satire, Comedy, and Mental Health makes is to open a new line of enquiry about satire—namely, enquiry into the relationship between satire and mental health—thereby widening the debate over satire’s significance and value. Specifically, Declercq argues that satire is most impressive for how it helps us cope with the limits of critique—that is, with our awareness that unjust suffering will persist despite our very best efforts. Critique cannot cure the world because we do not have endless resources to devote to solving all the world’s problems and righting all the world’s wrongs; even if we did, our efforts will not always be successful. Indeed, in some cases, our efforts might make things worse. We are finite and limited beings who simply cannot perfectly design, create, choreograph, and maintain the perfect utopias we so desire. This refreshingly new perspective makes this book an important addition to the scholarly literature on satire. (shrink)

My aim in this paper is to reconsider a number of aspects of Aristotle's thinking on comedy in the light of the acknowledged Aristotelian corpus. I shall have nothing to say about the Tractatus Coislinianus, an obscure and contentious little document which must remain an inappropriate starting-point for discussion. There is still, I believe, something to be learnt from the extant works.

Patrick Downey finds comedy at the heart of the Western philosophical and theological tradition. In Serious Comedy Downey tracks tragedy and comedy from the beginning of Western thought to the twentieth century, beginning with an in-depth examination of Aristotle and three Platonic dialogues: the Republic, the Phaedrus, and the Symposium. In the book's second section Downey argues that the Bible is at heart a comedic narrative and analyzes the philosophical and theological implications of this comedy. In (...) the third section Downey traces comedy and tragedy in classic and modern philosophers such as Machiavelli, Dante, Hegel, Nietzsche, and Kierkegaard. Readers with an interest in classical philosophy and theology, political philosophy, and narrative theory will be particularly interested in this insightful and thoughtful perspective on the Western tradition. (shrink)

Comedy and philosophy have too often been thought immiscible, a tradition supported by a solemn reading of philosophers such as Plato. A closer look at Plato – and specifically at what may be his most familiar dialogue – the Republic, suggests just the contrary. Far from immiscible, comedy and philosophy are entwined in ways that are mutually illuminating. I argue that a joke in Book V reveals the self-forgetting involved in founding the city in speech, and so illustrates (...) the vitality of self-knowledge to political ventures. Glaucon criticizes the first city in speech as akin to one “of sows”, prompting a new city altogether, and yet the city that he helps to create not only eradicates distinctions between animals and humans but is founded on principles of animal husbandry and described overwhelmingly in animalistic terms. Justice in this city is defined as a minding of one’s own business, but what exactly “one’s own” is expands to accommodate Glaucon’s pleonexia and accompanying tyrannical allowances. Glaucon has forgotten himself. Without a limit – without a restriction on what one’s own is – the city degenerates into a tyranny. Glaucon’s self-forgetting may be a minor, comical incident, but it has significant philosophical consequences, including a radical undercutting of the city in question as well as the distinction between humans and animals. The comical mode employed here suggests that it may be a comical understanding of the self that best supersedes the forgotten self. (shrink)

This wide-ranging conversation explores the potential of comedy to effect social change; the connections and disconnections between comedy and tragedy; the problem of laughter, humor, and ridicule; and the power of feminist humor.

For most readers of the Phenomenology of Spirit, Hegel’s example of “Ethical Action” is taken from Sophocles’ Antigone. In fact, however, Hegel provides us with a trilogy of tragic examples. The first is Sophocles’ Oedipus Tyrannos; the second, Aeschylus’s Seven against Thebes; Antigone is but the third. Further, just as a dramatic trilogy was followed by a satyr play among the ancients, ethical action’s final moment is taken from Aristophanes’ Ekklesiazousai. These four examples do not form a simple series where (...) each equally expresses the truth of ethical action. Rather, they are increasingly adequate to that truth. (shrink)

This paper discusses recent interpretations of Jean-Paul Sartre's early theory of emotions, in particular his Sketch for a Theory of the Emotions. Despite the great interest that Sartre's approach has generated, most interpretations assume that his approach fails because it appears to be focussed on ‘malformed’, ‘irrational’ or ‘distorted’ emotions. I argue that these criticisms adopt a rationalistic or epistemically biassed perspective on emotions that is wrongly applied to Sartre's text. In my defence of Sartre I show that the directional (...) fit of emotions is not towards an evaluatively loaded world which is independently given and, at best, represented by emotions, but towards a world shaped through the impact of emotions themselves. Sartre's idea of emotions ‘magically transforming’ reality for the subject so that the latter is better able to cope with problematic aspects of practically relevant situations encapsulates the world-shaping capacities of emotions, which are thus not reserved for a restricted class of emotions. Recognition of the transformative powers of emotions will also direct attention away from their seemingly representative elements to their normative and practical aspects and offer a new basis for delineating the criteria for judging them. The plausibility of this position is discussed with reference to some of Sartre's examples, such as fear, sadness and horror, but also with reference to Joan Didion's account of grief in The Year of Magical Thinking. (shrink)

In _Comedy Incarnate_, Noël Carroll surveys the characteristics of Buster Keaton’s unique visual style, to reveal the distinctive experience of watching Keaton’s films. Bold and provocative thesis written by one of America’s foremost film theorists Takes a unique look at the philosophies behind Keaton’s style Weighs visual elements over narrative form in the analysis of the Keaton’s work Provides a fresh vantage point for analysis of film and comedy itself.

This chapter discusses the comic potential that originates in the way players of digital games take on the dual position of being at once a played self that is internal to the gameworld and a playing self that perceives this world from the outside. I first describe the comic attitude as it is defined within philosophy: as an attitude of distanced and dispassionate reflection towards an incongruity. I then show how the dual position of players during gameplay not only is (...) characterized by incongruities, such as contradictions between the apparent seriousness and the ultimate triviality of in-game actions, but also allows players to dispassionately reflect on these incongruities. I thus argue that digital gameplay entails the inherent possibility of turning players into both a comic object and a laughing subject. (shrink)

The first evaluation and critique of Hegel's theory of tragedy and comedy, this book also develops an original theory of both genres.

"Heidegger" and "comedy" are words that one seldom finds conjoined. However, in his 1943 Summer Freiburg lecture course entitled " Der Anfang des abendländischen Denkens. Heraklit ," the word " komisch " occurs significantly, it is regarded as superior to " das Tragische ," and thus can open up a new vista onto Heideggerian thought. In this paper, I discuss Heidegger's interpretive translation of Heraclitus' Fragment 123: Φυσιζ κρυπτ∊σθαι φιλ∊ι. I attempt to show how Heidegger distinguishes his translation and (...) interpretation from other great thinkers and other ways of thought, and how this distinction ultimately unfolds into that unlikeliest and untimeliest of beings, a uniquely comic Heidegger. (shrink)

In this article, I argue that sensibility‐invariantism about ‘funny’ is defensible, not just as a descriptive hypothesis, but, as a normative position as well. What I aim to do is to make the realist commitments of the sensibility‐invariantist out to be much more tenable than one might initially think them to be. I do so by addressing the two major sources of discontent with sensibility‐invariantism: the observation that discourse about comedy exhibits significant divergence in judgment, and the fact that (...) disagreements about comedy, unlike disagreements about, say, geography, often strike us as fundamentally intractable. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Kenneth R. Seeskin THE COMEDY OF THE GODS IN THE ILIAD "... no animai but man ever laughs." Aristotle, De Partibus Animalium, 673a8-9 No reader of the Iliad can fail to be struck by the great extent to which social relations among the gods resemble those which obtain among men. Zeus, the oldest and strongest of the Olympian deities, rules as an absolute monarchor patriarch. The "council" meetings (...) over which he presides are not unlike those which occur on earth. Like Agamemnon, he must assert his authority from time to time; and, like any mortal king, he must deal with problems relating to jealousy, adultery, dishonesty, and revenge. To the extent that the gods differ from mortal heroes, those differences are similar to the ones which separate mortal heroes and commoners. The gods occupy the highest place on the scale of excellence, beauty, and social status, mortals with divine ancestry occupy the next position, and so on down the line. Although the above picture is accurate in many respects, there is something about it which is bound to leave one cold, for, unlike his mortal heroes, Homer's gods often appear as clowns. One need only recall scenes like Hephaestus' bumbling attempt to wait on the other immortals (1.584 ff.), Hera's seduction of Zeus (14.157 ff.), or the famous theomachy (21.385 ff.) to see that, ironically, humans frequendy are more dignified than the gods they are trying to please. It was scenes like these which caused Longinus, in his essay On the Sublime, to remark that Homer appears to have made his men gods and his gods men (sec. 9). Now any long story is bound to contain comic relief. But for many authors (Shakespeare, for instance), comic relief is supplied by those whose social status is lower than that of the main characters, e.g., grave diggers, nightwatchmen, country bumpkins, or pettythieves. As Aristotle argued in the Poetics (sec. 2 and 5), comedy is an imitation of men worse than the average. In Book 2 of the Iliad, Homer does use Thersites 295 296Philosophy and Literature for comic effect; yet this scene is noteworthy for being the only one in the book which supports Aristotle's contention. In practically every other case, comedy is supplied by characters better than the average: it is supplied by the gods. Moreover, in the few cases where mortal aristocrats are involved in comic situations (e.g., the rambling speeches of Nestor), the teasing tends to be extremely mild. Farce and slapstick are reserved almost exclusively for the inhabitants of Olympus. Plato, for one, was outraged by passages where the gods look ridiculous and wanted them excised from the text. Not surprisingly, there is a tradition of modern scholars who feel a similar sense of outrage. Walter Leaf, for example, maintained that the theomachy is poorly written and thus not the work of Homer.1 Gilbert Murray argued that several of the scenes in question are in bad taste, exemplify the spirit of Milesian skepticism, and, again, are not the work of Homer.2 Wilamowitz constructed an elaborate theory which claimed that these passages are the work of a later rhapsode who probably was associated with Archilochus.3 Finally, George Calhoun, who exposed the flaws of those just mentioned, concluded that such passages show the influence not of a later period of skepticism but of an earlier, less refined period and were composed merely to please Homer's audience.4 Since it is not my purpose to enter the long debate over the authorship and unity of the text, let me state the guiding assumptions of this essay dogmatically. First, the passages in question are not interpolated and serve important artistic functions. Second, for whatever reason Homer decided to include them, their presence raises profound moral and religious questions. From the outset, it is clear that any anthropomorphic conception of the gods will have to fail in one important respect. The gods are immortal, humans are not. Thus even the lowliest human can do something which no god can—risk his life. For all of their quarrels, deceptive schemes, and forays into the thick of the fighting, the gods are... (shrink)

While it has perhaps always accompanied philosophical thought – one immediately thinks of Plato’s Dialogues – the problem of the communication of that thought, and therefore of its capacity to be taught, has acquired a new insistence in the work of post-Kantian thinkers. As evidence of this one could cite Fichte’s repeated efforts to formulate a definitive version of his Wissenschaftslehre, the model of the Bildungsroman that Hegel adopts for his Phenomenology of Spirit, Kierkegaard’s pseudonymous works, Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra, (...) and Heidegger’s uncompleted Being and Time. Certainly each of these thinkers, as well as their projects, are quite distinct from the others, but their works are also signposts. It is not a question here of reducing the puzzles and difficulties of these works to some single element, some trace of a philosophical zeitgeist. Rather, it is enough to indicate this preoccupation with the problem of the communicability of thinking in order to raise the question of the modality of such a communication. How has thinking come to be so fundamentally troubled by its own expression? That Kant’s Critical philosophy has precipitated this preoccupation ought to come as no surprise, for it was Kant, most famously in the Critique of Pure Reason, who sought to definitively set the limits of philosophical thinking. In doing so, however, Kant is unable to remain utterly silent about what he himself sets outside the bounds of meaningful thought and speech: things-in-themselves. The mere fact that this meaningless element is an essential component of Kant’s philosophical exposition is an indication of the paradoxical logic of the limit: to postulate a limit is simultaneously to set out its obverse side. In Kant’s case, then, the demarcation of what can be thought carries with it the implicit thinking of what is ruled out of bounds for thought. Beginning with Fichte, the philosophical project of Kant’s successors and inheritors is then largely determined by an effort to incorporate or at least accommodate this alien element within thinking. The initial phase of this effort is marked by a tragic motif, a conjoining of thought with the experience of loss and suffering that is characteristic of Romanticism, that culminates in the dialectic of Hegel’s Absolute Knowing. In Absolute Knowing, thought has not vanquished its limitations, it has instead discovered the resources with which it can perpetually surmount them. This first phase is followed by a reaction or response to this seeming completion and overcoming of the Kantian limitation. Now, the tragic movement of thought comes to be understood as itself limited, and necessarily so according to the logic of the limit that imposes itself upon every gesture of closure. Tragedy thereby gives way to comedy insofar as the limitation that is incorporated as an obstacle to be overcome by tragic thought is shown to be the external condition of that very thought. Finally, if the comic is the fate of the limitations of tragedy, the thought of comedy itself demands a third mode of thinking, one capable of something more than the mere reiteration of the limit between comedy and tragedy that troubles them both. This third form of expression is parody, an expression appropriate to a thinking that repeats and completes the threefold movement of tragic thought while, in this very repetition, creating a limitless domain of thoughtful expression. (shrink)

Though better known today as a political theorist than as a dramatist, Machiavelli secured his fame as a giant in the history of Italian comedy more than fifty years before Shakespeare's comedies delighted English-speaking audiences. This bilingual edition includes all three examples of Machiavelli's comedic art: sparkling translations of his farcical masterpiece, _The Mandrake_; of his version of Terence's _The Woman From Andros_; and of his Plautus-inspired _Clizia_--works whose genre afforded Machiavelli a unique vehicle not only for entertaining audiences (...) but for examining _virtue_ amid the twists and turns of _fortune_. (shrink)

Dans cette contribution, la Comédie Ancienne est associée de manière surprenante au complexe chamanistique, ou respectivement, au schéma du goës ou magos qui existait dans la Grèce archaïque et dans les premiers temps de la Grèce classique. Après un bref aperçu de l’histoire de la recherche concernant le ‘chamanisme’ grec dans les études classiques, l’auteur écarte explicitement les spéculations essentialistes sur l’origine, mais utilise le phénomène religieux au sens d’un procédé de fantaisie mental et théâtral. Le potentiel performatif du goës (...) est à même de traduire la chute soudaine, constitutive du genre, dans des espaces et des modes de jeu grotesques et ataviques, sur la scène comique. En particulier, les thèmes de la guérison et des voyages dans l’Hadès ou au ciel, thèmes qui jusqu’à présent n’ont pas vraiment été traités comme il l’aurait fallu, comme le héros comique ambigu et excessif, et la poétique alogique et non naturaliste de la Comédie Ancienne, peuvent s’expliquer comme repoussoirs d’un goës chamanique. Dans les pièces populaires de la place de marché, un tel théâtre de bouffons et de médecins charlatans perdure à travers l’histoire. À la fin, l’approche théorique est mise en pratique en prenant comme exemple la Paix d’Aristophane. L’intrigue relativement simple, où le héros chevauche jusqu’au ciel pour trouver une sorte de thérapie pour la cité, est enrichie d’une nouvelle signification totalement englobante, au-delà du politique strict. (shrink)

Explores the full extent of Hegel's interest in tragedy and comedy throughout his works and extends from more literary and dramatic issues to questions about the role these genres play in the history of society and religion.

Although its subject is the relationship between philosophy and comedy, this essay is neither flippant nor nihilistic. It instead approaches philosophy through themes borrowed from comedy, including chapters on inversion, paradox, madness, nonsense, and the distinction between appearance and reality. Beyond his authorship of two previous books on theories of comedy (Madness, Masks, and Laughter and Split Down the Sides), Glasgow's credentials are not stated. Annotation copyrighted by Book News, Inc., Portland, OR.

Although "Middle Comedy" may best serve as a chronological label, the remains of pre-Menandrian, fourth-century comic productions suggest that certain characteristics were more dominant at this time than in earlier or later periods of Greek comedy. The possible sources for these characteristics are wide-ranging, but available evidence indicates that fifth-century satyr drama was one of the most important. Not only do fragments, titles, and plots reveal a significant generic relationship, but Aristotle even seems to link their comic mode. (...) Fifth-century satyr plays, I argue, functioned as an important model for the poets of Middle Comedy. (shrink)