Introduction to the Modern Library Humor and Wit Series

by Steve Martin

Modern Library Humor and Wit Series
Modern Library, 2000

When I was asked to be the editor for the Modern Library Humor series, including books that had been written as far back as the mid-eighteenth century, I was shocked. I frankly was not aware that anything funny had been written before I started writing. I had indeed heard of SJ Perelman, James Thurber, and the like, but I was also aware that they were heavily influenced by me, even lifting some of my ideas, backdating them, and carefully inserting them in magazines from the thirties with the clever use of a razor blade and glue.

That said, I have read the essays in the Modern Library's editions, and will give these authors credit in that they have been extremely nimble in adapting my ideas-for example, my use of the word "the" before nouns-and disguising it so there appears to be no plagiarism at all.

Unlike most of the arts, greatness in comedy is not necessarily judged by its ability to transcend generations. Comedy is designed to make people laugh now, not three generations later, and it would be a poor stand-up comedian who suggested waiting forty-five years for a joke to take hold. Have you ever seen cartoons from early-twentieth century magazines? The ones with captions that are longer than the phone book?.

"Eloise, it seems to me that the men should retire to the den for sport and that the ladies should remain in the dining area until that hour which it is deemed appropriate for the..." blah blah blah.

What were they laughing at?.

But just because it isn't funny now doesn't mean it wasn't funny then. And, even though you have probably burst into uncontrollable fits of hysteria several times already in the reading of this essay, that doesn't mean that this will be hilariously funny one thousand years from now.

In fact, I worry that my fantasy dinner party, at which Mark Twain, Benjamin Franklin, SJ Perelman, and Nora Ephron hold court in my dining room, instead of being from-mouth-to-page publishable, might be a disaster. Would Ben utter a short, to-the-point epigram, Twain offer a witticism, Perelman deliver an exasperated self-deprecation, and Ephron observe a social irony, and then all of them sit there, separated by generations, wondering what the others were talking about?.

So in choosing the books for this series, it was necessary to select works whose humor remains intact for us today. Generally, the ability for humor to last is explained away by saying that it appeals to something in us that is human and universal. This is a cheap, dopey explanation, and I'm upset that you suggested it. I prefer to think that transcendent humor is the product of funny people, and that's all there is to say. Who would you rather have at your party, someone human and universal, or someone who is deeply funny? This is why my fantasy dinner party would be swell, because all of these writers are deeply funny people. Although I must add that I know Nora Ephron personally, and I'm happy to say that she is also universal.

Sometimes, when I am feeling insecure about my chosen profession, I try to imagine a world without comedy-for example, the world that ducks live in. Try to imagine a political climate where an ironic comment is seized upon by a humorless news media. Or the world of entertainment minus the hilarious zing of celebrity interviews. It would be a sad, straight, strict world. Instead, we live in a world that is actually thriving on humor, and consuming it at an alarming rate. Comedy writers, who undoubtedly wake up in the morning with joy on their faces and a joke in their hearts, are more in demand than ever, partially because of their high suicide rate.

I suppose some kind of deeper commentary about humor is in order. I am overjoyed at the prospect of offering my very sophisticated views on humor, as I have been in the comedy world for over ... wait a minute. I am suddenly reminded of a phrase that circulates around my group of funny friends, which is generally expressed thus: The day you start analyzing humor is the day you cease to be funny. I think I'd rather be funny.

Good night.