Laughter occurs when two elements are present: the funny object and the laughing subject. As a rule, nineteenth- and twentieth-century thinkers studied either one or the other: the comic object in works on aesthetics, the laughing subject in works on psychology. Yet the comic is determined by neither the former nor the latter, but by the influence on us of objective phenomena. The importance of the psychological factor has been mentioned in aesthetics more than once, as Kagan1 notes: ‘It is impossible to understand the nature of the comic without investigating the psychology of feelings related to it, or to a sense of humour’ (1966, I:4). Hartmann2 makes a similar statement: ‘In a strictly aesthetic sense, the comic cannot exist without the humour of the subject’ (1958, 607).
All the causes and circumstances pertaining to laughter deserve to be studied. According to Bergson,3 laughter occurs with the precision of a law of nature, it emerges whenever there is a reason for it. The fallacy of this statement is clear: one can give a reason for laughter but there may be people who will not laugh and who could be made to laugh. There is no necessary connection between the comic object and the laughing person, since where one person laughs, another will not. The reason for this may be historical, social, national, or personal. Each era possesses a specific sense of humour and of the comical that is sometimes beyond the comprehension of people living before or after; so does each nation. ‘It would be extremely interesting to write the history of laughter,’ Herzen4 (1954, 223) once said. Such a history is not the aim of this study, which will be limited to sources from the eighteenth to the twentieth centuries.
Given such historical differentiation and the length of time between the eighteenth and twentieth centuries, a certain historically developed national differentiation will come to light. One can say that French laughter is characterized by refinement and wit (Anatole France); German, by a certain ponderousness (comedies by Hauptmann); English, sometimes by good-natured or caustic ridicule (Dickens, Bernard Shaw); Russian, by bitterness and sarcasm (Griboyedov, Gogol, Saltykov-Shche-drin). Such observations have no scholarly value, though these sorts of studies are not devoid of interest. Obviously within the bounds of every national culture, different social strata possess a different sense of humour as well as different ways of expressing it. Individual differentiation should especially be taken into account within these bounds. We have all observed that some people or groups of people are inclined to laughter, while others are not – young people are, for example, whereas old people are less so, though gloomy youths and cheerful old men and women are hardly uncommon and when teenage girls get together they laugh a great deal and have fun for no obvious reason.
Born humorists, people gifted with wit and the ability to laugh, exist in all walks of life. Not only are they able to laugh themselves, they can also amuse others. Here is how the brothers Sokolov5 describe Vasily Vasilyevich Bogdanov, a churchwarden from a village in the Belozersky region: ‘A small, reddish man over thirty, a bit silly in appearance, but hiding great resourcefulness and cunning behind this mask. He always winks, banters.’ The character was well aware of the ins and outs of the life of rural clergy and reflected it in his tales, narrating them so that the listeners understood the hints hidden in them. ‘Vas did not miss the opportunity to mention even the persons present, thus causing special cheerfulness among the audience’ (1915, 78), the joker and the wit being very common types of storyteller. In Moscow in the 1850s there was a famous actor, writer, and storyteller named Ivan Fyodorovich Gorbunov, who could improvise scenes from Moscow life so that those around him burst out laughing, enjoying the keenness of his observations and the accuracy of his imitations. Some actors possess a special gift for the comic; for example, the public started laughing as soon as Varlamov6 opened the door and stepped onto the stage, even though he had not uttered a single word. The same happened with Igor Ilyinsky,7 the ‘people’s actor’ of the USSR. The presence of a humorous streak is a sign of a gifted nature. We know from Gorky’s8 memoirs of Tolstoy9 how much the three of them, Tolstoy, Gorky, and Chekhov, used to laugh together. When Professor Maxim Kovalevsky came to see Chekhov in Nice, they laughed so much in the restaurant that customers began to notice them.
These examples show that in some people the comic around them inevitably causes laughter. The ability to act in this way is a positive characteristic as it testifies to a love of life. However, for many different reasons some people are not readily disposed to laughter. If the ability to laugh is a sign of human intelligence and is characteristic of all spirited people, the incapacity for laughter can sometimes be explained as resulting from dullness and callousness. People incapable of laughing may also be flawed in some respect. Can Chekhov’s Prishibeyev, or Belikov, the man who lived in a shell, or Colonel Skalozub [Griboyedov’s Wit Works Woe] laugh? They are funny, we laugh at them, but in real life they likely are incapable of laughing. Some professions – in particular, those that grant a person authority, but especially professors and officials of the old cast – seem to prevent narrow-minded people from laughing. ‘The portrait of Ugryum-Burcheyev is still kept in the city archives. He was a man of medium height, with a kind of wooden face that was apparently never lit up with a smile’ is how Saltykov-Shchedrin10 (1965–77, VIII:399) portrays one of the mayors in The History of a Town. But Ugryum-Burcheyev is not an individual character, he is a type. ‘Those are completely inhibited beings’ (400) is what the author says about such people. Unfortunately, ‘agelasts’ (people incapable of laughing) are common in the school system. This can be explained by the strains of the profession, nervous pressure, and so forth, but it can also be explained by the psyche of the person, which has a definite bearing on a teacher’s work. It is not without reason that Chekhov’s man in a shell was a teacher by profession. In his essay ‘The Pedant,’ Belinsky (1953–56, 70–1) writes: Yes, I definitely want to make my pedant a teacher of literature.’ Teachers who are unable to understand and share children’s cheerfulness, who do not smile, laugh, and understand jokes, should be encouraged to change profession. The inability to laugh can be a sign not only of dullness but also of villainy. Pushkin’s Mozart and Salieri comes to mind here:
MOZART: Something by Mozart, please.
The old man plays an aria from Don Giovanni;
Mozart roars with laughter.
SALIERI: How can you laugh?
MOZART: How can you not laugh? Oh Salieri!
SALIERI: No:
I’m not amused when some appalling dauber
Tries his Raphael Madonna out on me,
I’m not amused when wretched mountebanks
Dishonour Dante with their parodies.
Be off, old man.
MOZART: Wait – drink my health with this.
Exit old man. (1982, 38)
Pushkin’s Mozart, a cheerful man of genius, is capable of fun and laughter and can even consider a parody on his works as a joke. Conversely, the envious, cold-hearted, selfish murderer Salieri is as incapable of laughing as he is incapable of any creative work because of his profoundly mean nature, which is what Mozart tells him: ‘Genius and evil-doing don’t go together’ (42).
But the inability to laugh can also occur for other reasons, for example, some profound and serious people do not laugh because of their lofty souls and elevated thoughts. In his memoirs on Ivanov11 the painter, Turgenev12 (1956, X:337) writes: ‘Literature and politics were of no interest to him; he was engrossed in issues related to art, morality, and philosophy. Once, somebody brought him an album of well-turned caricatures; Ivan studied them for a long time, and suddenly, raising his head, said: “Christ never laughed.” At that time Ivanov was finishing his painting “The Appearance of Christ before the People.”’
Turgenev does not say what the caricatures were about. The point is that they conflicted with the world of high morals, the high intellectual mood, that Ivanov was absorbed with. The domains of religion and laughter mutually exclude each other; for example, in Old Russian written literature the element of laughter and the comic is totally absent. Laughter in church during a divine service would have been perceived as blasphemy. It should be mentioned, however, that laughter and fun, forbidden by the ascetic Christian religion, is not incompatible with all religions; examples are the Saturnalias and Dionysias of antiquity. Independently of the church, people celebrated their old, joyful festivals of pagan origin: Christmas, Eastertide, St John’s Eve, and others. Bands of jolly skomorokhs13 wandered about the country; people narrated mischievous tales and sang blasphemous songs. While it is impossible to imagine Christ laughing, it is very easy to imagine the Devil doing so, which is how Goethe portrayed Mephistopheles. His laughter is cynical but also profoundly philosophical, and the image he projects gives the reader tremendous pleasure and aesthetic enjoyment.
When observing people who do not laugh or who are not inclined to laugh, we remark that those who are entirely caught up with some passion or hobby or are completely absorbed in some complicated or profound thoughts will not laugh. It is quite obvious that laughter is incompatible with any profound and real grief and also impossible when we see someone who is truly suffering. If, nevertheless, someone laughs, we feel indignation, as this type of laughter betrays the moral flaws of the laughing person. These initial observations do not solve the problem of the psychology of laughter but merely raise it. We can identify the causes of laughter after the fact, and the psychological processes behind it will be investigated.