Kant formulated the following idea about the comic: ‘Laughter is an affect that arises if a tense expectation is transformed into nothing (1987, §54 332, 203; italics original). These words are often quoted, always with some criticism. Richter expressed this critique in a gentle and tactful manner: ‘The new Kantian definition of the comical, that it consists in the sudden reduction of an expectation to nothing, raises objections’ (1813, 1. Abteilung, VI. Programm, §26). Schopenhauer is more definite, he disagrees both with Kant and Richter: ‘The theories of the comical by Kant and Jean Paul are well-known. I consider it superfluous to prove their falsity’ (1969, 99–112). He thinks that anyone who tries to apply this theory to the data will immediately notice that it is unfounded. A few other authors have made similar statements. Nevertheless, a comparative study of the data shows that Kant’s theory is essentially correct though it requires some amendments. Laughter occurs not only after a ‘tense expectation’ but can also occur all of a sudden. However, this is not the most important point, for an unrealized expectation of the type mentioned by Kant can be comical, though not necessarily always. Kant has simply not defined the specific character of the comic.
Under which conditions does an unrealized expectation cause laughter? If, for example, a girl gets married, having taken the groom for an ideal or at least a decent and honest person, it is not funny if he later does something dishonest, mean, or ugly. The unrealized expectation has not caused laughter. It is necessary to add to Kant’s theory that laughter will occur only when the unrealized expectation does not have serious or tragic consequences. The Kantian theory does not contradict what was discussed in the previous chapters. If one reflects on this theory, it consists in a certain exposure. Kant’s idea can be expanded and expressed as follows: We laugh when we think that something is there and we discover that there is actually nothing to it. In the example above, that ‘something’ is a person who is taken for someone important, significant, and positive, while the ‘nothing’ is what he actually turns out to be. The intrigue in The Government Inspector is based on this: ‘I say, everyone – a most extraordinary thing! The man I thought was a government inspector was no such thing.’ The officials headed by the town governor think that Khlestakov is an important person, a general who hobnobs with ministers and envoys, ‘a powerful, important personage’; but they suddenly realize that ‘he’s not at all powerful, or important. He’s not even a personage!’ He is but a ‘pup,’ a ‘squirt’ (Gogol 1998, 329–30). The plot of Dead Souls follows the same principle: Chichikov is taken for a millionaire and everybody is fascinated by him, whereas he is actually just an old fox, a cheat who ‘has deceived everybody.’ What Korobkin’s wife’s says in The Government Inspector – ‘What a mess! What a frightful fiasco!’ (333) -is equally applicable to Dead Souls.
Nikolayev is correct when he writes: ‘It is when something attempts to seem different from what it really is that makes laughter possible’ (1962, 56). Vulis makes the point even more clearly: ‘Seeming and being – perhaps the most general scheme of any comical phenomenon’ (1966, 11). Yurenev expresses the same idea: ‘Events develop in a way that was not expected, and the hero turns out not to be the person he was taken for’ (1964a, 97). This principle has long been known and can be considered a form of ‘role exchange.’ It underlies the popular motif of exchanging clothes in old comedies, where people in disguise are taken for other people; these actions are usually accompanied by some deception. In The Government Inspector, Khlestakov becomes an impostor against his will, but this does not change the point.
In classical comedy the deceiver deliberately misleads his antagonist. This form of deception is a particular case of duping. I will give only two or three examples. In Molière’s Amphitryon the god Jupiter falls in love with Alcmène, the wife of the Theban king Amphitryon. While the king is at war, Jupiter visits her disguised as her husband. The deceit is revealed when her husband returns from war. Jupiter consoles Amphitryon, saying that his rival was a god and that he will have a son, Hercules. The situation is not necessarily ridiculous, since the usurpation of conjugal rights can be perceived in a variety of ways. Nevertheless, the entire action is not real but imaginary. The god has to withdraw, because he is discredited, so truth triumphs, the husband triumphs, and all ends happily. In Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, the main characters are twins who seem to be identical, a brother and a sister. The sister disguises herself as a man. This leads to a great number of misunderstandings that set off bursts of laughter in the auditorium. This ‘quid pro quo’ principle is used mainly in old Western European classical comedy, but it occurs in Russian literature as well. For example, in Pushkin’s Lady into Lassie an aristocratic young lady from a rural district disguises herself as a peasant girl and by doing so misleads the son of the neighbouring landlord. The misunderstanding is happily cleared up and ends in a wedding.
Plots in which one character pretends to be another – thus causing laughter – are common in all literatures, Russian literature included. This can be illustrated through a great number of examples. The action of Zoshchenko’s1 comedy A Canvas Briefcase is based on a bevy of these types of misunderstandings, as is the comic of imposture. In The Twelve Chairs by Ilf and Petrov, Ostap Bender pretends to be a great chess player, though he does not know how to play the game. In The Little Golden Calf, Ostap Bender’s company automobile is taken for the leading car in a motor race, and he and his vehicle are welcomed everywhere with honours and gifts. Ostap makes clever use of this, pretending to be the champion, until the deceit is revealed and the car has to disappear promptly from the scene. In the examples just mentioned the impostor pretends to be more important and significant than he actually is. But the opposite situation is also possible: a person who is rather significant pretends to be less important than he actually is. Some of the great Russian humorists liked to play these sorts of hoaxes. This is what Maria Pavlovna Chekhova said of her brother:
I will never forget how Anton Pavlovich exasperated me on the train when we were on the way back to Moscow. The point is that professor Storo-zhenko, who delivered lectures and examined me when I took V.I. Gerje’s higher-level courses, was traveling on the same train. I told my brother about it and asked him not to make too much of this. But he deliberately came up with all sorts of comic improvisations, horrifying me. All of a sudden he started telling loudly a story of having been a cook at the estate of a certain countess, of having cooked various dishes and receiving praise from his employers who had always been very kind to him. Our companion, M.R. Semashko, a cellist, was playing along with my brother, saying that he used to be a valet. They shared stories about incredible adventures they had experienced. (1960, 87)
Similar incidents are known to have happened during Gogol’s life. The principle of quid pro quo, ‘role exchange,’ can also be expressed more broadly, as ‘one thing instead of another.’ This is very close to the phenomenon that can be formulated as ‘nothing instead of a supposed something.’ This is expressed almost exactly in Shakespeare, who titled one of his comedies Much Ado About Nothing. I will not analyse the plot of this intricate comedy, as this would take us too far afield. The principle ‘much ado about nothing’ is disappearing from modern comedy since the phenomenon seldom occurs in life. I will deal only with the case where unusual turmoil arises for insignificant reasons. Chekhov’s ‘A Horsy Name’ is a good example. In the comedy Thirty-Three a dentist finds out that his patient does not have thirty-two teeth, like everybody else, but thirty-three. This case receives enormous publicity, the man becomes famous, theses are written about him, a museum buys his skull, he is welcomed with honours everywhere, he is invited to dinners, etc. The comedy is not without some exaggeration, but the principal situation is comical in itself. It all ends when he gets a toothache and the tooth is extracted. It then turns out that there were two crowns on one root, which does occur in reality, and consequently he had only thirty-two teeth, like everyone else.
These sorts of plots, often found in folktales, are more appropriate in fantastic rather than realistic tales. The principle, which may be called ‘much ado about nothing,’ is probably employed in its purest form in some cumulative folktales.2 ‘Zhalostlivaya devka’ [The Pitiful Girl], comes to mind again. She goes to the river to rinse a mop. The village where her fiancé lives is visible on the other bank, which suggests to her the following: ‘I will marry, move to that village and give birth to a boy. The boy will turn eleven, will walk on recently frozen ice, and drown.’ She begins to cry, and her grandmother comes in and starts to cry too. Then her grandfather comes and they all start to wail together. The fiancé (or another person), having heard the news, leaves the village to search everywhere for a girl sillier than his fiancée, and finds one.
Here the contrast between the insignificance of the reason and the turmoil caused by it serves to expose the fiancée’s stupidity. This contrast is comical in itself, and stupidity need not be emphasized. In the folktale ‘Razbitoye yaichko’ [A Broken Egg], an egg is broken, the old man tells his wife about it, and she cries. The news of the broken egg spreads throughout the village, causing extraordinary turmoil. The old man cries, the old woman wails, the hen clucks, the gate creaks, the geese cackle, the sexton rings bells, and the priest tears up books. It ends with the village burning down. Sometimes the turmoil is motivated by the fact that the egg was not plain but golden, though this does not change the point. Some theorists compare such cases to a balloon that is inflated more and more until it bursts with a loud pop, which successfully and figuratively expresses the concept.