'To write a book is hard; to write a funny book is harder; to write a funny book both wise and funny is the prerogative of Mr. Mikes' The Times _________________________ If you want to succeed here you must be able to handle the English sense of humour. So proclaims George Mikes' timeless exploration of this curious phenomenon. Whether it's understatement, self-deprecation or plain cruelty, the three elements he identifies as essential to our sense of humour, being witty here is a way of life. Perfectly placed as an adopted Englishman himself, Mikes delivers his shrewd advice - helpfully divided into 'Theory' and 'Practice' - with a comic precision that does his chosen country proud. Drawing on a trove of examples from our rich comic canon, from Orwell ("Every joke is a tiny revolution") to Oscar Wilde, this is the essential handbook for natives and foreigners alike. Mrs Kennedy: "I don't think, Mr Churchill, that I have told you anything about my grandchildren." Winston Churchill: "For which, madam, I am infinitely grateful."
A doorstopper of a collection of the very best of both contemporary and classic British wit and humour. From Monty Python's 'Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more . . .' to Dan Antopolski's 'Hedgehogs. Why can't they just share the hedge?'. From George Bernard Shaw to Michael McIntyre, from Eric Morecombe to Omid Djalili, and from Oscar Wilde to Jimmy Carr, a side-splitting look at Britain, the British and life in general. Including these gems from Britain's finest comedians: I was delighted to learn that my friend's schadenfreude was not as satisfying as mine. Armando Iannucci. I went on a girls' night out recently. The invitation said 'dress to kill'. I went as Rose West. Zoe Lyons For a while I was the perfect mother. Then the Pethidine wore off. Jenny Eclair. My girlfriend was complaining last night that I never listen to her. Or something like that. Jack Dee. Why do dogs always race to the door when the doorbell rings because it's hardly ever for them? Harry Hill. Arse-gravy of the very worst kind. Stephen Fry on The Da Vinci Code. You have to come up with this shit every year. Last week I just wrote "I still love you, see last year's card for full details." Michael McIntyre on Valentines Day. I went to the doctor and he said, 'You've got hypochondria.' I said, 'Not that as well!'Tim Vine. I have the body of an eighteen year old. I keep it in the fridge. Spike Milligan. When someone close to you dies, move seats. Peter Kay. My neighbour asked if he could use my lawnmower and I told him of course he could, so long as he didn't take it out of my garden. Eric Morecambe. My dad's dying wish was to have his family around him. I can't help thinking he would have been better off with more oxygen. Jimmy Carr. Eighty-two point six per cent of statistics are made up on the spot. Vic Reeves. A bird in the hand invariably shits on your wrist. Billy Connolly. Getting divorced isn't like a bereavement at all, because if he's died, I'd have had me mortgage paid, and I could've danced on his grave. Sarah Millican. My greatest hero is Nelson Mandela: incarcerated for 25 years, he was released in 1990, he's been out about 18 years now and he hasn't re-offended. Ricky Gervais. If you want to confuse a girl, buy her a pair of chocolate shoes. Milton Jones. Phil Collins is losing his hearing, making him the luckiest man at a Phil Collins Concert. Simon Amstell. We'll continue our investigation into the political beliefs of nudists. We've already noticed a definite swing to the left. Ronnie Barker. A guy walks into the psychiatrist wearing only Clingfilm for shorts. The psychiatrist says, "Well, I can clearly see your nuts. Tommy Cooper
Winner of the Pulitzer Prize “A masterwork . . . the novel astonishes with its inventiveness . . . it is nothing less than a grand comic fugue.”—The New York Times Book Review A Confederacy of Dunces is an American comic masterpiece. John Kennedy Toole's hero, one Ignatius J. Reilly, is "huge, obese, fractious, fastidious, a latter-day Gargantua, a Don Quixote of the French Quarter. His story bursts with wholly original characters, denizens of New Orleans' lower depths, incredibly true-to-life dialogue, and the zaniest series of high and low comic adventures" (Henry Kisor, Chicago Sun-Times).
Originally written for Debrett's Peerage, Douglas Sutherland's guide to that endangered species, the English Gentleman, was intended as an antidote to all the endless, dull little books on manners and etiquette. It offers a window on the rather perverse world of the genuine article.
All Malcolm Fisher did was run over a badger. Unfortunately the badger turned out to be Ingolf, last of the giants. With his dying breath he reluctantly gave Malcolm two gifts of power and made him ruler of the world.
A compelling guide to the fundamental place of humour and comedy within Western culture—by one of its greatest exponents Written by an acknowledged master of comedy, this study reflects on the nature of humour and the functions it serves. Why do we laugh? What are we to make of the sheer variety of laughter, from braying and cackling to sniggering and chortling? Is humour subversive, or can it defuse dissent? Can we define wit? Packed with illuminating ideas and a good many excellent jokes, the book critically examines various well-known theories of humour, including the idea that it springs from incongruity and the view that it reflects a mildly sadistic form of superiority to others. Drawing on a wide range of literary and philosophical sources, Terry Eagleton moves from Aristotle and Aquinas to Hobbes, Freud, and Bakhtin, looking in particular at the psychoanalytical mechanisms underlying humour and its social and political evolution over the centuries.
This book skilfully combines cutting-edge historical research by leading and emerging researchers in the field to investigate the utilization of British humour during the Second World War as well as its legacy in British popular culture. Juliette Pattinson and Linsey Robb bring together case studies that address a variety of situations in which humour was generated, including wartime jokes, films, radio, cartoons and private drawings, as well as post-war recollections, museum exhibitions and television comedy. By adopting an original interpretative framework of various wartime and post-war sites, this books opens up the possibility for a more variegated, richer analysis of Britain's wartime experience and its place thereafter in the cultural imagination. Through the lens of humour, this book promises to add critical nuance to our understanding of the functioning of British wartime society. Covering sources such as The British Cartoon Archive, BBC World War II People's War Archive and The Ministry of Information, and including analysis of the lasting role of comedy in Britain's memories and depictions of the war, the result is a rich addition to existing literature of use to students and scholars studying the cultural history of war.
