Part 3

A naughty jest of Europe has rebaptized a former potentate, Leopold, into Cleopold because of his relation to a lady surnamed Cleo. This is a clear form of condensation which by the addition of a single letter forever vividly preserves a scandalous allusion.

In an excellent chapter on this same theme Brill gives the following example.

“De Quincey once remarked that old persons are apt to fall into ‘anecdotage.’” The word Anecdotage, though in itself incomprehensible, can be readily analyzed to show its original full sense; and on analysis we find that it is made up of two words, anecdote and dotage. That is, instead of saying that old persons are apt to fall into dotage and that old persons are fond of telling anecdotes, De Quincey fuses the two words into a neologism, anecdotage, and thus simultaneously expresses both ideas. The technique, therefore, lies in the fusion of the two words. Such a fusion of words is called condensation. Condensation is a substitutive formation, i.e., instead of anecdote and dotage we have anecdotage.

“In a short story which I have recently read, one of the characters, a ‘sport,’ speaks of the Christmas season as the alcoholidays. By reduction it can be easily seen that we have here a compound word, a combination of alcohol and holidays which can be graphically represented as follows:

alcoHOL HOLidays ———————————— ALCOHOLIDAYS

“Here the condensation expresses the idea that holidays are conducive to alcoholic indulgence. In other words, we have here a fused word, which, though strange in appearance, can be easily understood in its proper context. The witticism may be described as a condensation with substitution.

“The same mechanism is found in the following: A dramatic critic, summarizing three paragraphs to the effect that most plays now produced in New York City are violently emotional and hysterical, remarks: ‘Thespis has taken up his home in Dramatteawan.’ The last word is a condensation of drama and Matteawan. The substitution not only expressed the critic’s idea that most of the plays at present produced in New York are violent, emotional and hysterical, that is insane, but it also contains a clever allusion to the nature of the problem presented by most of these plays. Matteawan is a state hospital for criminal insane. Most of the plays are not only insane, but also criminal since they treat of murders, divorces, robberies, scandals, etc.”

When Flaubert published his famous romance Salammbo, which treats of life in ancient Carthage, it was scoffingly referred to by Sainte-Beuve as Carthaginoiserie on account of its tedious detailed descriptions.

Carthaginoiserie chinoiserie

During a conversation with a lady I unintentionally furnished the material for a jest. I spoke to her about the great merits of an investigator whom I considered unjustly ignored. She remarked, “But the man really deserves a monument.” “Perhaps he will get one some day,” I answered, “but at the moment his success is very limited.” “Monument” and “moment” are contrasts. The lady then united these contrasts and said: “Well, let us wish him a monumentary success.”

If at this stage the reader should become displeased with a viewpoint which threatens to destroy his pleasure in wit without explaining the source of this pleasure I must beg him to be patient for a while, because we are now confronted with the technique of wit, the examination of which promises many revelations if only we enter into it far enough. Besides the analysis of the examples thus far cited, which show simply a process of condensation, there are others in which the changed expressions manifest themselves in other ways.

Condensation with Modification and Substitution

The following witticisms of Mr. N. will serve as illustrations.

“I was driving with him tête-à-bête.” Nothing is simpler than the reduction of this jest. Evidently it can only mean: I was driving tête-à-tête with Mr. X. and X. is a stupid ass (beast).

Neither of these two sentences is witty nor is there any wit if one combines them into this one: “I was out driving tête-à-tête with that stupid ass (beast).” The wit appears when the words “stupid ass” are omitted and when, as a substitute for them, the first “t” of the second “tête” is changed to “b.” This slight modification brings back to expression the suppressed “bête.” The technique of this group of witticisms may be described as “condensation with a slight modification.” And it would seem that the more insignificant the substitutive modification, the better is the wit.

Quite similar, although not without its complications, is the technique of another form of witticism. During a discussion about a person in whom there was something to praise and much to criticise, N. remarked: “Yes, vanity is one of his four heels of Achilles.” This modification consists in the fact that instead of the one vulnerable heel which was attributed to Achilles we have here four heels. Four heels means four feet and that number is only found on animals. The two thoughts condensed in the witticism are as follows: Except for his vanity he is an admirable fellow; still I do not care for him, for he is more of an animal than a human being.

A similar but simpler joke I heard statu nascendi in a family circle. One of two brothers who were attending college was an excellent scholar while the other was only an average student. It so happened that the model boy had a setback in school. The mother discussed this matter and expressed her fear lest this event be the beginning of a lasting deterioration. The boy who until then had been overshadowed by his brother willingly grasped this opportunity to remark: “Yes, Carl is going backward on all-fours.”

Here the modification consists in a small addition as an assurance that in his judgment his brother is going backward. This modification represents and takes the place of a passionate plea for his own cause which may be expressed as follows: After all, you must not think that he is so much cleverer than I am simply because he has more success in school. He is really a stupid ass, i.e., much more stupid than I am.

A good illustration of condensation with slight modification is furnished by a well-known witty jest of Mr. N., who remarked about a character in public life that he had a “great future behind him.” The butt of this joke was a young man whose ancestry, rearing, and personal qualities seemed to destine him for the leadership of a great party and the attainment of political power at its head. But times changed, the party became politically incompetent, and it could readily be foreseen that the man who was predestined to become its leader would come to nothing. The briefest reduction of the meaning by which one could replace this joke would be: The man has had a great future before him, but that is now past. Instead of “has had” and the appended afterthought there is a small change in the main sentence in which “before” is replaced by its opposite “behind.”

Mr. N. made use of almost the same modification in the case of the nobleman who was appointed minister of agriculture for no other reason than that he was interested in agriculture. Public opinion had an opportunity to find out that he was the most incompetent man who had ever been intrusted with this office. When, however, he had relinquished his portfolio and had withdrawn to his agricultural pursuits Mr. N. said of him: “Like Cincinnatus of Old he has returned to his place in front of the plough.”

That Roman, who was likewise called to his office from his farm, returned to his place behind the plough. In those days, just as in the present time, in front of the plough walked—the ox.

We could easily increase these examples by many others, but I am of the opinion that we are in need of no more cases in order to grasp thoroughly the character of the technique of this second group—condensation with modification. If we now compare the second group with the first, the technique of which consisted in condensation with a mixed word-formation, we readily see that the differences are not vital and that the lines of demarcation are indistinct. The mixed word-formation, like the modification, became subordinated to the idea of substitutive formation, and if we desire we can also describe the mixed word-formation as a modification of the parent word through the second elements.

We may make our first pause here and ask ourselves with what known factor in the literature of wit our first result, either in whole or in part, coincides. It obviously agrees with the factor of brevity which Jean Paul calls the soul of wit (supra, p. 11). But brevity alone is not wit or every laconism would be witty. The brevity of wit must be of a special kind. We recall that Lipps has attempted to describe more fully the peculiarity of the brevity of wit (v. s., p. 11). Here our investigation started and demonstrated that the brevity of wit is often the result of a special process which has left a second trace—the substitutive formation—in the wording of the wit. By applying the process of reduction, which aims to cause a retrogression in the peculiar process of condensation, we find also that wit depends only upon the verbal expression which was produced by the process of condensation. Naturally our entire interest now centers upon this peculiar and hitherto almost neglected mechanism. Furthermore, we cannot yet comprehend how it can give origin to all that is valuable in wit; namely, the resultant pleasure.

Condensation in Dreams

Have processes similar to those here described as the technique of wit already been noted in another sphere of our psychic life? To be sure, in one apparently remote sphere. In 1900 I published a book which, as indicated by its title (The Interpretation of Dreams), makes the attempt to explain the riddle of the dream and to trace the dream to normal psychic operations. I had occasion to contrast there the manifest and often peculiar dream-content with the latent but altogether real thoughts of the dream from which it originated, and I took up the investigation of the processes which make the dream from the latent dream-thought. I also investigated the psychological forces which participated in this transposition. The sum of the transforming processes I designated as the dream-work and, as a part of this dream-work, I described the process of condensation. This process has a striking similarity to the technique of wit and, like the latter, it leads to abbreviations and brings about substitutive formations of like character.

From recollections of his own dreams the reader will be familiar with the compositions of persons and objects that appear in them; indeed, the dream makes similar compositions of words which can then be reduced by analysis (e.g., Autodidasker—Autodidakt and Lasker). On other occasions and even much more frequently, the condensation work of the dream produces no compositions, but pictures which closely resemble an object or person up to a certain addition or variation which comes from another source, like the modifications in the witticisms of Mr. N. We cannot doubt that in this case, as in the other, we deal with a similar psychic process which is recognizable by identical results. Such a far-reaching analogy between wit-technique and dream-work will surely arouse our interest in the former and stimulate our expectation of finding some explanation of wit from a comparison with the dream. We forbear, however, to enter upon this work by bearing in mind that we have investigated the technique of wit in only a very small number of witty jests, so that we cannot be certain that the analogy, the workings of which we wish to explore, will hold good. Hence we turn away from the comparison with the dream and again take up the technique of wit, leaving, however, at this place of our investigation a visible thread, as it were, which later we shall take up again.

Wit Formed by Word-division

The next point we shall discuss is whether the process of condensation with substitutive formation is demonstrable in all witticisms so that it may be designated as a universal character of the technique of wit. I recall a joke which has clung to my mind through certain peculiar circumstances. One of the great teachers of my youth, whom we considered unable to appreciate a joke—he had never told us a single joke of his own—came into the Institute laughing. With an unwonted readiness he explained the cause of his good humor. “I have read an excellent joke,” he said. “A young man who claimed to be a relative of the great J. J. Rousseau, and who bore his name, was introduced into a Parisian drawing-room. It should be added that he was decidedly red-headed. He behaved in such an awkward manner that the hostess ventured this criticism to the gentleman who had introduced him—‘Vous m’avez fait connaître un jeune homme roux et sot, mais non pas un Rousseau.’”