In Defence of English Humour

Article by Sam Nicoresti. Edited by Amy Calladine. Additional Research by Jon Park.

In 1941, George Orwell, in his essay The Lion and the Unicorn, attempted a definition of the English people, arguing that, ‘it is important to determine what England is, before guessing what part England can play in the huge events that are happening’. His definition characterised us as a nation of hobbyists, of gentle and private paradoxes, with a fear of abstract thought, a belief in the law as something ‘cruel and stupid’ but ‘incorruptible’, un-artistic and insular compared to the rest of Europe, with no need for the conventions of logic or an ordered system of thought.

Orwell’s description, as shown in its highly abridged form here, seems disparaging and, on some level, cruel. In reading his words, one gains a sense of self-mockery and a mock-defeatist attitude, paradoxically proud and twee. He manages to work the endearingly mundane and trivial (the English love of flowers, stamp collectors and crossword enthusiasts) into an essay that argues for the necessity of a Socialist revolution to win the war on Fascism. In some ways, it seems almost humorous. This, I think, is the crucial characteristic which Orwell does not quite overtly express – namely, the role that humour has played in not just forming a part of the English character, but in some respects defining the English throughout modern history.

In this article I will look briefly at the historical importance of comedy in reflecting the attitudes and sense of identity of the English people, within a relatively short time frame, from the entertainment of the Music Hall and light relief entertainment, through the satirical revival of the 1970s, ending in the present day. This narrative will allow a focus on comedy’s development into an art-form, and from there, into the realms of intellectualism; filling a vacuum that is perhaps created by modern culture, or its lack thereof.

Historically, humour has always played some role in society that is recognised as stretching beyond its ability to make us laugh. In Britain, the role of comedy, whether it be satire, wit, or bawdy slap-stick, has also played a vital role in social, political, and cultural spheres, and is, I feel, inherent to our ideas of freedom of speech, democracy, and national identity.

The popularity of music-hall during World War One was a key component in rallying patriotism and recruiting troops, serving as an example of comedy not only in reflecting public opinion, but in defining the British character. As Orwell points out, ‘the songs which the soldiers made up and sang of their own accord were not vengeful but humorous and mock-defeatist. The only enemy they ever named was the sergeant-major’. It is crucial to note that the morale boosting songs of the war were not the state sanctioned, state written, glorious and triumphant displays of might that were seen in Germany during World War Two, or Russia after the revolution. They were humorous, twee, quaint little ditties that didn’t just reflect the attitudes of the war, but, much on the same level as the poetry of Graves, Sassoon, Owen, and Brooke, came to be the voices that defined them.

One should not ignore the effect of humour in rallying both patriotism and reserve as the deadly shadow of Nazism spread across Europe. The caricatures of Punch Magazine cathartically belittled and ridiculed Hitler, whilst perhaps most notable was Britain’s glib yet defiant answer to the manipulative propaganda of Goebbels, the popular refrain, Hitler Has Only Got One Ball. All of this speaks of a character indigenous to Britain, and it was as the war ended that comedy first began to truly commit itself to British identity in forms more recognisable today. Television was gaining popularity, and the artistic world was warping itself to fit a new role which perhaps had its roots in WW1, but which comedy had been filling for much longer, namely, in reflecting an image of the people, and not simply acting as a mirror for the rich. Art and comedy were being drawn closer together from different angles.

The 1950s saw the emergence of, most notably, two different, but related streams of comedy. One was the situation comedy of Hancock’s Half Hour, a genre which came to define much of the realities of British working class life (see Only Fools & Horses, Steptoe and Son, etc.) The second was in the more surrealist, escapist style exemplified by The Goons, which could be seen as a precursor to the re-emergence of satire a decade later, with its parodies of elements of British society and class. Along with Hancock’s Half Hour, they were two of the only shows of that decade that arguably dealt with the satire and ridicule of politicians, such as MacMillan and Churchill, before the satire boom of the 1960s. 

Satire was reborn in 1960 when Peter Cook, still studying at Cambridge, went to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival and put on, with his fellow Footlighters, Beyond the Fringe. Adopting the surrealist tone of comedy that had been missing from practically all English art, with its Protestant influenced Naturalism, it paved the way for the new breed of comedians coming out of the same institutions that produced our leading intellectuals, thinkers, and the majority of our politicians; the Oxbridge Mafia. On the one hand there was Monty Python, relentlessly pushing the boundaries of bad taste and comic form (their Undertaker’s Sketch was only allowed to be performed under the stipulation that the audience stage a mass-revolt in disgust, so as to pre-empt public response and assuage the BBC of supporting such filth). On the other, and a little later, came the Rowan Atkinson-led news satire show of Not the Nine o’clock News, which helped re-instate comedy’s role as a commentator, calling out politicians, ridiculing religion, and making comedy feel more current through satirising popular news events. Of course there were no absolute boundaries and both frequently crossed over, with Python causing a religious backlash over The Life of Brian, whilst Atkinson, many years later, created the character of Mr. Bean, in which he could explore comic form and the role of character acting in a way that to some seems childish, and to others seems almost like an intellectual thesis.

In the 1980s, Spitting Image opened up a new level of ridiculing authority with its memorable depictions of the Thatcher Government reportedly being highly influential in the dismissal of eight members of her cabinet. Satirical shows and publications such as The Bugle and Private Eye continued to be a more trustworthy and informative source long after news channels and papers had become entangled in a battle for dramatic, attention-grabbing ‘content’ in a new digital age. Comedians such as Stewart Lee continued to show the importance of comedy in commenting on religion, with shows such as Jerry Springer the Opera, causing a significant and unprovoked back-lash from right-wing fundamentalist groups looking to publicise their movement. Comedy, it seems, had not yet lost its ability to be relevant. Indeed, countless observational humorists, situational comedies, news satire shows and others continue to form and reflect as much of an inherent part of British identity and culture as they have ever done.

This is not to suggest that comedy is the sole arbiter of morality or taste in politics, society and culture. Literature, art, drama and poetry have been sidelined, and for the most part, just brutally ignored in this essay in order to avoid getting bogged down in fruitless side-tracks and losing sight of the topic in focus. This has also by no means been an attempt to provide any form of a comprehensive history of modern comedy. There are whole side-routes, under-ground movements, and even crucial figures, which have not been touched upon simply because I did not want to produce a simple narrative. This essay, I hope, has been a look at the role that comedy has played within society, and even in forming part of our national identity, throughout history.

Because of comedy’s need to interact with the audience, to stimulate them into laughter, and in that vein to be constantly adapting and associating with them on some level, I believe it has always played, and will continue to play, a vital role in reflecting and to some degrees defining British culture. Its role in commenting on institutions such as the government, or religion, will continue long after the recognisable artists of modern society have self-referenced and deconstructed themselves into a post-modern coma. The presence of the Oxbridge Mafia in comedy brings a tinge of intellectualism to their humour largely missing in the popular domain from the comedic repertoire of, for example, America, (though there are examples of coal in amongst the soot). It is a cliché, but it is also aphoristic, that ‘you can tell a lot about a man’s character from what he laughs at’, and it is in the same vein that perhaps you can tell a lot about a nation’s characteristics from what we, collectively, laugh, and have laughed at. Punch archives have always been a sure fire indicator of how the working classes, or politicians, were faring in middle-class public opinion, Music Halls parodied and commented upon much of what felt socially relevant to a contemporary audience, and television sit-coms to an extent picked up that role after the Second World War.

I heard it protested once that “British Humour” was not an oxymoron. In defence of this I would say that we have revealed and documented as much about ourselves throughout our recent history through comedy (our mannerisms, ways of life, and taboos), as we have done through literature, art, drama, film, sculpture, poetry, or any other art form that reflects and defines a part of society. Right through from the humour of the First World War Music Hall, to present day satirical publications and even news panel quiz shows, comedy may have lost some of its high-brow artistic worth, but it has not lost sight of its objective in raising questions, pushing boundaries, and confronting the taboos of society, in silly, surreal, and often simply sublime ways.

*****

Collection of original recordings of music-hall songs at: http://www.rfwilmut.clara.net/musichll/musich.html 

Archive of Punch Cartoons at: http://www.punchcartoons.com/index.html 

BBC Radio Comedy recordings, including The Goon Show and Hancock’s Half Hour: http://www.rfwilmut.clara.net/musichll/musich.html 

The Python’s famous undertaker sketch! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vWWg5shNWR4 

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