It’s fairly common, when talking about humor, to use the word carnivalesque (see for instance Fiske; Gilbert; Miller). The concept was most famously used by Russian literary critic Mikhail Bakhtin, in his analysis of French Renaissance writer François Rabelais. However, what people usually think they mean when they use the term is a set of simple–and therefore problematic–generic characteristics.
The Carnival
In this “simple carnivalesque,” people believe that the festival of Carnival constitutes a space of play that allows–if not endorses–certain taboo behaviors which thus offsets the observance of Lent. Some say it is a pressure valve that makes space for Lent; we get it out of our system–this is typical of Relief theorists.
Thus we note an immediate problem: to evoke the Carnival is to evoke a particular space and time, pre-packaged with certain rules for its participants–rules that are based on social, moral and psychological precepts, such as decorum.
Inverted Decorum
Robert Hariman argues that, for the Roman orator Cicero, decorum was a system of rules for our actions. In adhering to the rules, we perform the morals of our class or caste, and these rules are enforced by social judgements (e.g. “good boys and girls don’t do that“, etc.). For Cicero, this requires an element of self-discipline. A relevant example comes from the rules that govern bodily functions (urinating, defecating, sex, etc.):
to perform these functions—if only it be done in private—is nothing immoral; but to speak of them is indecent. And so neither public performance of those acts nor vulgar mention of them is free from indecency (De officiis, 1.127).
For Hariman, this is a shift from describing what is moral (versus not) to prescribing moral behavior.
Whereas Huizinga’s play space is pre-moral, when viewed through the lens of Roman Catholic religious practice the rules of Carnival temporarily invert the moral hierarchy of decorum in order to achieve certain political effects. This inversion seemingly allows those at the lower levels of society to play at being something else; both to treat nobles and even kings with scorn or contempt, and to engage in animalistic behaviors (lust, gluttony, drunkenness and other debauchery) that are generally considered uncivilized and unbecoming. Publicly urinating, defecating or having sex and/or talking about it is suddenly allowed.
Political power?
Some would therefore cast Carnival as serving a political function; in this space and time, we have the ability to not only imagine but perform a world in which the fundamental power structures governing our lives are completely opposite, thus pointing out that such systems are not unchangeable. However, others have contested this view.
No effects
Ultimately, many critics argue that Carnival and by extension humor have no effect. Rhetorical critics such as Joanne Gilbert suggest that Carnival is contained by spatial and temporal limits–the space and time of the individual celebration, like Bourbon Street, New Orleans during Mardi Gras, or other streets on the parade route during a parade. During this time and in these spaces, new rules might apply (Note: the N.O.P.D. will tell you they don’t; all laws are still very much enforced).
Further, these spaces and times are predetermined and sanctioned by the governing institutions–we had to obtain permits and set boundaries (physical as well as the times that it begins and ends). Because of this limiting and sanctioning process, Gilbert argues, there is little possibility for revolutionary political action; people will act in a manner predetermined by the authorities as acceptable, for a relatively short period of time and within a specified space, then everything will return to normal (see also Eagleton; Harold; Stam; and Stallybrass & White).
Lenny Bruce example
While not using the term carnivalesque, Gilbert also finds a similar argument for a lack of effects in the work of John Limon. Limon finds the reception of Lenny Bruce’s act to depend on a state Limon calls “inrage,” particularly characterized by the audience’s response to the following joke by Bruce [that I’ve talked about before]:
If you’ve, er [pause]
Heard this bit before. I want you to tell me.
Stop me if you’ve seen it.
I’m going to piss on you.
Limon finds this joke (which we know is a joke because it’s followed by an unprecedented seventeen seconds of laughter) to rely on a condition in which Bruce’s audience demands to be outraged; thus Bruce replies with obscenity.
However, because they asked for it (and expected to get it), the obscenity cannot be truly outrageous; thus the paradox: “they demand not to be outraged” by the outrageous (16). It would seem that the audience’s expectations have limited humor’s ability even to upset them. Because of this, Limon notes that in the legal prosecution of Lenny Bruce the court was not acting on behalf of any audience, but on behalf of a theoretical society that may not actually exist–no one in the actual audience was upset.
This is the same as the space of Carnival, where the expectation of rule violation creates a contained space in which the rules are allowed and expected to be inverted, thus seemingly no real political work can be done. But this is to equate outrage with political action, which is an oversimplification.
Pressure Valve
Once again, Relief theorists might propose that these inversions of behavior represented by a simple carnivalesque serve a system maintenance function, providing a release of tension that preempts the need for civic unrest, but this is not the ability for citizens to act in politically meaningful ways that some people who use the term carnivalesque propose.
Reinforcing the rules
Further, although hierarchies are inverted within the space and time of Carnival, they are ultimately endorsed. First off, Carnival calls attention to specific rules that may already have been points of tension–no one bothers to act on rules that they don’t notice. And especially when we know that things will return to normal, all we’ve really done is heighten awareness of these rules.
The inversion of the existing hierarchy and standards of decorum, especially when cast as a “safety valve” for a portion of society prone to outright rebellion (e.g. those at the bottom of the social ladder), suggests not that the hierarchy and standards are unnecessary, but instead that they are essential. The inversion reinforces that we have these rules for a reason.
In fact, the temporary inversion only works in a relationship in which the existing hierarchy and rules of decorum are perceived as the norm; the reversal of the normal can only be seen as “letting off steam” to the extent that it is temporary, and that things will soon return to normal.
Inverting versus subverting
At base, the problem is that when you invert the rules, you set up a system in which we have these particular rules, or we have the opposite – but nothing else. We have one hierarchy or its opposite, but there is still a hierarchy. The structure remains intact.
This is a reaction to the rules, when what we need is a response. A true subversion of the rules would be to come up with completely different set of rules that change the whole system. And yes, that is a tall order.
We can see this logic of the simple carnival play out in some critic’s work, leading them to argue that humor doesn’t really do anything. Here I’ll give the example of Joanne Gilbert.
Gilbert example
Gilbert argues that comics are empowered in that they are able to develop a unique voice and get paid for it. She also believes that comics are “politically operant,” able to act in the world. However, the scope of their operations are severely limited.
For Gilbert, humor is always hostile (i.e. coming from Superiority theory, though in some moments, she reverts to the language of Relief theory). More to the point, she believes that humor operates in a (simple) carnivalesque space.
The key passage to understanding Gilbert’s theory of what humor can do is, for me, this one:
Although [comics] do not allocate resources or single-handedly transform existing social structures, by performing a subversive discourse they depict and exert pressure upon existing social conditions. Through humor, they call attention to cultural fissures and fault lines (177).
The use of the terms “subversive” and “exerts pressure” may distract from Gilbert’s main thesis, which is that the comic merely “calls attention” to pre-existing problems. Such a call only works in a system where problems are already known.
Because of Gilbert’s reliance on the simple form of carnivalesque characterized by inversion, she effectively argues that calling attention does not subvert the system, it only inverts it via negation; the true subversion would have to happen later, in a different space. The structure remains unchanged. Because, for Gilbert, humor must always be hostile (although it may sometimes also relieve tension), and because humor is partitioned off from political action by its carnivalesque space, it cannot bring us anything new; it cannot create a cultural fissure or fault line, it only draws attention to those already known – a lesser political function. In short, it cannot be political action, but only, in Augusto Boal’s opinion, a “rehearsal for the revolution” (122).
This is somewhat analogous to the more simplistic theories of irony and parody [I’ll get these up soon]; because the simple carnivalesque is merely a negation of the status quo, like simple irony and parody it cannot subvert the status quo – it cannot serve the function of Guy Debord’s détournement, the detour, diversion, hijacking, corruption or misappropriation of the spectacle [I’ll get this up soon too].
Summary
Thus we have the following:
- Carnival is relegated to specific times and spaces, therefore it will not produce any lasting effects.
- Carnival is sanctioned by the powers that be, and therefore cannot subvert those powers.
- If it does anything, Carnival releases tension, which prevents real political action from taking place.
- Carnival reinforces the rules by calling attention to them.
- Carnival merely inverts the power hierarchy, thus reinforcing the idea of a hierarchy.
In this view of the simple carnivalesque, as in Huizinga, play is preparatory to social-political life; that is, we can learn through play without fearing the repercussions of failure, but also without hope of success. However, if we reexamine the notion of Carnival, we may find hope; true Carnivals are not so simply cordoned off from political action.
Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Additions?
References:
Bakhtin, Mikhail. Rabelais and His World. Trans. H. Iswolsky. Cambridge, MA: MIT, 1968.
—. Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics. Trans. C. Emerson. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1984.
Boal, Augusto. Theater of the Oppressed. New York: Theatre Communications Group, 1985.
Cicero, Marcus Tullius. De officiis. Trans. Walter Miller. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1913.
Debord, Guy. The Society of the Spectacle. Trans. Donald Nicholson-Smith. New York: Zone, 1994.
Eagleton, Terry. Walter Benjamin or Towards a Revolutionary Criticism. London: Verso, 1981.
—. The Ideology of the Aesthetic.Cambridge, MA: Basil Blackwell, 1990.
Fiske, John. Television Culture. New York: Routledge, 1987.
Gilbert, Joanne. Performing Marginality: Humor, Gender and Cultural Critique. Detroit, MI: Wayne State University, 2004.
Hariman, Robert. “Decorum, Power and the Courtly Style:” Quarterly Journal of Speech 78 (1992): 149-172.
Harold, Christine. “Pranking Rhetoric: ‘Culture Jamming’ as Media Activism.” Critical Studies in Media Communication 21.3 (2004): 189-211.
Huizinga, Johan. Homo Ludens: A Study of the Play Element in Culture. New York: Harper-Row, 1970.
Limon, John. Stand-Up Comedy in Theory, or, Abjection in America. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2000.
Miller, Toby. The Well-Tempered Self: Citizenship, Culture and the Postmodern Subject. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins, 1993.
Stallybrass, P. and A. White. The Politics and Poetics of Transgression. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University, 1986.
Stam, Robert. Subversive Pleasures: Bakhtin, Cultural Criticism and Film. Johns Hopkins, 1989.
Wilson, Nathan. Was That Supposed to be Funny? A Rhetorical Analysis of Politics, Problems and Contradictions in Contemporary Stand-Up Comedy. Dissertation in partial completion of the Ph.D. August, 2008.
This isn’t the only way to cut it, some make the distinction between social and political. In an interview with Neal Conan on National Public Radio, Lewis Black describes himself as a ‘social’ (or perhaps ‘topical’) comic, not a political comic, because he draws material from whatever is in the news that excites him, from Superbowl half-time performances to the weather.A lot of comedians have bits about growing up Mexican, but I feel like [immigration] is one of those things where people think they might hurt endorsements or it might make them seem too political if they talk about it. People are scared to touch it. I like to consider myself a hip-hop comic, somebody that is going to say something of substance. And that’s what I’m working towards.
The country has fuck-up fatigue. [Laughter] Which is what happens when the guy [George W. Bush] fucks up so much that when he fucks up again, people go [Resignedly] “Well, what do you expect. [Laughter] He’s a fuck-up.” And that’s fucked up! [Laughter]
A topic on my list of things to cover in this blog are statements of “just kidding” and “I’m joking.” 
When I explained to a friend recently that the subject matter of most comedy is tragic (drunkenness, overweight, financial problems, accidents, etc.) he said, “Do you mean to tell me that the dreadful events of the day are a fit subject for humorous comment? The answer is “No, but they will be pretty soon.”