HUMOR:
Addison, Stevenson, Lamb.
Mere correctness in sentence structure (grammar) may be purely scientific; but the art of rhetoric is so wrapped up with human emotion that the study of human nature counts for infinitely more than the theory of arrangement, figures of speech, etc., Unless the student has some idea how the human mind works (his own mind and the minds of his readers), he will make little or no progress in his study of this subject. Professional teachers ignore this almost completely, and that is one reason why they so often fail; and it is also a reason why persons who do not go to them for training so often succeed: the latter class finds that knowledge of the human heart makes up for many deficiencies.
The first important consideration is good nature. It is not often that we can use words to compel; we must win; and it is an old proverb that “more flies are caught with molasses than with vinegar.” The novice in writing is always too serious, even to morbidness, too “fierce,” too arrogant and domineering in his whole thought and feeling. Sometimes such a person compels attention, but not often. The universal way is to attract, win over, please. Most of the arts of formal rhetoric are arts of making language pleasing; but what is the value of knowing the theory in regard to these devices when the spirit of pleasing is absent?
We must go at our work gently and good-naturedly, and then there will be no straining or morbidness or repulsiveness of manner. But all this finds its consummation in what is called humor.
Humor is a thing that can be cultivated, even learned; and it is one of the most important things in the whole art of writing.
We will not attempt to say just what humor is. The effort could bring no results of value. Suffice it to say that there is implanted in most of us a sense of the ridiculous—of the incongruous. If a thing is a little too big or a little too small for the place it is intended to fill, for some occult reason we regard it as funny. The difference of a hair seems to tickle us, whereas a great difference does not produce that kind of effect at all.
We may secure humor by introducing into our writing the slightest possible exaggeration which will result in the slightest possible incongruity. Of course this presupposes that we understand the facts in a most thorough and delicate way. Our language is not precisely representative of things as they are, but it proves better than any other language that we know just what the truth is.
Humor is the touchstone by which we ought to try ourselves and our work.
It will prevent our getting very far away from what is normal and natural.