PINE NUTS: Mark Twain and a Discriminating Irreverence
Mark Twain tells us, "A discriminating irreverence is the protector of human liberty." Drawn not from the warrior's quiver, Twain's irreverence is drawn from the artist's pallet. "Laughter, without a thread of philosophy woven into it, is but a sneeze at humor, genuine humor is replete with wisdom. And if a piece of humor is to last, it must do two things, it must preach and it must teach. If done effectively, that piece of humor will last forever -which is thirty years."
So it happened that Twain effectively used his humor like the wheel on an opera glass, to focus our attentions on more serious matters at hand. In fact, Samuel Clemens once described the humor of his good friend William Dean Howells in such a manner as to mirror his own craft.
"His is a humor which flows softly all around, about and over and through the mesh of the page, pervasive, refreshing, health-giving, and makes no more show and no more noise than does the circulation of the blood."
Unlike the comedian, the humorist is not looking for a laugh. The humorist is merely showing us the good-natured side of the truth, and hoping for a nod of acknowledgement, or the hint of a smile. Twain would not kick a crooked politician in the shin, but would place a bench strategically in his path so he would bark his own shin. Because of his conviction that only a dead man can tell the truth, he asked that his autobiography be published a hundred years after his death. He rails against human foibles and humbuggery, yes, but he does it with a scalpel, not a club.
"Our race, in its poverty, has unquestionably one really effective weapon -laughter. Power, money, persuasion, supplication, persecution -these can lift a colossal humbug -push it a little -weaken it a little, century by century; but only laughter can blow it to rags and atoms at a blast. Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand."
People sometimes ask, “If Mark Twain were alive today, what might he say about Russia & Ukraine?”
Well, I did see an anecdote that to my mind, reflects a strain of satire that Mark Twain might approve of today…
Vladimir Putin dies and is sent to the furthest corner of perdition, and after a while, he is given a day off for good behavior. So he goes to Moscow, enters a bar, orders a drink, and asks the bartender…
“Is Crimea ours?”
“Yes, it is.”
“And the Donbas?”
“Also ours.”
Satisfied, Putin finishes his drink, and asks, “Thanks, how much do I owe you?”
“Five euros.”
We only wish Samuel Clemens could be with us today. Happily, Mark Twain is alive and well in the library…
