As the whole "zombie craze" has gone from slightly amusing (6 years ago) to incredibly annoying (the past 4 or 5 years), I usually limit my zombie intake. However, Shaun of the Dead has always been good for a laugh. The great thing about it is Shaun's complete and utter oblivion of the undead. He goes about his life wondering around, not paying any attention to his surroundings. This doesn't change once the outbreak occurs. He even flips through the television channels and ignores the news channels completely. Once he finally decides to pay attention, he's interrupted because a zombie is in his yard. Even here, Shaun and Ed think she's drunk. I think one of the funniest aspects of the movie is that juxtaposition between what the audience expects to happen and what actually happens (or doesn't happen, rather). First, the audience expects zombies from the very beginning, and the movie fakes everyone out multiple times with slow, or bored looking people. Then, once zombies start showing up, we expect our hero to notice and act immediately, but he fails to do so because he, too, is bored and jaded. By the time the woman shows up in his yard, his world (and the audience) is screaming at him to notice that something is horribly wrong, and one more time, he fails. It's hilarious because even when he is looking straight into the face of a zombie, he laughs and calls her drunk while the audience laughs at him and his blindness to the situation.
Over the last semester, I've come to define British Comedy in that way: Blindness to the Situation. I guess it goes back to our very first reading of Bergson, (I'm heavily paraphrasing) that the more oblivious a character is to his ridiculousness, the more comedic he or she is. The second I read that, I got a blinding flash of Dwight from The Office (American). I know that the British are not the only culture to use comedy in such a way, but I don't think they need to be. In fact, I find that despite the minor differences between British and American comedy, the core is the same. Really, its just the presentation that differs. Now, I don't speak French, but one example of this is Eddie Izzard. The special we watched for class was performed in both America and England AND he did a translation into French. Now, some words or phrases may have been changed here and there, but I'm GUESSING the core of the show remained the same. If each culture was defined by one or two certain types of comedy, the show would not translate. I'm not saying that the content of comedy is not cultural, it is. However, what makes something funny is much more universal.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
The Office/Holland
First of all, it wasn't specified which episode of The Office, so I just watched one or two from the first season of the British version. Holland writes that, "the comic man admits he is only human, knowing that that admission 'is itself the condition of his life being tolerable'" (96). Being a huge fan of the American version of The Office, in the few episodes of the British version that I've watched, I can see that Michael's character is very close to David's. This quote is perfect for those characters. David is so incredibly flawed that each episode is the realization that he is only human. For example, one of my favorite parts of the first episode occurs in the first five minutes of the episode. David calls his friend to fill a job in the warehouse and he asks if his friend's wife has left him yet. She has. He'd forgotten. But what can you expect? He's only human.
Holland also says that, "the subject matter of comedy is 'the abnormal' set against a social norm" and that the comic catharsis is "purely the keeping of social balance" (92). The thing that makes The Office great is how absolutely inappropriate and ridiculous the boss is. The "crack of Dawn" joke in the first episode and the sexual jokes about the new employee in the second episode are both perfect examples of this. In an actual workplace, this would be horrible, disgusting, and probably earn a lawsuit or two. However, because it's in a position to be laughed at, we laugh. We laugh because it is out of the "social balance" and we wish to correct it. We know the norm and the correct way to behave in the workplace, so when that is thwarted for comedic purposes, it is funny.
Finally, in the beginning of this section of Holland, he discusses humor in drama. "When the audience knows something the characters don't know, they feel safe. Hence, they can identify with the characters' fear, embarrassment, and anger for the catharsis of those feelings" (89-90). A perfect example is the "talking heads" throughout the series. Many times the Tim (Jim) character will give away a prank he is pulling on Gareth (Dwight) or another character will divulge some other type of secret. In this way, the audience learns key facts that will make them feel "safe" or "in" on the joke and able to laugh.
Holland also says that, "the subject matter of comedy is 'the abnormal' set against a social norm" and that the comic catharsis is "purely the keeping of social balance" (92). The thing that makes The Office great is how absolutely inappropriate and ridiculous the boss is. The "crack of Dawn" joke in the first episode and the sexual jokes about the new employee in the second episode are both perfect examples of this. In an actual workplace, this would be horrible, disgusting, and probably earn a lawsuit or two. However, because it's in a position to be laughed at, we laugh. We laugh because it is out of the "social balance" and we wish to correct it. We know the norm and the correct way to behave in the workplace, so when that is thwarted for comedic purposes, it is funny.
Finally, in the beginning of this section of Holland, he discusses humor in drama. "When the audience knows something the characters don't know, they feel safe. Hence, they can identify with the characters' fear, embarrassment, and anger for the catharsis of those feelings" (89-90). A perfect example is the "talking heads" throughout the series. Many times the Tim (Jim) character will give away a prank he is pulling on Gareth (Dwight) or another character will divulge some other type of secret. In this way, the audience learns key facts that will make them feel "safe" or "in" on the joke and able to laugh.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Dress to Kill
I was totally surprised to see Eddie Izzard. I don't know why, but I was picturing a black guy. Nope. I certainly wasn't expecting a transvestite, but then, who really ever expects a transvestite? Anyway, I think that goes back to what Stott said about how comedians look. According to him, comedians can't look totally normal and super attractive because we don't trust that. I agree with that completely (although I can think of exceptions. Dane Cook is wildly successful and, in some opinions, quite attractive). It's true, but it's also a double edged sword. In Eddie Izzard's case, we trust him because he is not conventionally attractive. However, since he is so unconventional, he actually has to live up to his look. We expect someone who looks that strange to be extremely funny. Otherwise, it's just a weird guy bombing on stage, which is worse than a normal guy bombing on stage because at least the normal guy didn't get our hopes up.
Eddie Izzard also talks about the difference between British and American styles (if not comedy directly). He talks about the British role in Star Wars. "It's just the rebels, sir. They're here." It was very deadpan. Then the response, "Do they want tea?" I don't really have any connections to make, it just struck me funny and reminded me of the differences we pointed out about British comedy, specifically. It seems to me, British comedy is all about slapstick or it's completely deadpan. The deadpan of how he delivered the line was absolutely hilarious and very "British." He also compares the message sent from the movie The Great Escape to American and British kids. Americans get away with things and live to tell the tale, the British plan and work out logistics, all to be shot in the head.
His history jokes were probably my favorite. I loved the part about the pilgrims arriving on Plymouth rock and making fun of the Native Americans, then coming back in winter for food. Also, the moon landing was crazy amounts of funny. The idea of faking a monster attack, with Buzz Aldrin in a monster suit chasing Neil Armstrong around is so ludicrous but it would have been such a hilarious prank to play on the entire planet. I mean, if I had the chance to prank the ENTIRE planet... I might have to take it. It's really too bad they didn't think to do that.
Eddie Izzard also talks about the difference between British and American styles (if not comedy directly). He talks about the British role in Star Wars. "It's just the rebels, sir. They're here." It was very deadpan. Then the response, "Do they want tea?" I don't really have any connections to make, it just struck me funny and reminded me of the differences we pointed out about British comedy, specifically. It seems to me, British comedy is all about slapstick or it's completely deadpan. The deadpan of how he delivered the line was absolutely hilarious and very "British." He also compares the message sent from the movie The Great Escape to American and British kids. Americans get away with things and live to tell the tale, the British plan and work out logistics, all to be shot in the head.
His history jokes were probably my favorite. I loved the part about the pilgrims arriving on Plymouth rock and making fun of the Native Americans, then coming back in winter for food. Also, the moon landing was crazy amounts of funny. The idea of faking a monster attack, with Buzz Aldrin in a monster suit chasing Neil Armstrong around is so ludicrous but it would have been such a hilarious prank to play on the entire planet. I mean, if I had the chance to prank the ENTIRE planet... I might have to take it. It's really too bad they didn't think to do that.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
AbFab
I know I've heard of Absolutely Fabulous and seen clips of it (for the DVD set, yours today for only $29.99!), but I've never actually watched it. Oh my goodness was I missing out! That episode, "Fashion," was hilarious! I loved it. I was completely amazed that the first "line of dialogue" (if you could call it that) from the main character on the first episode of the first season of the show, was her blowing a giant raspberry. Holland says that Freud would argue one cause for laughter is, "the use of the sound instead of the sense of a word" (48). Personally, I was expecting a verbal answer to her wake-up calls, but was put entirely off guard when she instead blew that raspberry! It was certainly a joke in Freud's terms.
Freud also claims that in the comic, "we see an expectation defeated" (50). I found the mother-daughter relationship particularly funny. This is because the general expectation is that the mother will be the responsible one, keeping her teenager in line. In Absolutely Fabulous, however, just the opposite occurs. The daughter calls for her mother to wake up, makes breakfast, makes coffee, and urging her mother not to drink. She even goes so far as to threaten punishment (moving out) if her mother does not quit drinking. Of course, in a different context, this could be quite a sad story, but the attitudes of the characters and the mood of the story (aided by the unceasing one-liners) invites the audience to remove our emotions of concern and pity and to just laugh.
Holland explains Freud's theory that "In tendentious joking, not only do we get the pleasure of the word play or jesting, but we also gratify forbidden impulses" (48). I was quite stricken when I read this section because of the simplicity and obviousness of it. Of course that's why we like to joke! Of course that's why we think things are funny! Because we can't actually do them! Michael (of the American Office) is so hilarious because he's so wildly inappropriate! No boss would ever be allowed to do what he does, and no employee would ever want to work for him, yet millions of Americans tune in every week and crack up laughing. AbFab is the same way. No one really wants to be a crazy, irresponsible lush who is also completely self involved. But part of us does. Maybe just for a day or an hour, but we laugh at her because we want to be her! She's hilarious because she is what we want to be, again, at least for a little while. She's confident, she seems to be enjoying her life, she doesn't care what other people think or say. She's her own person and she's, well, fabulous! What more could you want?
By the way, I'm sorry this is late. I ended up passing out last night before I finished. One thing I keep forgetting to add, Netflix has the old Hitchhiker's Guide TV show which is, so far, surprisingly accurate. It's almost line-by-line, which I never imagined could be done. Anyway, if you have a chance, check it out. It's on instant play. Finally, have a Happy Thanksgiving!
Freud also claims that in the comic, "we see an expectation defeated" (50). I found the mother-daughter relationship particularly funny. This is because the general expectation is that the mother will be the responsible one, keeping her teenager in line. In Absolutely Fabulous, however, just the opposite occurs. The daughter calls for her mother to wake up, makes breakfast, makes coffee, and urging her mother not to drink. She even goes so far as to threaten punishment (moving out) if her mother does not quit drinking. Of course, in a different context, this could be quite a sad story, but the attitudes of the characters and the mood of the story (aided by the unceasing one-liners) invites the audience to remove our emotions of concern and pity and to just laugh.
Holland explains Freud's theory that "In tendentious joking, not only do we get the pleasure of the word play or jesting, but we also gratify forbidden impulses" (48). I was quite stricken when I read this section because of the simplicity and obviousness of it. Of course that's why we like to joke! Of course that's why we think things are funny! Because we can't actually do them! Michael (of the American Office) is so hilarious because he's so wildly inappropriate! No boss would ever be allowed to do what he does, and no employee would ever want to work for him, yet millions of Americans tune in every week and crack up laughing. AbFab is the same way. No one really wants to be a crazy, irresponsible lush who is also completely self involved. But part of us does. Maybe just for a day or an hour, but we laugh at her because we want to be her! She's hilarious because she is what we want to be, again, at least for a little while. She's confident, she seems to be enjoying her life, she doesn't care what other people think or say. She's her own person and she's, well, fabulous! What more could you want?
By the way, I'm sorry this is late. I ended up passing out last night before I finished. One thing I keep forgetting to add, Netflix has the old Hitchhiker's Guide TV show which is, so far, surprisingly accurate. It's almost line-by-line, which I never imagined could be done. Anyway, if you have a chance, check it out. It's on instant play. Finally, have a Happy Thanksgiving!
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Mr. Bean and Mr. Stott
The first thing I noticed about Mr. Bean was how incessantly annoying the laugh track is. I've always been aware of laugh tracks but I think after the first week of this class I will forever be annoyed by them. I thought I knew Mr. Bean. I've never really been very interested in him, but I thought I knew enough about the character. Evidently, I was wrong. I was struck by the almost non-existent dialogue of the show. I had no idea it was purely physical comedy. It reminded me very much of a silent movie, which is why I concentrated on that aspect of Stott's chapter. He writes, "moving pictures were soundless until 1926, forcing humour to be silent and visual" (92). Mr. Bean takes you back to Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton. His over emphasized physical humour spreads through the entire show. In the first scene, he lays down in fear on the widest high dive in history, then at the sight of the boys in line, swiftly stands up and leans nonchalantly on the rail. Once he does that, he tries to coolly find his way off the board and into the pool, failing miserably. He doesn't say a word during this entire scene, but his body says so much. It, of course, ends with the visual comedy of his swim trunks floating in the water.
Stott continues, in his section about slapstick, that the slapstick comedian is an "awkward...loner, who found [himself] swimming against the tide of modern living. Thrust as innocents into a world that they had never apparently encountered before...." (93). This passage brings to mind both the lunch scene and the stoplight scene. In the stoplight scene, Mr. Bean doesn't seem to realize that by the time he pushes his car past the light, it would be green. He doesn't seem to be a part of the world in which cars stop at stoplights. Just because a biker can bypass it, doesn't mean he can just get out and push his car. He's certainly swimming against the tide of modern living. It's absurd. In the lunch scene, though, is where the passage really comes to light. He not only goes against the tide by not bringing an easily prepared lunch. Mr. Bean seems absolutely out of touch with reality! He's cutting bread with scissors, smashing pepper with a shoe, making tea in a hot water bottle, and (for some reason) putting lettuce in his (used) sock. It doesn't make sense at all. It's inconvenient for Mr. Bean, it's weird to everyone else, and it's just all around impractical. Mr. Bean has apparently never encountered a world in which one makes his lunch before going to the park, or buys it on the way.
I didn't think I would be able to use much of the "Female Body" section of Stott's chapter, but I actually found it applicable from the get-go. It, too, talks about the silent film era. "Women who occupy the roles traditionally considered sacrosanct by men, the romantic partner or the mother, could not be represented as either physical or humorous in slapstick cinema, whereas the old or the unattractive could" (97). Obviously, that's changed little from the silent era to Mr. Bean's time. This woman did not do any of the slapstick, but was rather a victim of Mr. Bean's comedy. She was not represented as humorous at all. She got the comically tiny box of popcorn while Mr. Bean got the comically large and refused to share. She was the victim of his over dramatized "scare tactics." She was laughed at, but not herself humorous. She was, of course, the butt of the joke.
Stott continues, in his section about slapstick, that the slapstick comedian is an "awkward...loner, who found [himself] swimming against the tide of modern living. Thrust as innocents into a world that they had never apparently encountered before...." (93). This passage brings to mind both the lunch scene and the stoplight scene. In the stoplight scene, Mr. Bean doesn't seem to realize that by the time he pushes his car past the light, it would be green. He doesn't seem to be a part of the world in which cars stop at stoplights. Just because a biker can bypass it, doesn't mean he can just get out and push his car. He's certainly swimming against the tide of modern living. It's absurd. In the lunch scene, though, is where the passage really comes to light. He not only goes against the tide by not bringing an easily prepared lunch. Mr. Bean seems absolutely out of touch with reality! He's cutting bread with scissors, smashing pepper with a shoe, making tea in a hot water bottle, and (for some reason) putting lettuce in his (used) sock. It doesn't make sense at all. It's inconvenient for Mr. Bean, it's weird to everyone else, and it's just all around impractical. Mr. Bean has apparently never encountered a world in which one makes his lunch before going to the park, or buys it on the way.
I didn't think I would be able to use much of the "Female Body" section of Stott's chapter, but I actually found it applicable from the get-go. It, too, talks about the silent film era. "Women who occupy the roles traditionally considered sacrosanct by men, the romantic partner or the mother, could not be represented as either physical or humorous in slapstick cinema, whereas the old or the unattractive could" (97). Obviously, that's changed little from the silent era to Mr. Bean's time. This woman did not do any of the slapstick, but was rather a victim of Mr. Bean's comedy. She was not represented as humorous at all. She got the comically tiny box of popcorn while Mr. Bean got the comically large and refused to share. She was the victim of his over dramatized "scare tactics." She was laughed at, but not herself humorous. She was, of course, the butt of the joke.
Monday, November 15, 2010
The Young Ones / Holland
The first thing I thought when watching The Young Ones was, "Is that Drop Dead Fred??" One of the movies that defined my childhood stars Rik Mayall. So that was entertaining. Anyway, I found the episode extremely funny. My favorite character was probably Neil (or the tall one with long hair if I got his name wrong). I found his comments to be some of the more hilarious. Holland's opening lines to his book, Laughing: A Psychology of Humor, are both very true and very well demonstrated in The Young Ones. The book opens, "We don't understand it and we don't quite trust it. Those are for me the two most immediate and obvious facts about the comic" (15). I think his point about not trusting comedy is extremely truthful. Comedy often makes us uncomfortable, not necessarily due to content, but because we don't always know where a joke is going. I'm thinking of stand-up comedians whose jokes have a long set-up and the audience doesn't exactly know what they're being asked to laugh at until the punchline. It's uncomfortable to not know because the unknown is untrustworthy. A different example of this is toward the beginning of the episode, "Time," Rick calls Neil a hairy elephant, to which Neil replies that a hairy elephant would be a mammoth and that a mammoth isn't really so hairy as it is woolly. This struck me as "distrustful" because Rick is being completely serious, whereas Neil is using his own insult as a way to outwit him.
Later on, Holland says, closely resembling Bergson in part, that, "We distinguish, therefore, laughing at and laughing with someone, because laughter, by withholding pity, can serve as a weapon. We attack individuals, types, institutions, even deities by laughing at them" (17). I thought the incredibly long bit about Rick's virginity pertained to this quote. Vyvyan's constant badgering (although "badgering" is an understatement) is making fun of Rick as an individual and as a type (the type being "virgin"). He is also obviously not feeling or expressing much pity for his friend's "plight." Rather, he is very definitely laughing at Rick and not with him, and it indeed serves as a weapon of humiliation and low self esteem. It makes Rick feel attacked and the urge to defend himself. Against what? The weapon of laughter.
Finally, Holland writes, "We laugh, perhaps, when something is valued and disvalued at the same time, for example, when a person is treated as a thing, as in a slapstick routine at the circus. This brings to mind the light bulb changing scene in The Young Ones. Neil, despite his suggestion to "get a step stool" is instead, inexplicably, being catapulted into the air in order to change a light bulb. This is obviously absurd, especially when Neil asks why they are doing it this way and the reply is that they already have all the mathematics of the situation worked out. I especially loved his joke, "How many roommates does it take to change a light bulb? One, I'm the only one who does anything around here!" (That's a loose quote). Anyway, in the light bulb scene, Neil is being treated as an object- a sort of boulder with Piper Halliwell-esque time freezing capabilities who can change a light bulb whilst flying through the air.
My overall impression of The Young Ones (if you even care) is that I enjoyed watching it, and I would enjoy watching it again if the opportunity arose, but I don't know how likely I am to seek out more episodes on YouTube.
Later on, Holland says, closely resembling Bergson in part, that, "We distinguish, therefore, laughing at and laughing with someone, because laughter, by withholding pity, can serve as a weapon. We attack individuals, types, institutions, even deities by laughing at them" (17). I thought the incredibly long bit about Rick's virginity pertained to this quote. Vyvyan's constant badgering (although "badgering" is an understatement) is making fun of Rick as an individual and as a type (the type being "virgin"). He is also obviously not feeling or expressing much pity for his friend's "plight." Rather, he is very definitely laughing at Rick and not with him, and it indeed serves as a weapon of humiliation and low self esteem. It makes Rick feel attacked and the urge to defend himself. Against what? The weapon of laughter.
Finally, Holland writes, "We laugh, perhaps, when something is valued and disvalued at the same time, for example, when a person is treated as a thing, as in a slapstick routine at the circus. This brings to mind the light bulb changing scene in The Young Ones. Neil, despite his suggestion to "get a step stool" is instead, inexplicably, being catapulted into the air in order to change a light bulb. This is obviously absurd, especially when Neil asks why they are doing it this way and the reply is that they already have all the mathematics of the situation worked out. I especially loved his joke, "How many roommates does it take to change a light bulb? One, I'm the only one who does anything around here!" (That's a loose quote). Anyway, in the light bulb scene, Neil is being treated as an object- a sort of boulder with Piper Halliwell-esque time freezing capabilities who can change a light bulb whilst flying through the air.
My overall impression of The Young Ones (if you even care) is that I enjoyed watching it, and I would enjoy watching it again if the opportunity arose, but I don't know how likely I am to seek out more episodes on YouTube.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
The Hitchhiker's Guide Part 2
I realized too late that while I knew that I was using a different version of the book, I did not realize my page numbers would be so very different. So, if any of my quotes for today's post are from Monday's reading, I apologize. If I'm correct, we should have finished the novel today on page 170-something for you guys. My book goes to page 216, so you can see how I'm unsure of what to post. Anywho, here we go...
When Ford and Arthur are on the Vogon ship, about to be spewed into space, Arthur asks Ford if there's anything else that could save them, Ford fakes seeing some "switch" but quickly says, "'No, I was only fooling,'" and then, "'we are going to die after all" (75). Ford's morbid sense of humor is crazy at a time of intense peril. If this novel had a different tone, that could have been a moment of extreme suspense. But, due to Adams' absurd tone and method, the audience can't help but not take the situation seriously. It is even funnier given his friend's panic and confusion. A good friend would try to comfort him at this moment, but Ford does just the opposite. A fake out.
Another example of some morbid humor (apparently I'm in a morbid mood tonight) is, well, anything with Marvin. More specifically, however, at almost the very end of the novel. He tells Ford about how he got bored, plugged himself into the spaceship computer (which is incessantly cheerful at all times) and explained his view of the universe to it. "'What happened?' pressed Ford," and he was answered with, "'It committed suicide'" (214). Despite how awful the movie version of the book is, I cannot read the novel anymore without hearing Alan Rickman's voice as Marvin. Despite the downfalls of the movie, his contribution was genius. Also, the thought of the astoundingly happy computer committing suicide because of Marvin's intense depression is a little hilarious.
Finally, one of my favorite parts of the novel is the spontaneous generation of a sperm whale and his thought process before his unfortunate demise (I really am morbid tonight, aren't I?). His first words go something like this:
"Er, excuse me, who am I?
Hello?
Why am I here? What's my purpose in life?
What do I mean by who am I?" (134)
I love that the whale goes straight to metaphysical questions, pondering his existence and the meaning of life. It's really interesting that he can leap into existence, ask metaphysical questions and then hope that the ground will be his friend mere moments before his demise. He's at once naive and innocent and also a deep thinker. The petunias, however, which leapt into existence along with the whale, thought only, "oh no, not again" (135). The comparison of these two spontaneous beings further implies the comedy as the whale is evidently a new being, just trying to figure life out while the petunias have inexplicably been here before.
When Ford and Arthur are on the Vogon ship, about to be spewed into space, Arthur asks Ford if there's anything else that could save them, Ford fakes seeing some "switch" but quickly says, "'No, I was only fooling,'" and then, "'we are going to die after all" (75). Ford's morbid sense of humor is crazy at a time of intense peril. If this novel had a different tone, that could have been a moment of extreme suspense. But, due to Adams' absurd tone and method, the audience can't help but not take the situation seriously. It is even funnier given his friend's panic and confusion. A good friend would try to comfort him at this moment, but Ford does just the opposite. A fake out.
Another example of some morbid humor (apparently I'm in a morbid mood tonight) is, well, anything with Marvin. More specifically, however, at almost the very end of the novel. He tells Ford about how he got bored, plugged himself into the spaceship computer (which is incessantly cheerful at all times) and explained his view of the universe to it. "'What happened?' pressed Ford," and he was answered with, "'It committed suicide'" (214). Despite how awful the movie version of the book is, I cannot read the novel anymore without hearing Alan Rickman's voice as Marvin. Despite the downfalls of the movie, his contribution was genius. Also, the thought of the astoundingly happy computer committing suicide because of Marvin's intense depression is a little hilarious.
Finally, one of my favorite parts of the novel is the spontaneous generation of a sperm whale and his thought process before his unfortunate demise (I really am morbid tonight, aren't I?). His first words go something like this:
"Er, excuse me, who am I?
Hello?
Why am I here? What's my purpose in life?
What do I mean by who am I?" (134)
I love that the whale goes straight to metaphysical questions, pondering his existence and the meaning of life. It's really interesting that he can leap into existence, ask metaphysical questions and then hope that the ground will be his friend mere moments before his demise. He's at once naive and innocent and also a deep thinker. The petunias, however, which leapt into existence along with the whale, thought only, "oh no, not again" (135). The comparison of these two spontaneous beings further implies the comedy as the whale is evidently a new being, just trying to figure life out while the petunias have inexplicably been here before.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)