Original author 丨 (English) Mary Beard
Translated by 丨 Wang Di
Excerpt from 丨 Dong Muzi
The Romans invented jokes?
There is no such thing as a "first joke" in this world (even on a small scale in the Western world). Any claim about where the "joke" originated would fall apart when confronted with the question of definition. How is jokes different from other verbal amuse? Does a witty aphorism, a parable, or a pun count as a joke? If laughter is as old as humans themselves, can we imagine that in the history of interpersonal communication, laughter was not triggered by language?
But by the time Gracimus showed up on stage and claimed to be selling jokes and joke books in exchange for a delicious dinner, we were already in a world of distinctive, self-explanatory jokes. Jokes here become some kind of commodity. Although the scene itself is a joke, Grasimus's gag still has value. They play a role in a system of exchange. These things exist independently of the rigger; in Saturio's story, they can even be passed down from generation to generation. At the same time, they have their own history; in Terrence's Castration, Traso tells a joke about the Rhodes kid, from which we can actually recognize that the history of a joke is both part of its main idea and its laugh point.
However, despite the strong Roman comedy, we still see some traces of déjà vu. In the modern world, jokes are often part of the system of exchange. We will exchange jokes. We would tell jokes like a game. For us, they can also be commodities with genealogy and value. Some even make a living selling strips to radio and television stations.
Laughter in Ancient Rome: Orators, Rigolettos, and Monkeys, by Mary Beard, translated by Wang Di, Xinmin Shu 丨 Guangxi Normal University Press, August 2020.
In Greece during the classical and Hellenistic eras, there were far fewer signs of such commodification. Of course, the language and literature of that time could make people laugh in a variety of ways; famous people from politicians to philosophers made many sharp and funny quotations; and jokes were highly anticipated on many occasions (the idea of a white-food person to have a full meal by making fun was not the first of the Romans). Not only that, but we may occasionally find signs that Greece at that time also had more general, unnamed jokes that would be reminiscent of "The Laughing Man"
In our opinion, the closest thing to it is Aristophanes' comedy Wasps. In the midst of the hustle and bustle at the end of the play, Philocleon, the elder, tries to calm the situation in a gentlemanly and sophisticated way, so he tells a "story of the Sibaris", but the result is not what he wants. The story goes like this: "There was a Sibaris man who fell from the carriage and his head fell so badly. Because in fact, his driving skills are not good. A friend of his stood by and said, 'No diamonds, no porcelain work.' ’”
The story of the Sibaris is an interesting branch of the ancient story of didactic wisdom about how stupid the inhabitants of the southern Italian city of Sibaris were—a city so famously rich that it caused itself a curse and was eventually destroyed in the late 6th century BC. Our knowledge of these stories derives primarily from quotations from Roman writers, and they are often classified as allegories—as Aristophanes did in the narrative that precedes the play ("Aesop's anecdote or the story of a Sibaris"). The nameless, stupid Sibaris in the story reminds us of the Abdella, Kumai, and Sidon people in Laughing Man.
Written in the fourth century, The Laughing Man is the world's earliest surviving collection of jokes.
In Classical and Hellenistic Greece, however, jokes were not treated as collectible commodities as they were in Rome or the Roman world. This distinction is clearly reflected in a story about Philip the Macedonian king in Ateneus's Treatise on the Philosopher's Swallow. Written in Greek and written at the turn of the 2nd and 3rd centuries, it is a multi-volume masterpiece that summarizes and selects information on various aspects of the literature and culture of the time, written by Artenaeus from the Roman province of Egypt. The book pretends to describe a dinner hosted by a wealthy benefactor in Rome, where many learned people talk and laugh. Their quotations and sharing their academic wisdom in small talk are breathtaking (though to be honest, sometimes lengthy and boring).
Jokes and jokes are also a major theme in Ateneus's book, and I have already mentioned some of the bizarre material he recorded, including the bizarre story of Parmenescus, who could not laugh. At this dinner there was a Roman named Ulpian who told the illuminating story of a king Philip buying jokes.
Urbianus said that in Athens in the 4th century BC, a group of witty people would meet in a temple outside the city. There were a total of sixty people in this group, so they were called the "Sixty Wise Men", and they had a unique talent (sophia) for amusement. When Philip heard of such a group of people, he gave them a large sum of money in exchange for their jokes (geloia), "and he gave them some silver so that these people could write down the jokes and give them to him." This story is often used to prove that jokes existed in Greece in the 4th century BC (as one critic wrote, this group of courtiers were "those who turned 'verbal kung fu' into paper jokes"). Maybe at first glance it does.
In the process of writing this chapter, I realized that the story and its implications were more likely to point in the opposite direction. Although Artenaeus gave only a brief overview of the story, he was followed by several more stories about the infamous dictatorships such as Demetrius Poliorcetes the Besiegers and Sulla who were eager to laugh. It is almost certain that in Athenian society at the time, the story of the "Sixty Wise Men" was not seen as a positive example of the enterprising spirit of literary collecting; rather, it was seen as a negative example, because the commodification in it was subversive and authoritarian: Philip was a monarch of wealth and power who mistakenly thought that he could buy the humor of the "Sixty Wise Men" in such a convenient, portable, paper form (we do not know whether they wrote jokes and gave them to Philip).
The Roman world was different. To put it more bluntly, the commodification of jokes (forming jokes that can be exchanged, passed on, collected, or bought and sold) is not here a manifestation of the dictator's subversive will; it is more like a cultural paradigm in Rome. And this is not just the amusing jokes of Grasimus and the other diners in Roman comedy, nor is it just the colloquialisms included in "The Laughing Man". The significant difference between Latin and Greek words leads us to the same conclusion. In Latin, the number of words that can be used to denote jokes is extremely abundant (even too numerous to be necessary); The Greek language, on the other hand, seems to have placed too much emphasis on the verb for laughter and the word associated with nouns, and its meanings of geloion and skōmma (perhaps chreia) have been overextended when used to express various types of jokes.
To conclude, on the basis of these obvious signs alone, that there is a stark and fixed difference between the "Greek" and "Roman" cultures of jokes would be an oversimplification of the problem. They do, however, show that jokes and jokes have different cultural coordinates, which are too irresponsible and imaginative if we turn a blind eye to them: among them, we should be particularly aware that in the Roman world, jokes were not just a form of interaction, but could themselves be used as a cultural object or as a commodity (or as a noun, not a verb).
Reluctant scholars may look at the issue in terms of different emphases, which can be compounded by patterns of evidence and their presence or absence. The most daring scholars tend to make more radical claims, arguing that what we now call "jokes" originated in Roman culture and seeing them as the most important legacy left by the Romans in Western history than the bridges and roads they built.
But whichever direction you choose, there is still a question that bewilders us: how exactly do you explain the special place of jokes in the Roman world? The question of how to write the history of laughter, including how it changes over time (and place).
To what extent is it reasonable to argue that jokes, as a commodity, are closely linked to the sharp trading relationship between the protectors and the protected, the rich and the poor in the Roman world? Is it in this context that jokes are defined as an exchangeable object (and also as a mode of literary interaction)? Ironically, we might also argue that it was also a sign of cultural commodification under roman rule. Whether elsewhere in the Mediterranean or in Rome itself. Anything in the Roman Empire was priced. The conquerors of the empire bought, copied, exchanged, classified and valued works of art. They did the same thing with funny, jokes and jokes. So it is no wonder that the "Philip King model" became an important part of the Roman "laughing science".
Good emperors and bad emperors
Roman despotism deeply influenced the culture of laughter and joke—a pattern that had emerged long before the first emperor, Augustus. Perhaps the murderous dictator Sulla is no longer the most famous, but before the 1680s, he briefly held power, and the city of Rome under his rule was bloody; but in classical times, like many Hellenistic tyrants and rulers, he was known for his fanatical love of laughter. Therefore, the relationship between him and some of the rigosters is no accident. In Cicero and Kun Ti liang's view, the witty style of these rigosters was something that orators avoided.
"He was particularly fond of the jokers and clowns, and was a very laughing man," wrote Nicolaus of Damascus, a historian of the late 1st century BC, "and even gave many public lands to those people." He himself wrote a lot of comedies in his native language (Latin), which made it clear how much he enjoyed them. Plutarch also recorded this statement, saying that the dictator "liked jokes" (philoskōmmōn) and that he was judged by serious images at dinners and other times. Even before his death (according to Plutarch's appalling story, his death was due to the festering body and the birth of worms), he was addicted to the performances of comedians, comedy actors, and imitators.
Some of the connections between dictators and laughter are conceivable. In Roman society, there was a basic law (from which the medieval tradition of "rex facetus" was passed down directly): the jokes made by the magnanimous rulers were also benevolent, they never humiliated others with laughter, and they were able to graciously accept the jokes that made fun of them; Bad rulers and dictators, on the other hand, violently suppress even jokes without the slightest malice, while using laughter and jokes as weapons against their enemies. Many anecdotes about court laughter prove this law. We don't know if these stories are true, and we can see that some of the jokes here that are said to have been told by this famous joker, but are said to have come from another person there, clearly suggesting that what we have learned is only cultural stereotypes, or stories that have been handed down, not facts. But they also point to a more important fact (both a political revelation and a myth): laughter can help us distinguish between good rulers and bad rulers.
Theo conveniently summed up one aspect of this point of view in his discussion of Vespasian: the emperor's demeanor (civilitas, in this case, the good qualities of seeing the people as compatriots rather than subjects) was reflected in "the fact that he joked like the common people (dēmotikōs), was able to accept the jokes about himself, and whenever someone anonymously posted a sign for the emperor to insult him, he would respond in the same way, and would not be annoyed by it."
Of course, grace has always been a kind of fiction (true equality between emperors and citizens is impossible, especially between emperors and commoners, and non-elite citizens like the latter often play an important role in these jokes). However, this was indeed a very important disguise in the complex struggle for imperial power, and the basic rules of these struggles were formed as early as the reign of Emperor Augustus. So, there are many anecdotes that revolve around Augustus, and these stories contain both tolerated jokes and jokes that people embrace.
Emperor Augustus, who founded the Roman Empire, had a great sense of humor.
Macrobius collected many witty and amusing stories about Augustus, from which it can be seen how the emperor joked with his men (for example, when someone hesitated to submit a complaint to him, repeated the gesture of reaching out and retracting it, he saw it and said, "Do you think you are going to hand the money to an elephant?"). In these stories, though, we see that he also tolerates the witty remarks that make fun of him. In Marc Robius's Book of Saturnalia, a character put it this way: "Speaking of Augustus, I am surprised by the jokes he tolerates more than the jokes he tells. ”
He then cites many examples, including a famous joke that we find to have an enduring charm, after all, it is discussed from Sigmund Freud to Iris Murdoch, and its origins date back to the Roman Republic. "An out-of-town satire (iocus asper) became widely known. It is said that there was a man in the city of Rome, who looked very much like Emperor Augustus, so he always attracted everyone's attention. Augustus then ordered the man to be brought before him. As soon as he saw the man, he asked him, 'Tell me, young man, has your mother ever been to Rome?'" Never been here. The man replied. But he was not willing to leave like this, so he continued: 'But my father often comes.' You know, the cornerstone of Roman patrilineal power was the identity of the father. In other words, Augustus could bear even jokes about the matter.
However, not all jokers have humble origins. Sometimes we find that the upper echelons of Roman society were so tolerant of the jokes they made. In a fascinating miracle in the early 2nd century AD, jokes became a tool in the Senate, used to satirize others in a measured way. This story comes from a letter from Pliny the Younger, which gives us a new understanding of the senate that has always been solemn. Although Pliny the Younger, who wrote the story, was not amused himself.
In that letter, Pliny the Younger discussed the obvious consequences of using secret ballots in senate elections, which he believed would be disastrous: "I told you," he wrote to his addressee, "that you should be concerned that secret ballots would lead to their abuse." Well, that's already happening. He explained that in the last election, someone scribbled a few jokes (iocularia) on ballot paper, and even foul language; One of them said the supporter's name, not the candidate's name. Conceivably, these actions were deliberate, just to vulgarly judge this meaningless process under dictatorship. The loyal senators angrily demanded that Emperor Trajan punish the perpetrators, but this man had always cleverly kept a low profile so that he was never discovered. Judging from the contents of Pliny the Younger's letter, Trajan turned a blind eye to this phenomenon and did not take action. Pliny the Younger also mentioned that while some of the more stodgy bystanders were disappointed, others would congratulate the emperor on his excellent demeanor.
Through their style of laughter and jokes, the "bad" emperor was equally exposed. From Caligula to Domitian to Elagabalus, ancient people spoke of these "demons" who held the throne, always defining and measuring different forms of cruelty and atrocities through laughter and transgression of their rules and traditions. This is the opposite of demeanor. In some stories, the emperors couldn't stand the jokes they made fun of themselves. For example, there was a group of sailors in the Roman hippodrome, and their job was to watch over the giant awnings used to shade the arena. It is said that if Commodus felt that anyone in the audience was laughing at him, he would order the sailors to take the man's life (no wonder Theo was so worried that he would laugh). Other stories tell that emperors would laugh at something inappropriate in the wrong way, on the wrong occasion, or they would tell cruel (or simply terrible) jokes for their own amusement.
Speaking of Claudius, none of his witty remarks are funny, or a bit frigidus: he once made a pun on the name of a gladiator named Palumbus, because the name literally means "Spotted Forest Pigeon" (claudius promised to "let him play if he gets caught" when people shouted for Parumbus to play), and Suvitonius was not interested in the joke. Caligula's joke is not cold, but full of aggressive threats. "At one of his most extravagant banquets," Suetonius wrote, "he burst into laughter (in cachinnos). The archons on either side of him politely asked him what he was laughing at. It's nothing, just the thought that with a nod of my head, you two will immediately land on the ground." In the Biography of the Roman King, Commodus's biographer clearly writes that "his jokes are also fatal" (in iocis quoque perniciosus), and then tells a terrible story: there was a man with a little white hair mixed in his black hair, and the emperor put a starling on his head; the bird began to peck at the white hair, thinking that the hair was a bug, which made the man's scalp begin to fester, presumably ending up with his life.
Biography of a Roman King, by [Ancient Rome] Elius Spartiyanus, translated by Xie Pinwei, Qizhenguan 丨Zhejiang University Press, December 2017.
The story echoes a very important theme in the biography of Elagabalus: dictators' jokes are indeed fatal. That's not all, though. In this half-truth, half-false biography, Commodore's pranks also follow a whole imperial tradition of playing with white-haired or bald-headed people. One of the most common themes of emperors fooling others was the state of the man's head: Julius Caesar, who had been ridiculed many times for his baldness, was said to have combed the rest of his hair forward to cover the bald area (a practice that had long been known and had long been the subject of further ridicule); And Domitian (i.e., "Nero the Bald") also regarded the practice of others teasing him about his baldness as an insult.
But we've talked about Commodore earlier, and his approach apparently borrows from Mark Robius's record of Augustus's jokes about his daughter Julia. Legend has it that Julia was worried about the white hair on her head, so she asked the maid to pull it out. One day, Augustus came to see her, and before that she had asked the servants to pull out all their white hair. Augustus pretended not to see the white hair that fell from Julia's clothes... Ask her if she'd rather be bald or have gray hair after a few years. Julia replied, 'Father, personally, I prefer to have white hair. He then accused his daughter of lying: 'So why let these women turn you bald so quickly?'"
There's a stark contrast here. Augustus used a joking tone to count why his daughter had pulled out her white hair. The tyrant Commodus, on the other hand, placed a bird on the head of an innocent man and made it peck at the man's hair—and even killed the man.
The historical significance of these exaggerated legends recorded in the Biography of a Roman King is often greater than it seems. For it is not only made up out of thin air, but also an absurd exaggeration of some of the traditional problems in Roman society. I think that dictatorship in Roman society had a frightening consequence, and that was that the autocratic monarch was able to make his jokes (terrible and unexpected) come true.
However, when it comes to the laughter of the emperors, their most distinctive advantage is not in their ability to control their own laughter or jokes, but in their attempts to control other people to laugh or joke. There is a classic example: After the death of his sister Drusilla, Caligula issued an arbitrary ban that prevented everyone from laughing. According to Suetonius, Caligula ordered that during the mourning of Drusilla, no one should laugh, bathe, or eat with their family (these are three important "regular" social activities, and Suetonius puts "laughter" first) or he will be punished with death. Although this rule cannot be said to have been enforced, it is obviously inconclusive, and (whatever the facts) is why it is included in the biography. But there are other similar or successful or unsuccessful, real or imaginary tyranny, all of which are aimed at the forces of nature: just as Xerxes ordered bridges to be built across the Strait of Helles, Caligula wanted to conquer the natural force of laughter of his subjects (albeit within his country).
If laughter is the most uncontrollable physical response, it is precisely (or so) what the emperors want to control, but some emperors are slightly gentler and more restrained than others. In other words, in the literary system of imperial rule, the emperor's control of laughter may be a clear political symbol, symbolizing the "unnaturalness" of the authoritarian system, even if in its mild form.
(This article is excerpted from The Laughter of Ancient Rome: Orators, Rigoletists, and Monkeys, reprinted with permission from the publisher.) ）
Original author 丨 (English) Mary Beard Translator 丨 Wang Di
Excerpt and editor 丨Dong Muzi
Source: Beijing News