At my father’s funeral, four years ago, my cousin turned to my mother, now a widow who had lost her husband of sixty-odd years, and said, “don’t worry, auntie, there are plenty more fish in the sea.” Now for some, this might have seemed like a crass, insensitive attempt at humour, but for me, it was far from that. What my cousin did was to brilliantly encapsulate a raft of complex emotions and indescribable feelings in a simple, silly statement that made us all laugh. The best thing about it is that Dad would have been the first one in stitches.
Why am I bringing this up? Well, this week, I was reflecting on the journey taken by my debut book since its inception two years ago. During its early stages, I had it professionally assessed, meaning a book industry professional reviewed it and provided feedback. In the report, one of the comments the reviewer made was about a line in the book that made them laugh. They suggested the line should be changed as it was out of whack and did not fully reflect the mood and tone of the story.
For context, I need to explain that throughout the review and approval process, I accommodated the majority of the feedback I received along the way. And this one, I really had to think about. Did it jar with the rest of the content? After deliberating, I came to the conclusion that I wholeheartedly disagreed with the reviewer’s perspective. In fact, I realized that making the reviewer laugh, was a pretty good thing. The sentence was deliberate, and the contrasting style was meant to be that way. Tears and laughter often sit side by side in real life and, despite being polar opposites, they often make for very complementary neighbours.
Gallows humour – to me at least – is a peculiar but wonderful aspect of life. The ability of people to crack a joke and break out a smile in the most seemingly hopeless of situations is brilliantly human. To do it properly and do to do it well, one must recognize and connect with a fundamental truth of the situation on a deep level. One must clearly see the elephant in the room and accurately reflect on what it means to those around so that it resonates with the sentiment at that exact moment.
This juxtaposition of light and dark can be refreshing and powerful, and make for great art. Many of my favourite television shows, films, books, and plays are all examples of art that have the propensity to leave you either giddy from laughter or soaked in tears (consider Fleabag, BoJack Horseman, Royal Tenenbaums, Dr Strangelove, Catch-22, Waiting for Godot). That is entertainment at its most impactful, powerful, and reflective of life.
What happened to the line that made the reviewer laugh? It’s still in there, and you can judge for yourself whether it works or not when the book (The Madness of the Faithful) is released on July 28th.
