I meant to post this somewhere I could find it again - irony
From Dave Eggers's A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius
Irony and its malcontents
This section should be skipped by most, for it is annoying and pedantic, and directed to a very few. They know who they are. Here we go: You can't know how much it pains me to even have that word, the one beginning with i and ending in y, in this book. It is not a word I like to see, anywhere, much less type on to my own pages. It is beyond a doubt the most overused and under-understood word we currently have. I have that i-word here only to make clear what was clear to, by my estimations, about 99.9% of original hardcover readers of this book: that there is almost no irony, whatsoever, within its covers.
But to hear a few people tell it, this entire book, or most of it, was/is ironic. Well. Well. Ahem. Well. Let's define irony as the dictionary does: the use of words to express something different from and often opposite to their literal meaning. Now, where, keeping that definition in mind, do we find that herein? We do find some things that might have confused the reader prone to presuming this irony, so let's address them one at a time:
1. When someone kids around, it does not necessarily mean he or she is being ironic. That is, when one tells a joke, in any context, it can mean, simply, that a joke is being told. Further, satire is not inherently ironic. Nor is parody. Or any kind of comedy. Irony is a very specific and not all that interesting thing, and to use the word/concept to blanket half of all contemporary cultural production - which some aged arbiters seem to be doing (particularly with regard to work made by those under a certain age) - is akin to the too-common citing of "the Midwest" as the regional impediment to all national social progress (when we all know the "Midwest" is 10 miles outside of any city). In other words, to refer to everything odd, coincidental, eerie, absurd or strangely funny as ironic is, frankly, an abomination upon the Lord. (Re that last clause: not irony, but a simple, wholesome, American-born exaggeration.)
To illustrate the many more things that are not ironic but are often referred to as such, let's look at some sample sentences, starring a wee wayward pup known as Benji, and see if we can illuminate some distinctions.
Sample: Benji was run over by a bus. Isn't that ironic?
No: That is not ironic. That is unfortunate, but it is not ironic.
Sample: It was a bright and sunny day when Benji was run over by a bus. Ironic, no?
Again, no: That is not irony. It is an instance of dissonance between weather and tragedy.
Sample: It is ironic that Benji was on his way to the vet when he was run over by a bus.
Still: That is not irony. That is a coincidence that might be called eerie.
Sample: It is ironic that Benji was run over on the same day he misused the word ironic.
But see: This is, again, a coincidence. It is wonderfully appropriate that he was run over on this day, deserving as he was of punishment, but it is not ironic.
2. Now, on a related subject: simply because humour is found in a context of pain, does not make that humour ironic. I have heard people claim that there is irony in the first chapter of this book, a chapter that is excruciatingly serious and straightforward. Are there even a few funny moments in this section? Absolutely not. But what confuses some people is the use of a device here or there, a formal trick or innovation that this sort of reader finds bothersome in the same way that a certain king of lore is said to have told a certain court composer that his music had too many notes.
3. If we dismiss the idea that all formal fun - and we must be allowed it - constitutes irony, then we must agree that:
5. Prefaces are not ironic.
6. Notations are not ironic.
7. Diagrams are not ironic.
8. Funny titles are not ironic.
9. Numbered points are not ironic.
10. Footnotes are not ironic*.
11. Small type is not ironic.
11a. Appendices are not ironic.
12. Having characters break out of character is not ironic.
Wait, back to humour for a second: Generally, if a joke is told, or a humorous anecdote relayed, and by chance you do not understand that joke or humorous anecdote, it does not mean it is ironic. Or "neo-ironic". It simply means that you do not understand that joke. And that is okay. There have been a few readers who have taken the long, messy run-on of the book's end, even that passage, as ironic. Which is so disturbing. A parody of Ulysses? What is wrong with you people?
But such interpretations, in the end, aren't really my problem. When I was done, I was ashamed, because I had written what I saw as a much too revealing and maudlin thing, overflowing with blood and sentiment and a simple bare longing for people who are gone. The book was seen by its author as a stupid risk, and an ugly thing, and a betrayal, and overall, as a mistake he would regret for the rest of his life but a mistake which nevertheless he could not refrain from making and, worse, as a mistake he would encourage everyone to make, because everyone should make big, huge mistakes, because
a) They don't want you to;
b) Because they haven't the balls themselves and your doing it reminds them of their status as havers-of-no-balls;
c) Because your life is worth documenting;
d) Because if you do not believe your life is worth documenting then why are you wasting your time/our time? Our air?
e) Because if you do it right and go straight toward them, you, like me, will write to them and will look straight into their eyes when writing, will look straight into their fucking eyes, like a person sometimes can do with another person, and tell them something, even though you might not know them well, or at all, and even if you wrote in their books or hugged them or put your hand on their arm, you still would scarcely know them, but even so wrote a book that was really a letter to them, a messy fucking letter that you could barely keep a grip on, but a letter you meant, and a letter you sometimes wish you had not mailed, but a letter you are happy that made it from you to them.
* What the fuck is ironic about this?
Irony and its malcontents
This section should be skipped by most, for it is annoying and pedantic, and directed to a very few. They know who they are. Here we go: You can't know how much it pains me to even have that word, the one beginning with i and ending in y, in this book. It is not a word I like to see, anywhere, much less type on to my own pages. It is beyond a doubt the most overused and under-understood word we currently have. I have that i-word here only to make clear what was clear to, by my estimations, about 99.9% of original hardcover readers of this book: that there is almost no irony, whatsoever, within its covers.
But to hear a few people tell it, this entire book, or most of it, was/is ironic. Well. Well. Ahem. Well. Let's define irony as the dictionary does: the use of words to express something different from and often opposite to their literal meaning. Now, where, keeping that definition in mind, do we find that herein? We do find some things that might have confused the reader prone to presuming this irony, so let's address them one at a time:
1. When someone kids around, it does not necessarily mean he or she is being ironic. That is, when one tells a joke, in any context, it can mean, simply, that a joke is being told. Further, satire is not inherently ironic. Nor is parody. Or any kind of comedy. Irony is a very specific and not all that interesting thing, and to use the word/concept to blanket half of all contemporary cultural production - which some aged arbiters seem to be doing (particularly with regard to work made by those under a certain age) - is akin to the too-common citing of "the Midwest" as the regional impediment to all national social progress (when we all know the "Midwest" is 10 miles outside of any city). In other words, to refer to everything odd, coincidental, eerie, absurd or strangely funny as ironic is, frankly, an abomination upon the Lord. (Re that last clause: not irony, but a simple, wholesome, American-born exaggeration.)
To illustrate the many more things that are not ironic but are often referred to as such, let's look at some sample sentences, starring a wee wayward pup known as Benji, and see if we can illuminate some distinctions.
Sample: Benji was run over by a bus. Isn't that ironic?
No: That is not ironic. That is unfortunate, but it is not ironic.
Sample: It was a bright and sunny day when Benji was run over by a bus. Ironic, no?
Again, no: That is not irony. It is an instance of dissonance between weather and tragedy.
Sample: It is ironic that Benji was on his way to the vet when he was run over by a bus.
Still: That is not irony. That is a coincidence that might be called eerie.
Sample: It is ironic that Benji was run over on the same day he misused the word ironic.
But see: This is, again, a coincidence. It is wonderfully appropriate that he was run over on this day, deserving as he was of punishment, but it is not ironic.
2. Now, on a related subject: simply because humour is found in a context of pain, does not make that humour ironic. I have heard people claim that there is irony in the first chapter of this book, a chapter that is excruciatingly serious and straightforward. Are there even a few funny moments in this section? Absolutely not. But what confuses some people is the use of a device here or there, a formal trick or innovation that this sort of reader finds bothersome in the same way that a certain king of lore is said to have told a certain court composer that his music had too many notes.
3. If we dismiss the idea that all formal fun - and we must be allowed it - constitutes irony, then we must agree that:
5. Prefaces are not ironic.
6. Notations are not ironic.
7. Diagrams are not ironic.
8. Funny titles are not ironic.
9. Numbered points are not ironic.
10. Footnotes are not ironic*.
11. Small type is not ironic.
11a. Appendices are not ironic.
12. Having characters break out of character is not ironic.
Wait, back to humour for a second: Generally, if a joke is told, or a humorous anecdote relayed, and by chance you do not understand that joke or humorous anecdote, it does not mean it is ironic. Or "neo-ironic". It simply means that you do not understand that joke. And that is okay. There have been a few readers who have taken the long, messy run-on of the book's end, even that passage, as ironic. Which is so disturbing. A parody of Ulysses? What is wrong with you people?
But such interpretations, in the end, aren't really my problem. When I was done, I was ashamed, because I had written what I saw as a much too revealing and maudlin thing, overflowing with blood and sentiment and a simple bare longing for people who are gone. The book was seen by its author as a stupid risk, and an ugly thing, and a betrayal, and overall, as a mistake he would regret for the rest of his life but a mistake which nevertheless he could not refrain from making and, worse, as a mistake he would encourage everyone to make, because everyone should make big, huge mistakes, because
a) They don't want you to;
b) Because they haven't the balls themselves and your doing it reminds them of their status as havers-of-no-balls;
c) Because your life is worth documenting;
d) Because if you do not believe your life is worth documenting then why are you wasting your time/our time? Our air?
e) Because if you do it right and go straight toward them, you, like me, will write to them and will look straight into their eyes when writing, will look straight into their fucking eyes, like a person sometimes can do with another person, and tell them something, even though you might not know them well, or at all, and even if you wrote in their books or hugged them or put your hand on their arm, you still would scarcely know them, but even so wrote a book that was really a letter to them, a messy fucking letter that you could barely keep a grip on, but a letter you meant, and a letter you sometimes wish you had not mailed, but a letter you are happy that made it from you to them.
* What the fuck is ironic about this?