Women in Comedy and Comedic Literature
By Jennifer Inglis
Author of “Girls Who Wear Glasses”
Women have had a rough road in comedy. Even now it’s still very much a “boys club,” as just about any female comic will attest. But it is, and always has been, critical to establish a woman’s voice in that arena. And why not? We have a lot to say. Humor, at its essence, is a way of coping with the world.
Comedy gives us license to question, to push boundaries, to reinvent, something we’ve had to do since the beginning of time. But as women, we often find ourselves as the peacemakers, the Keepers of Normalcy, the Enforcers of Schedules.
Doesn’t always lend itself to a laugh.
But it should. Women have created a special place inside that theater of the absurd, a unique kind of weird that we often keep to ourselves, but one that we bring out from time to time to stay sane.
And when we do, stand back.
Writing comedy as a woman can be a challenge. A few years ago, the late writer Christopher Hitchens wrote an article explaining why, in exacting detail, women just weren’t funny.
He caught a bit of backlash, as one could imagine, with the female comedy world rearing up and roaring a definite “NO.” But there were many – mostly men – who agreed with Hitchens. Women don’t need to be funny, they argued. That’s the kingdom of men, they said. Men need it to attract a mate. Women who are funny are just trying too hard. Men just don’t find women funny, no matter how many times we waved a banner with Carol Burnett’s picture on it.
They couldn’t be more wrong. Funny women hold power. They speak the truth, speak their truth, and you can come along for the ride or stay in the garage. I think we’re seeing the tide turn in “women’s fiction” as well, which historically has meant romance novels or sweeping family sagas. And while these are great, I think that we, as readers and writers, appreciate the appeal of a book that is relatable and well-written, but bloom with joy when we find out it’s also funny.
When I wrote my first novel, “Girls Who Wear Glasses,” I knew it needed to be funny despite being about a woman struggling with her self-esteem and her value as a person. Because that’s where the humor is – in the struggle, in the angst. Women instinctively know this. And as a Jewish woman, I feel it on a particularly personal level. Jewish humor is angsty, self-deprecating, sometimes aggressive.
We’ve had to survive a lot. Jewish humor walks the line between the absurd and the tragic, the sacred and the profane. It’s about being as tall as your grandmother by age seven. It’s about getting excited about Christmas, not because of the presents, but because it means Chinese food for dinner. It’s about family, love, and survival. And I embrace it wholeheartedly. It’s a vital ingredient in my writing, and one that I think most people can relate to, no matter their culture.
Everyone has their “thing,” that element that makes them connect to someone’s point of view, someone else’s story. And we all have one – even though we sometimes have to work harder to be heard. But when we are, we’re golden. Humor crosses borders, boundaries and time. Lucille Ball is still funny half a century later. Eddie Izzard (who uses the pronouns she/her) is funny in multiple countries and languages. Amy Poehler and Tina Fey are modern sitcom royalty. More and more women are taking control of writing in Hollywood, helming sitcoms and movie comedies.
We’re here. Listen up.
Women need to be equal partners in the world of comedy as well as comic literature. It’s said that men and women find different things funny, with men being more aggressive, more showy, but most women want to take a different tack. There’s an undercurrent of anger for many women, subtler than men’s anger, and when we write comedy we have no interest that tired trope of the easily-impressed, wide-eyed female.
Forget that. We’re smart, we’re slightly pissed, and we are indeed capable of talking about more than our last glass of chardonnay and our yoga pants (not that I am inherently against either of those things, either separately or together). Comedy gives us license to question, to push boundaries, to reinvent.
Will men find it funny? Maybe, but who cares, really? Nine times out of ten, after I’ve written a joke on social media, there will be at least one man who feels the need to either explain my joke back to me, or try to top it. And while one must resist the urge to snap back with, “Hey, jerk, Jon Stewart wouldn’t pull this crap!” we can still nod along with the knowledge that we hit a nerve somewhere. We were heard.
And that’s what we want, isn’t it? A voice? Even if we feel like we’re shouting into the void, we want to arm ourselves with whatever weapons we have. Read. Listen. Seek out the funny women. They’re out there. Elevate them.
As for me, I’ll keep writing funny books and fighting the good fight. I’m just in it for the jokes.
Category: Contemporary Women Writers
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