This material was published in a special tab in issue 17 “Novaya Gazeta. Magazine"
Is it normal to laugh when something terrible is happening nearby? Literally over this most terrible thing, over what turns into real human suffering.
The Russian-language Internet mainly gives two types of answers: the division clearly goes along the lines of the platforms used. “Russia of the Post” (banned Facebook), prone to reflection, votes rather for the answer “no”; in humor it sees cynicism and escapism. But “Russia Reels” (banned Instagram and TikTok) itself does not particularly reason - it answers actively.
What's on the agenda - a new war in the Middle East? Please, I’ll illustrate the feed of the last few days: “Iran responded to Israel on the same day, and you still think that he doesn’t answer you because he’s busy?”, a cut with Trump wishing for “world peace” for the New Year, songs with the text “oh-oh-oh I’m launching my atomic weapons into the sky” ( if anyone doesn’t know, it’s in the text. - K.F. ).
Algorithms pick up the demand for such content, and preferably based on recent events: the first days after February 24, the feeds also contrasted with heartbreaking photos and videos - and videos, and memes with sarcastic assessments (although there is always a place for old episodes, like September 11). And this is not a Russian specificity: black humor instantly takes off both in the English-language and in other segments as soon as relevant political or social trash begins to happen in front of the audience.
From the point of view of debates about morality, the arguments of "Russia of the Post" may be interesting. But everyday life refutes them:
sympathy and empathy do not have to be accompanied by sobs and daily visits to a therapist.
People of all countries and all continents, speaking all languages, of all different religions and political views - due to certain internal structures of human nature - really need to laugh and (self-)ironize at the most monstrous of catastrophes. To take a proud pose here and say that this is a mechanism of psychological defense, infantilism, unwillingness to “comprehend” and “take responsibility”, and so on and so forth - looks like the simplest and at the same time very erroneous answer (in a nice way, this position mirrors the “patriotic” manuals about “hard times when you need to be with your country, and not have fun”).
Psychologists say that humor helps to survive stress, acts as a therapeutic aid, and finally, making fun of fear means, if you don’t overcome it, then at least accept it, and rise somewhat, like “this too will pass.” A good illustration is the history of the ban on the film “The Death of Stalin” by Armando Iannucci (it was a long time ago, 2018!): its parodic tone outraged both sides, and the argument sounded reasonable that it is laughter - that is, distancing - that makes it possible to really overcome the bony grip of the sad past.
Perhaps this is true, and perhaps laughter in difficult times does have such a pragmatic purpose. Perhaps self-irony is just a necessary tool of self-reflection, which, according to some, our leaders lack, and if they could laugh at themselves, maybe we wouldn’t have to laugh through our tears (although President Trump personally strikes me as a completely ironic person, even too much so).
With all this, tragic humor has one more important feature: it does not just react, it gives energy and - I would even say - a bright style for moving forward. Such laughter itself becomes an action: it eases the attitude and frees one from difficult dilemmas, forcing one to look at the situation - at the abyss mentioned in the title - with different eyes, to imagine one’s life in a slightly different genre.
Although life is not a chivalric romance (alas?), sometimes it is very useful to imagine yourself as a character in an exciting book. This is especially useful in the chaotic and insane present, written in postmodernity and digital bloody intertext, a stream of clouded consciousness.
This is the “new Middle Ages,” as smart people say, so we can remember - who is best able to survive in such medieval circumstances? Not just jesters and not just rogues, but specialists in irony - tricksters.
Instead of moaning, they laugh at others and at themselves and act - endlessly alternating sudden successes with stunning failures, but laugh again, and change, and run forward while others cannot even understand what is happening. This behavior is relevant to our history: it is no coincidence that Mark Lipovetsky calls the trickster “the main hero of Soviet culture” (Ostap Bender, Vasily Terkin, even Stirlitz from jokes!).
The title of this column was suggested to me: but what image would more accurately describe the behavior of a trickster than ridiculing the abyss at the very moment when he was already hovering over it? So there is no need to be ashamed of your Reels feed, it is our collective, universal reason for pride.
This material was published in the seventeenth issue of Novaya Gazeta. Magazine". You can buy it in the online store of our partners.