Writing Comedy for Children
The secret to what makes something funny is a tricky one and, in the spirit of Mooge, I will make mention of an era before humour. That must have been a funny time! No one knows when humans developed a sense of humour or precisely why. It wasn’t top of the Sumerian’s to-do-list to write a joke when they invented writing. However, there are theories as to why we developed it. The one that resonates most with me is humans somehow developed the ability to contradict and challenge our assumptions: quite a useful survival trait (just because it looks safe doesn't mean it is). And in essence, that is what we are doing when we make a joke: playing around with what should be and warping it to an abstract. Someone’s misfortune also fits this template (by jumping over a stream we assume the intent is to reach the other side dry and continue on their way, but by falling in and getting drenched it runs contrary to everything attempted) and I imagine the first ancient human to laugh, witnessed such a moment (perhaps a cousin crashing into a prickly cactus), just lacking a camera and social media to record and post it. The fact ‘fails’, as social media now terms laughable misfortune, still make us laugh does hint at a primordial origin. Of course, there is also the chicken and egg conundrum of whether we learned to joke or laugh first (or ask why the chicken crossed the road). It would be a pity if the first ever joke was met by tumbleweed, but quite funny at the same time! But I digress…
Children will laugh at most things but a lot of the time it is because their peers or elders are laughing. The desire to fit in and be part of the tribe is another instinctive facet. However, writing comedy for youngsters does not afford such leeway. Understanding the nuances of the written language is a skill unto itself. Even us adults can struggle - that’s why emojis are necessary when we write pithy texts. As the developing mind absorbs new vocabulary and grammatical rules, it may miss the more complex word-play or ironic scenario a comic uses in their prose. But, in the same way nearly all young children like big, shiny machines and vehicles, there are certain strands of humour that most children respond to.
Even in writing, the visual still plays an important part and that is why illustrations are so important, providing the facial expressions and the context for young minds. They will laugh if they see an adult sucking their thumb while scared but may focus on the fear if not reassured by the picture that says ‘everything will be okay’. It is also possible to utilise the limits of the young’s knowledge, using rhyme to surprise them with words in a unfamiliar situation, teaching them to challenge linguistic assumptions from all they have learnt to date. However, perhaps the biggest pool of humour for children is misfortune, misadventure and rule breaking.
Having uttered such a thing, I feel I must now qualify. A children’s writer has a responsibility to convey appropriate ethics and morals to their readers. You cannot tap into someone’s misfortune without a positive resolution or underlying lesson; you cannot encourage bad behaviour to win a reader’s approval. However, a custard pie in the face will make a child laugh because the thrower was not meant to do it and the recipient was not expecting it. If the thrower only ever threw and recipient only ever received, then this would not be appropriate for children: you have a bully and victim. What needs to happen is the instigator gets their comeuppance with a custard pie in their face from the original recipient, and then it should descend into a chaotic mess of everyone in the room throwing custard pies. Why is this acceptable when everyone is misbehaving and making a terrible mess? I think the answer is that behavioural boundaries have already been established for the children. They recognise it is wrong but at the same time understand no one is suffering. If they had permission they would wish to have a custard pie fight but without permission would not dare have one. So, a writer has to understand where those boundaries are firm and provide a peek over but not an invitation to cross. That hopefully means that the older a child, the firmer and clearer the boundaries, while books for younger children should not stray into such realms.
In Mooge, aimed at 7-11 year olds, there is some nudity (it is the time before clothes were invented, so unavoidable, though all very discreet and tastefully done). I expect children will laugh at some scenes, not because a naked body is inherently funny, but because they know society says you aren’t supposed to be naked in public. They will laugh when Mooge falls in the bog, not because they want him to drown, but because they know he won’t and they have no desire to copy him. You have to credit children with the ability to interpret and understand why something is funny because they know their wrongs and rights. If they don’t and laugh for the wrong reasons, then they may have deeper behavioural issues. That is true for adults too.
Humour is an important part of character building for children, intertwined with behavioural development. A little self-deprecation is a vital ingredient for forming a humble and modest person and nothing helps more than being able to laugh at yourself. The ability to spot the absurd and dismiss it with ridicule and satire, while balancing the search for truth with a serious state of mind, is, oh, so essential in our modern world. And recognising and challenging assumptions is the only way we can grow as an individual and society. So, make sure our children are laughing and have the skills and behavioural boundaries to understand why it is funny.
Nate Wrey
Postscript: An interesting piece of University of Oxford research published in the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society journal suggests laughter was essential in early tribal groups being able to live together, creating the endorphin rush to bind communities. https://royalsocietypublishing.org/doi/10.1098/rstb.2021.0179