German Joys

Teach me to Laugh, Herr Boyes

Roger Boyes is an Englishman and Berlin correspondent for the London Times. He can often be seen on German talk shows commenting on international affairs (in perfect German). Now he's written a book, "My dear Krauts," which is designed to help Germans learn to laugh. First, I'll give you the gist of Boyes, then I'll add my take:

Germany is in urgent need of "humor development aid," Roger Boyes, the London Times correspondent in Berlin.

The Germans are a nation of paranoid schizophrenics who can't decide whether to love or loathe themselves, says Roger Boyes, the Berlin correspondent for the London Times, whose new book "My dear Krauts" marks the start of a one-man mission to help the country lighten up.

"It's not that they can't be funny. In fact they like a good laugh. It's just that they're a bit slower on the uptake than the rest of the world. And they don't understand irony."...

German Joys Review: Forklift Driver Klaus

It's time for a subject that doesn't get enough attention on German Joys: industrial safety.

Yesterday I watched Staplerfahrer Klaus: Der Erste Arbeitstag ('Forklift Driver Klaus - The First Day on the Job'), a 10-minute long industrial-safety film directed by Jörg Wagner and Stefan Prehn. Forklift Driver Klaus opens in an office of a warehouse complex in some industrial suburb of a German city. All the forklift driver trainees are assembled; they've all passed their test, and all receive a badge signifying that yes, they too may join "the 37,000 specially-trained people in Germany who can rightly call themselves forklift drivers."

The camera focusses on Klaus, a cheerful, innocent-looking blond-haired young man, beaming with pride as the firm's president pins his forklift-driver badge onto the lapel of his blue work overalls. Accompanied by peppy, burbling industrial-training-film music, Klaus walks confidently to his designated forklift and puts it through an initial safety inspection. Everything works. Klaus is about to start his new career as a forklift driver!

A near-accident at the warehouse entrance isn't Klaus' fault, it's the fault of the foolish pedestrian who ignored the sign clearly marking separate paths for motorized and pedestrian traffic. Unfortunately, Klaus cannot so easily be absolved of blame for the series of "cruel but informative accidents" (to quote the film's English-language website) that happen next.

Adolf and the Leasing Contract

Something for the German-understanders out there.

Some lovable misfits took an audiotape of a comedian's routine (don't know which comedian) about an utterly banal legal dispute with a car dealership relating to a "Leasing-Vertrag" (leasing contract). They then synchronized it seamlessly to a videotape of a speech being given by a controversial German Austrian statesman in a large assembly hall filled with torches and flags.

I laughed until I cried, and then was filled with shame. Then I forgave myself, and watched the video again. (Hat-tip Ed P.)

Clever Marketing

The ad is for a funeral-services company. The slogan: "Just come closer." (Hat-tip P.H. & Ed P.)

 

England. Germany. Humo[u]r.

Hat-tip to Jo for pointing me to an article in the Guardian by English comedian Stewart Lee. Lee went to Germany to stage a play set in an English stand-up comedy club, and reflects, interestingly, on the differences between the German and the English sense of humor. The article's accompanied by a picture of Harald Schmidt, Germany's answer to David Letterman, dressed as a bobsled. (!)

Lee's conclusion: "[B]e assured, the German sense of humour not only exists, it actually flourishes, albeit in a form we are ill-equipped to recognise." According to Lee, English humor is based on building up intentional confusions of meaning that are resolved, with a funny paradox, at the end of the sentence. This sort of humor doesn't work in Germany, because "[t]he German language provides fully functional clarity. English humour thrives on confusion."  Furthermore, English humor about bodily functions doesn't translate well: "A German theatre director explained that this was because the Germans did not find the human body smutty or funny, due to all attending mixed saunas from an early age." (!!)

Therefore, Germans don't really warm to English stand-up humor:

[T]he idea of stand-up is somewhat alien to the Germans. They have a cabaret tradition of sophisticated satire, cross-dressing and mildly amusing songs, and there are also recognisable mainstream, low-brow comedy tropes in the form of vulgar popular entertainers. But the idea of the conversational, casual, middle-ground of English speaking stand-up comedy is unknown to the Germans.

To Lee it "seemed to me that their sense of humour was built on blunt, seemingly serious statements, which became funny simply because of their context."

All well and good, I'd say, from an outsider's perspective. Here are some other sorts of German humor that appear in "forms we are ill-equipped to recognize":

Worse and Better Ways to Die

I don't want to interrupt the philological discussion going on about the last post, but I came across a few nice specimens of German humor I thought I'd share.  The first comes from the April 2006 Titanic, p. 39, submitted by Tibor Rácskai:

Suggestion for Improvement

In the subway station: ultra-modern screen displays keep us in the loop: "200 Dead in Beluchistan, the new Brigitte is in newsstands now, Careful! Train arriving!"  For the last few days, one of these devices has been stoically delivering an additional piece of news: "The end of the lamp's life-expectancy has been reached."  I'd like to have something similar, when it's come that far; let's say, three days before.  Then there'd be enough time to clean up a bit, bring the old bottles in for recycling -- simply to check out properly.

And now Greser und Lenz (G) the comic team specializing in mordant satirical cartoons.  The FAZ newspaper is hosting a collection of Greser and Lenz drawings, and interviewed the two in their favorite bar, the "Schlappeseppel" in Aschaffenburg.  They liked it so much they drew the bar owner a little cartoon for his beer coasters:

It shows two drunks dressed in angel's robes, sitting on a cloud.  "Cirrhosis of the liver! And you?" asks one, with a grimace.  The other's hand and feet are bandaged.  In his left hand he still holds a fragment of the broken steering wheel, with the beer bottle in his right hand he merrily salutes his colleague: "Thank God I didn't have to go through that!"

P.S. This one shows Condi Rice behind a podium, announcing: "As a transatlantic goodwill gesture, the CIA has ordered 150 Airbus planes for secret prisoner transports."  The caption: "Everything OK again now?"