has many meanings - one of them related to a dramatic device. Its not the one suited to what I am going to talk about. I wished it were. Perhaps one of you might be able to tell me what dramatic device my story could come under. Its in the next post.
First I want to say that my humour (or attempts at it) are sometimes misunderstood here. Often my posts are misunderstood because they are doing several things at once - like self depracting humour, skiting, useful information, subtle incluing for the topic, blatant info dumping, maudlin sentiment all in one (well, more than one of those rolled in one). This is not unusual - you all do this. However it seems to me that I have been copping a greater share of comments from people who think I didn’t get it when, in fact, what I am doing is escalating the talk to a new level of seriousness or humour as a trigger for a fresh level of interaction. Its like a serious/joking spirallic progression I am attempting.
I was thinking that it may be a North American thing (given that predominance here) but the true story that follows reveals otherwise.
Wren and I were shopping in the main rural town near where we live. We saw an Austin which I think was one of these.
Delectable piece of work isn’t it? Like baclawi among desserts, barfi among muffins.
This one was painted cream. Incidentally it was in a no parking zone.
There was a group of townsfolk around the car staring at it. It made my morning.
As I walked passed them I said, “Yes, its shocking that people park like that isn’t it? No respect for the law.”
They all, without exception, looked at me like I was missing something …
No, no…I don’t think it’s a N. American thing. You’re just a special flavor of humor that not all palates have cultivated.
Meanwhile, if I may assist any who may be struggling, like me…
Barfi is a sweet, of fudge like consistency usually made of khoya (thickened/condensed milk) with other fruits or nut added to it.
…and from a randomly googled recipe blog:
Here in Lawrence, MA we have many Greek and Lebanese folk, and many an opportunity to try Baklava (Greek), Paklava (Turk, Armenian), > and Baklawi > (Lebanese, Syrian)
Hmmm, Talasiga, let me assume you seriously want to explain what kind of humour gives you a kick here. With that assumption I read your example, and think:
Yeah, no wonder people don’t get it.
First: the topic is titled TROPE. Meaning of trope in a linguistic connection: a rhetorical figure of speech that consists of a play on words.
Your example is nothing like a play on words.
Second: in your example you are mocking the crowd admiring the vintage car. You make no attempt to join them in their admiration, but try to shock them out of it by giving them a weird statement, a puzzle at best, to work out the hidden joke you perceive. Obviously nobody else perceives it. One reason is that you mistake their admiration for shock. If they really are shocked by the sight of the car, then your words would come a bit closer to a play on words and therefor could be perceived as an attempt at humour. Without that nobody understands your intention and thinks that you have missed the point, which is admiration of a vintage car.
Humour arises in the crossing of two or more different layers of perceiving a situation, a bit of reality. One perceives something in one way, and at the same moment in a different, conflicting, alternate way, which leads to rise of humour. To get humour across to someone else, the other need to perceive the conflicting views the same way as you. If she doesn’t, then she will not think it as funny, and be puzzled as what you are trying to say.
If you are trying to be extra doubly witty then there is a good chance that it will be lost. If you feel contempt towards another and try to express irony, all what may be perceived is sarcasm, and a sense of being mocked or put down
You may well perceive more layers of reality, which conflict each other, and find it quite funny. But don’t expect others to see the same. To escalate humour or a discussion you need to make sure others can see the steps.
Of course, you are perfectly right.
I have been into street humopur for many years now, once part of travelling show
which interacted with the audience (1970’s).
I am relatively new to the parts of rural Australia where I now live,
From experience I know that had I done this in Sydney, Melbourne
or Glastonbury,
,
I may have got a rewardingly amusing response like this:-
“yes, its macho vintage disregard for modern bi laws”
This forum’s context isn’t linguistics, so it’s unreasonable to insist that Tal use the term in a sense that applies in the jargon of linguistics.
The term trope derives from the τρόπος - tropos "turn, direction, way, related to the root of the verb τρέπειν (trepein), “to turn, to direct, to alter, to change”.[1] A trope is a way of turning a word away from its normal meaning, or turning it into something else.
What linguists do with words–verbal communication–Tal did with the onlookers’ non-verbal communication*, and that is to deliberately misinterpret it for humourous effect.
*The shared attention of “hey, look at this!” is very much a part of human communication; so much so that when someone lacks this capacity to send and receive such signals (as is the case in the severer forms of autism) it constitutes a grave handicap.
“Barfi” is the indic word (my first language is Hindi) and “barfies” would be the anglicised plural form. Indic languages do not use “s” to denote plural as we do in English. With the large South Asian population in UK indic words in English usage would naturally be subject to English forms.
I had felt instinctively that “trope” might be appropriate as a dramatic device descriptor
in relation to my little caper but I wasn’t absolutely sure. Your analogy is convincing. Thanks for that.
Barfi, marzipan, whatever, yuck! At Diwali dinners I avoid barfi like the plague. At Wigilia dinners I avoid marzipan like the plague. People like the strangest things, thank goodness I’m normal.
