Joyce's 628-Page Dad Joke

Are puns the lowest form of humor? Why is it that after we make a pun, we often find it necessary to apologize?

“Sorry about that. Couldn’t help myself.”

Let’s be honest, puns are dad jokes, aren’t they?

"What do you call a belt made out of a watch? A waist of time."

There’s something about the way a pun twists in on itself, and away from the outside world, that makes most right-thinking people groan. The pun is simply about language. It’s not a joke about anything but itself. Once I make a pun, I’m no longer talking to you about something, I’m talking about the words I’m using to talk to you.

The lifespan of the pun is miniscule. It is alive only for that split-second it takes for your brain to solve the linguistic puzzle, and then snap, the pun is dead. Watch, waist, waste, time… Ugh. Clever, but fleeting. Quick, but without real depth.

Perhaps that’s why tabloid newspapers adore the pun so much.

I bring this up because I’m about 260 pages into Finnegans Wake, a novel which is based entirely on word play. My unofficial estimate is that 95% of the words printed on the pages of this book exhibit some sort of word play. Hell, 95% is probably low. It’s puns all the way down!

Does this make Finnegans Wake the world’s longest and most frustrating dad joke? Um, sort of? Let’s be honest, there is a lot of humor in these pages, and much of it is silly and sophomoric.

But (you just knew there was going to be a “but,” didn’t you?) this is James Joyce, so these aren’t just simple puns. The words in this book often exhibit several layers of punning. The book doesn’t take a half-step away from the world (as most puns do). Joyce keeps going, pushing the limit of how much meaning he can pack into each word and phrase and sentence and chapter.

Coiling in on itself, Finnegans Wake begins to emerge on the far side. Joyce takes the stuff of this world, bends and twists it as far as he can with the tools at his disposal, and ultimately ends up with a completely new universe, one that exists through a refraction of linguistic representation.

I’ve read that Joyce packed the history of the world into Finnegans Wake. I’m not sure that’s entirely true. I think he recreated the history of the world, and ended up with something that echoes our universe, but is totally and completely unique at the same time.

And he did it all with the lowest form of humor. Pretty neat trick.