In keeping with my love of the English language and most all things sarcastic, today’s topic (deviating far from yesterdays) is about clever insults of generations gone by.
People weren’t any less annoyed or put off by things than we are today, they were just more polite and creative about how they responded. I feel this is a lost art form in the US these days, and I miss it. We’re so quick to jump to four-letter words and the corresponding gestures—even if only in the confines of our cars or minds—that we’ve lost the richness of the insult in the English language. I’m afraid we’ve just resorted to being mean, and frankly, that’s no fun.
Let’s take a look a few different quips from folks, some whom you’ll recognize, and see what makes them so understatedly sassy. I should (and will) preface this post by saying that I have not fact-checked the quotes or attributions. Full disclosure? The quotes came from an email forward (thanks, mom). I liked them so much that I didn’t have the heart to find that they had not ever been uttered or were attributed to the wrong people, so suspend your reality with me for just a bit, yes?
First up we have a particularly clever insult from William Faulkner about Ernest Hemingway. I wish I knew what the context was, but alas.
“He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary.” – William Cuthbert Faulkner (1919-1962)
Ouch! Right? Or, as Aston Kutcher’s character Kelso in “That 70s Show” would say, “Burn!” So yeah, Faulkner isn’t exactly complimenting Hemingway here. Quite the opposite. But it’s also somehow light-hearted. Faulkner is not calling Heminway a bloody simpleton who has no place in literature. He’s not scathing or profane. Faulkner is rather matter of fact as he states his opinion as fact. What is the magic recipe that renders this insult cringe- and giggle-worthy at the same time?
Let’s keep going.
“I’ve had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it.” – Julius Henry “Groucho” Marx (1890-1977)
Granted, Groucho Marx was a famous American comedian. But, still. He says only two lines. One is the set up and one is the punchline. He’s very matter of fact. He’s not belaboring how horrible the dinner party was. No, he’s not saying that at all. But at the same time… he is saying it without saying it. It’s indirect. It’s witty. It delivers. You know exactly how his evening went and how happy he must be to go home.
Now we’ll head over to Scotland. Perhaps the prestigious University of St. Andrews. Let’s imagine Lang and another professorial colleague in the study with a scotch and a pipe in the evening after a day of lectures. And we’ll get a little more direct. Because the Scots.
“He uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp-posts... for support rather than illumination.” – Andrew Lang (1844-1912)
We know exactly where this Scotsman stands in regard to whoever he’s not-so-politely tearing a new one in. He even equates the man to a drunk, but the analogy is just too perfect. Again, nothing particularly outrageous or scathing. Just very clear, very direct, and very witty.
John Bright was a British liberal statesman and a great orator. Instead of saying, “this guy is a pompous ass who is so full of shit that his breath smells,” he simply says:
“He is a self-made man and worships his creator.” – John Bright (1811-1899)
Message received, John! You’re right. No need to get crass.
Ok, so admit it, the giant inner gossip in you that can’t not glance at the tabloids in the grocery store wants to have a beer with this prominent American lawyer, just so you can hear him politely say:
“No sir, I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure.” – Clarence Darrow (1857-1938)
Understated. Matter of fact. Brief. Witty. You can imagine the right side of his mouth just slightly upturned reading the Chicago Times obituary section as his cigar rests on the end table.
Now let’s turn to the infamous Winston Churchill. Imagine that the undersecretary of something-or-other has just left his office. Instead of saying “Oh, what a tired old sod,” or something Britishly equivalent, he whips out this (while lighting his cigar I imagine) after the door slams:
“He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire.” – Winston Churchill (1874-1965)
Churchill. Not exactly known for his raucous sense of humor. The man was a grumpy hawk. But he was also damned clever and just-diplomatic-enough. Brilliant.
Ok, let’s move into the parlor room just after dinner. Imagine the butler comes in with a note from a harried messenger. Irvin S. Cobb reluctantly puts down his glass of brandy and takes the note from the silver tray. He reads it. His wife asks, “What is it dear, anything of import?” He responds that it’s about his wealthy great uncle saying:
“I’ve just learned about his illness. Let's hope it's nothing trivial.” – Irvin S. Cobb (1876-1944)
We’ll end with a quip from a famous Irish author. I imagine a detective is questioning him about an individual of interest in a case, possibly trying to determine motive. Wilde’s response about said individual is this:
“He has no enemies, but is intensely disliked by his friends…” – Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)
Once again, burn! It isn’t intensely revealing for the detective, but he has said his piece.
It was a different time. Insults were craftily couched in gentile language. Insults were often indirect, but perfectly clear nonetheless. It seems everyone had a much sharper wit. I’m not above the occasional F bomb, but I enjoy the hell out of Maggie Smith as the Dowager Countess of Grantham in Downton Abby because the woman could turn a phrase with the best of them.
I hope you’ve been inspired to get creative with your insults… if you must stoop so low. ;)