Laughter in revolt: Race, ethnicity, and identity in the construction of stand-up comedy
код для вставкиСкачатьLAUGHTER IN REVOLT: RACE, ETHNICITY, AND IDENTITY IN THE CONSTRUCTION OF STAND-UP COMEDY A DISSERTATION SUBMITTED TO THE DEPARTMENT OF DRAMA, THE GRADUATE PROGRAM IN HUMANITIES, AND THE COMMITTEE ON GRADUATE STUDIES OF STANFORD UNIVERSITY IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN DRAMA AND HUMANITIES Matthew Daube November 2009 UMI Number: 3395868 All rights reserved INFORMATION TO ALL USERS The quality of this reproduction is dependent upon the quality of the copy submitted. In the unlikely event that the author did not send a complete manuscript and there are missing pages, these will be noted. Also, if material had to be removed, a note will indicate the deletion. UMI" Dissertation Publishing UMI 3395868 Copyright 2010 by ProQuest LLC. All rights reserved. This edition of the work is protected against unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code. ProQuest LLC 789 East Eisenhower Parkway P.O. Box 1346 Ann Arbor, Ml 48106-1346 (c) Copyright by Matthew Jeremy Daube 2010 All Rights Reserved I certify that I have read this dissertation and that, in my opinion, it is fully adequate in scope and quality as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. I certify that I have read this dissertation and that, in my opinion, it is fully adequate in scope and quality as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. (Alice Rayner) I certify that I have read this dissertation and that, in my opinion, it is fully adequate in scope and quality as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. lelen Brooks) Approved for the Stanford University Committee on Graduate Studies. $ * - / " iii Abstract Positing stand-up comedy as a comic performance structure which emerged in the United States beginning in the 1950s, this dissertation employs performance analyses and historical contextualization to argue that stand-up's style and subject matter are inextricably linked to issues of race, ethnicity, and the production of identity. The major comedians on whom I focus—Lenny Bruce, David Gregory, Bill Cosby, and Richard Pryor—constituted a vanguard of comics who altered the older traditions of joke-telling into an extended direct conversation with the audience. These comics employed laughter to survive and understand pain; to explore obscenity, taboos and stereotypes; and to construct a refashioned form of comedy as a contemporary means for both the comedian and his or her audience to understand the performance of personhood. Introducing a dynamic that would become a major mode of operation for stand-up comedy, Bruce presented ethnicity as a performative process which deserves to operate openly in the public realm. In the late 1950s and early-to-mid 1960s, he placed ethnicity in the United States within the larger framework of race and also launched Jewishness as the fashionable forefront of stand-up comedy self-fashioning. The state-instigated obscenity trials of Bruce shock in retrospect largely because of the success of his legacy, which was the creation of stand-up as a free speech zone, in which flirtation with the obscene is not only tolerated but expected. Dick Gregory and Bill Cosby built on the approaches established by Bruce as they introduced black comedy to the integrated main stage in the early 1960s, each of iv them pioneering a model of how African American comics could intervene in a racial discussion within comedy that had been initiated by non-blacks. Gregory blended gentle generic jokes with sharp social critique, carefully calibrating humor and oneline structure to make some very pointed barbs under cover of congeniality, before his anger channeled into direct political activism off-stage. Cosby quickly followed up as stand-up's first superstar, successful in large part because he approached race by eliminating direct references to it from his act. Gregory and Cosby began the process of integrating comedy, breaking down the barrier live and in person and establishing black humor as a serious matter. Gregory and Cosby also paved the way for Richard Pryor. Driven by a compulsion to examine sites of pain and motivated by an acute consciousness of being a black man in the United States, Pryor revolutionized stand-up through unprecedented attempts to co-opt traditional stereotypes and reverse the centuries-old minstrel tradition, as his work managed to both entertain and instruct. With bravery and bravado, from the late 1960s to early 1980s, Pryor called out the racism of the United States from center stage, using stand-up comedy to turn the previous object of comic discussion—the black man in particular—into the subject speaking on his own behalf. Pryor dramatically expanded the options of what black performers and comics could say and what white audiences would hear. Pryor also shifted the performance movement back onto the track pioneered by Bruce, consisting of open explorations of race and ethnicity, a testing ground of taboo language and topics, and confessions involving an unusually intimate relationship with the audience. Acknowledgments Portions of this dissertation have been presented at the Modern Language Association convention and at the joint national conference of the National Popular Culture and American Culture Associations. Segments of my introduction and conclusion will be incorporated into my upcoming article "The Stand-up as Stand-in: Performer-Audience Intimacy and the Emergence of the Stand-up Comic in the United States since the 1950s," due to be published by Parlor Press in the anthology Live Comedy Audiences, edited by Judith Batalion. At Stanford University I have had significant institutional support from the Department of Drama, the Graduate Program in Humanities, and the Center for Comparative Studies in Race and Ethnicity. My dissertation committee provided guidance that went above and beyond the call of duty. Harry Elam kept me on the right track by asking the larger questions and pushing me to dig deeper. He also kept his door open no matter how often the office itself changed locations. Alice Rayner's invaluable insights helped bring clarity to some of my fog. (The remaining mist is my responsibility alone.) Helen Brooks' thought-filled questions launched many a crucial and fruitful conversation, and I am confident that our dialogue will continue. I have also benefitted greatly from the patient tutelage of previous exam mentors, including Jean-Marie Apostolides, Shelley Fisher Fishkin, and Cherrie Moraga. The openness of my colleagues never fails to touch me. Their feedback has been essential, starting with the dissertation workgroup "Interdisciplinarity and the Academy," which included Ernesto Tlahuitollini Colin, Micaela Diaz-Sanchez, Doris vi Texcallini Madrigal, Julie Minich, Rich Simpson, and the inimitable Zamora. Graduate students in the Department of Drama offered similar support, quite often in the coffee shops of San Francisco's Mission District. For insight, friendship, and hand-crafted coffee by the cup, I thank Kyle Gillette, Rachel Joseph, Barry Kendall, Florentina Mocanu-Schendel, and Daniel Sack. The advice and companionship of my fellow fellows at the Center for Comparative Studies in Race and Ethnicity this past year breathed new life into body and soul; my gratitude goes out to Jocelyn Chua, Jolene Hubbs, and Doris Texcallini Madrigal. Friends such as Sean Cook, Deb Garfinkle, Todd Gutmann, and Kathleen Vanden Heuvel were both adept at keeping me sane and forgiving when I had to spend a Friday night dissertating. The students in my seminars on race and ethnicity in standup comedy never failed to impress me with their intellectual acuity, and always stunned me with the power and facility of their stand-up performances. Family has remained tolerant and loving throughout, and I remind my parents Jonathan and Linda, my brother Andrew, my sister Katharine, her partner Michelle and their children Esther, Noah, and Ari that I love them all, even if I do live in California. Cousins Mike and Sue Austin have been particularly supportive of my academic pursuits. The spirit and memory of my late grandfather David accompany me through every stage of life. I have appreciated every opportunity to celebrate his memory with his widow Helen and her daughter Tina. This dissertation is dedicated to two extraordinary individuals without whose luminous minds and hearts I might never have crossed the doctoral finish line: namely, Micaela Diaz-Sanchez and Harry Elam. vii Table of Contents Abstract iv Acknowledgments vi Introduction 1 Identifying Stand-up Comedy 1 Stand-up Starter: Mort Sahl 6 Race and Comedy 9 Scholarly Precedents 13 Chapter Outline 18 Looking Ahead 20 Chapter One: "Lenny Bruce: The Outing of Ethnicity in Stand-up Comedy" 23 Prologue 23 Imitating Others: Bruce's Vaudevillian Origins 25 Jewish American Humor and Assimilation 36 Outing Ethnicity: Bruce's Overt Jewishness 42 Complicating Ethnicity: Bruce's Jewishness as Performed 49 Comedy Cool: Race-ing Ethnicity 56 Epilogue 67 Chapter Two: "Utter Taboos: The Obscenity of Lenny Bruce" 71 Prologue 71 Standing Trial: Obscenity in San Francisco 73 Vulgarity and the Vernacular: Bruce's Burlesque Background 82 Unmasking the Man: Speaking like the People 88 Blasphemy in Chicago 93 Performing Oneself 100 Epilogue: Sick Humor 109 Chapter Three: "Standing Up Black: Dick Gregory and Bill Cosby" 116 Prologue 116 Setting the Stage: Before Gregory 118 Dick Gregory: Cracking the Color Line 122 Bill Cosby: Race Erasure? 139 Epilogue 152 viii Chapter Four: "Burning with Desire: Richard Pryor's Body of Pain" 153 Prologue 153 Prior Pryor, Cosby Clone 154 Identity Crisis: Breaking Id Down 160 Pryor Desire 170 Pryor on Fire: Body of Pain 178 Epilogue 182 Chapter Five: "Bursting the Laughing Barrel: Richard Pryor's Performance of Race" 184 Prologue 184 Back to Black: Re-claiming Roots 185 Loaded Language: The N-Word and Stereotype 190 Race as Performance: Revealing Whiteness 207 Epilogue 213 Afterword 215 Bruce, Gregory, Cosby, Pryor: The Legacy 215 Stand-up Comedy's Glass Curtain: the Gender Gap 220 Standing Up 227 Sources Cited 229 ix Introduction The real geniuses of the comic are not those who make us laugh hardest but those who reveal some unknown realm of the comic. History has always been considered an exclusively serious territory. But there is the undiscovered comic side to history.1 —Milan Kundera Identifying Stand-up Comedy The aim of this dissertation is to contextualize stand-up comedy as a comic performance structure which emerged in the United States beginning in the 1950s. I argue that stand-up's style and subject matter are inextricably linked to issues of race, ethnicity and the production of identity. Arising in the midst of the Civil Rights Era, the form lent itself to racial and ethnic minorities who queried the evolving relationship between the individual and society-as-a-whole. Rooted in older forms of comedy and vaudeville, stand-up pushes further into the realm of the topical, extending the comic monologue into a full-length stage show based upon the public presentation of the comedian's personal life. The comedians on whom I focus—Lenny Bruce, David Gregory, Bill Cosby, and Richard Pryor—were the vanguard of those who altered the older traditions of comic joke-telling into an extended direct conversation with the audience, creating a space of extraordinary intimacy. These comics employed laughter to survive and understand pain; to explore obscenity, ' Milan Kundera, The Art of the Novel, trans. Linda Asher (New York: Harper & Row, 1986, 1988), 126. 1 taboos and stereotypes; and to construct a refashioned form of comedy as a contemporary means for both the comedian and his or her audience to understand the performance of personhood. Subsequent stand-up comics continue to follow the blueprint sketched by these performers in the first few decades following World War II. One could, of course, apply the label of stand-up comic to any person who stands before any audience at any time (or in any era) in order to tell jokes. Respected humor scholar Lawrence Mintz does just this when he declares that "standup comedy is arguably the oldest, most universal, basic, and deeply significant form of humorous expression . . . It is the purest public comic communication, performing essentially the same social and cultural roles in practically every known society, past and present."2 Such a broad-brushed approach may be driven by the desire to justify the significance of a neglected art form, and casting a wide net can unfold stand-up's connections to alternative modes of humor and performance. Explanations of the craft tend to center on technique, and definitions lean toward the tautological or the opaque—note the Oxford English Dictionary's definition of the stand-up comic as "a comedian whose act consists of standing before an audience and telling a succession of jokes."3 Capacious definitions, however, run the risk of discounting the historical particularity of those who have been most commonly labeled as stand-up comics, by both critics and the public. 2 Lawrence E. Mintz, "Standup Comedy as Social and Cultural Mediation," American Quarterly 37, no. 1(1985): 71. 3 "Stand-up, A. And N," The Oxford English Dictionary, Oxford University Press, http://dictionary.oed.com/cgi/entry/50236106. 2 The term "stand-up" comedy, after all, entered the lexicon only in the 1950s.4 Before the latter half of the twentieth century, the United States lacked specialized venues for the performance of comic monologues. Rather, there was an assortment of forums, from vaudeville to burlesque, and solo joke-telling appeared on-stage alongside songs, skits, dancing, juggling, magic, animal acts, and more. Jokesmiths tended to ply multiple show business trades—e.g., Jack Benny played the violin, Fanny Brice sang, and Sammy Davis, Jr., a prime example of a Chitlin' Circuit5 veteran, could sing, dance, play music, tell jokes and do comic impressions. Some comedians toyed with a facade of the personal—think of the married couple George Burns and Gracie Allen playing a married couple—but their jokes remained generic and professional, lacking stand-up's affectation of non-professionalism and seeming dependence upon the specifics of performers' daily lives off-stage. The rise of stand-up comedy occurred within a larger questioning of the role of the individual in a rapidly changing society post-World War II. As a solo performer, the comic confronts what David Riesman's classic 1950 tome The Lonely Crowd describes as an accelerating struggle to maintain individuality in a nation increasingly dominated by large corporate and government structures. Approval from one's peers became a more pressing goal, which helps contextualize the comedian's desire to win over the audience's laughter. Riesman asserts that an escalation of conformity in the 4 1 have found use of the word in the New York Times as early as 1954. Sidney Lohman, "News and Notes from the Television and Radio Studios," New York Times, April 18, 1954. The earliest Oxford English Dictionary listing stems from the August 11, 1966 edition of The Listener, a weekly magazine published by the British Broadcasting Corporation from 1929 until 1991: "Stand-up, A. AndN." 5 The Chitlin Circuit, founded in the 1920s, was a separate vaudeville circuit established for black performers playing for black audiences in cities primarily in the Midwest and the South. The original association folded by the end of the decade, but the term is used to this day to refer to a loose network of venues providing live performance by blacks for blacks, usually in a working class milieu. 3 workplace sparked a greater need for leisure time pursuits, which could presumably include nightclubs. These moments away from the office could generate space, in his words, "for the would-be autonomous man to reclaim his individual character from the pervasive demands of his social character."6 Comedy's response to these characterological concerns has been to create stand-up as a site in which to probe the anxiety. Written in 1959—the same year that Lenny Bruce became nationally famous— Erving Goffman's The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life plays off the same uncertainty about the status of individuals when he argues for the performative quality of playing social roles off the stage. The action of stand-up comedy echoes the "selfproduction" cited by Goffman, in which we attempt to regulate the impressions of others in our everyday encounters.7 While Goffman is "not concerned with aspects of theater that creep into everyday life," stand-up comedy is most definitely concerned with aspects of everyday life that creep into the theater.8 Goffman differentiates theater from everyday life by dividing it into players, characters, and an audience: "on the stage one player presents himself in the guise of a character to characters projected by other players; the audience constitutes a third party to the interaction—one that is essential and yet, if the stage performance were real, one that would not be there."9 One can recognize "real life" because "the three parties are compressed into two" by 6 David Riesman, The Lonely Crowd (Yale University Press, 1961, 2001), 276. Erving Goffman, The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life (New York: Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc., 1959), 253. 8 Ibid., 254. 9 Ibid., xi. 7 4 rejecting the audience.10 In stand-up comedy, compression occurs because the number of players is reduced to one, who performs his or her own character, complete with matching name and life history, speaking directly with the audience.11 The comedian is not engaged in identical performances on and off-stage, but plays off the symbiotic relationship, using the stand-up act to replicate and comically exaggerate the process of constructing a personal identity. By conceiving of identity as a process rather than a stable entity, I follow the lead of Stuart Hall, who suggests that "[p]erhaps instead of thinking of identity as an already accomplished fact... we should think, instead, of identity as a 'production', which is never complete, always in process, and always constituted within, not outside, representation."12 In the stand-up spotlight, the audience watches a person present him or herself, not as a fully formed or static individual, but as a person in process, expressing opinions and eliciting feedback in the live. The presentation differs from traditional comedy and theater insofar as the details and mannerisms of the character portrayed align closely with the 10 Ibid. Antecedents to the stand-up comic's direct address to the audience include the English Renaissance drama soliloquy. What is similar about the soliloquy and stand-up is the use of inner thoughts to establish a more direct relationship with an audience. Marjorie Garber describes the soliloquies given to Shakespearean tragic heroes as producing "a sense of interior consciousness rather like Romantic odes and modern lyric poems" and argues that the focus on such characters in the early twentieth century "inevitably led to a reaction that insisted upon their cultural specificity, upon categories of identity like race and class, gender, ethnicity and religion." Marjorie Garber, Shakespeare after All (New York: Anchor Books, 2004), 18. The impression of inner thoughts being spoken may lead the audience to. ponder questions of identity formation, however, "Shakespeare's plays do not have a single voice, a lyric 'I,' or a 'focalized' character through whom the audience or reader is tacitly expected to interpret the play" and even with dramatic soliloquies, "the audience is given extensive evidence within the play to judge and evaluate the truth claims and ethical assertions that are so eloquently set forth by these charismatic speakers. We should remember that some of the most effective soliloquies, both in Shakespeare and elsewhere in English Renaissance drama, are put in the mouths of, and at the service of, Machiavellian characters." Garber, Shakespeare after All, 8. Whether or not one accepts the term "Machiavellian" to connote evil machinations, the point stands that Hamlet is not Shakespeare any more than Gertrude or Claudius are Shakespeare. There is not the same overlap of author, performer, and character as we have in stand-up comedy. 12 Stuart Hall, "Cultural Identity and Diaspora," in Identity: Community, Culture, Difference, ed. Jonathan Rutherford (London: Lawrence & Wishart, 1990), 222. 11 5 person behind the performance, and the text to be interpreted stems not from a traditional playwright, but from the text of the comic's everyday life. With the public performance dependent on material from the private life, stand-up provides an uncommon opportunity to examine the performance of identity as a process of negotiation. Stuart Hall argues further that "[precisely because identities are constructed within, not outside, discourse, we need to understand them as produced in specific historical and institutional sites within specific discursive formations and practices, by specific enunciative strategies."13 This understanding places further importance on investigating the historical formation of stand-up comedy, asking why and how these comedians chose the enunciative strategy of standup comedy in order to query the practice of identity formation in the United States. Stand-up Starter: Mort Sahl Mort Sahl is the first nationally known comedian to undertake the stand-up comedy model for his entire act. When Sahl premiered in December of 1953 at the San Francisco nightclub "the hungry i," his casual dress and conversational style signaled a sharp break from the traditional tuxedoed nightclub comedian. Donning a sweater, Sahl consciously evoked the guise of a young Intellectual, still dressing as he had when studying city management and traffic engineering at the University of Southern California. The conspicuous newspaper tucked under his arm indicated an intent to occupy the audience with news of the day, and he embraced a colloquial tone 13 , "Introduction: Who Needs 'Identity'?," in Questions of Cultural Identity, ed. Stuart Hall and Paul du Gay (SAGE Publications, 1996), 4. 6 more suited to that of a family seated around the kitchen table than that of a professional entertainer and his middle class audience. Sahl substituted jokes about current events and ostensibly private experiences for the then standard target of mothers-in-law. Rather than interacting with other professionals on-stage, Sahl directly addresses the audience, which serves as the silent partner in a comic dialogue. This allows for a closer relationship between entertainer and audience, predicated on a conversation in the present, and topical enough to include events of the moment. Sahl's first album, The Future Lies Ahead (1958), recorded live, opens with references to the low ratings received by the press conference held by President Eisenhower just a day before the performance. Teasing both the president and the taste of the nation, Sahl tells his audience: "and, uh, he made a speech last night, which got a '7' on NBC, that says.. .right? And uh.. .and Zorro got an ' 18'?"14 Public sentiment in the television age, as measured by market share, has become more important than either Eisenhower or Zorro, and an era which measures opinions so meticulously conjures comedians who do the same. Sahl's focus on a performer's personal opinions and life leads to a shift away from the transposable joke-telling of vaudevillian comics, whose material could be delivered by any comedian with the requisite technical skill, to humor contingent on the revelations of the comic's stream of thought. As can be seen in the extended opening from side two of The Future Lies Ahead, Sahl simulates the concatenation of free association: Within a few scant minutes, Sahl's stream-of-consciousness approach 14 Mort Sahl, The Future Lies Ahead (Verve, 1958). 7 accommodates the Cold War, leading political figures, his own service in the national guard, his time at college, and a meta-commentary on the use of English. The closest Sahl gets to a traditional joke is the pun on "standard deviation": I have a lot of offbeat non-commercial jokes about a course I took at Cal once called Statistical Analysis. And there was a guy in the course who used to make up all his computations and he never used sigma. He used to use his own initials, be—right, cause he was a standard deviation, that's all I was going to say...15 after which he goes on to discuss his radio show, his apartment, touring with jazz pianist Dave Brubeck, the NAACP, the AMA, a recent bank robbery committed by veterans, and more. More than an anonymous jokester, Sahl shares his interior monologue with all onlookers. By adopting colloquial speech and mimicking the mannerisms of an audience member, with his speech full of hems and haws and stuttered repeating phrases, Sahl both plays the part of a man on the street speaking his mind and is that man, in that the opinions expressed are his own. With the possible exception of the trick rope artist, star satirist, and Hollywood actor Will Rogers (1879-1935), no American comic monologist had cut such an intimate figure on stage. Both men spoke as outsiders, closer to the crowd than one might expect from a celebrity. Rogers, while undoubtedly an influence, nonetheless did not weave his personal life into public material to the degree done by Sahl, who includes anecdotes about his dating life alongside opinions on Vice President Nixon's foreign travels. This is a bold move for an era when, as Gerard Nachman attests, "the mere idea of a stand-up comic talking about the real world was in itself 15 Ibid. 8 revolutionary."16 Even more radical and influential is Sahl's situating of himself front and center, calling into question whether the so-called "real world" ends at the stage's edge. With Sahl, the comedian becomes an individual, not in the sense of an abstract everyman, but as an actual next-door neighbor. As Joan Rivers puts it, "Audiences nowadays want to know their comedian. Can you please tell me one thing about Bob Hope? If you only listened to his material, would you know the man? His comedy is another America, an America that is not coming back."17 Sahl's attempt to take his performance of self to the stage has been adopted by the entire medium, as stand-up comics continue to highlight the contiguity between their on and off-stage personas, deliberately and consciously projecting an aura of casual non-performance, building comedic characters that purport to reflect the persons behind the personas. Race and Comedy In retrospect, it seems fitting that stand-up comedy, with its emphasis on the performer's personal life, would become a place for the expression of ethnic experiences. Mort Sahl, however, expressly denied that being Jewish had an impact on his comedy, claiming that "I don't have any kinship with a Jewish background.... If the role of the Jew is to rock the boat and to be inquisitive—intellectually curious that is—fine. Classic role."18 Whatever his motivation, Sahl's decision to downplay his 16 Gerald Nachman, Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s (New York: Pantheon Books, 2003), 51. 17 Ibid., 22. 18 Quoted in Ibid., 69. Sahl continues to dismiss his Judaism. In an interview on National Public Radio's Fresh Air, Terri Gross asked Sahl whether Borscht Belt dialect comedians impacted his work, to which Sahl replied "No. I never had an orthodox taste—you should forgive the expression, but you know, I spent an awful lot of my years around jazz." "Interview: Mort Sahl discusses the role of the political 9 Jewishness may have been vital for success as stand-up's first nationally known act; it was risky enough for Sahl to criticize mainstream Protestant white America without accenting his ethnicity. Sahl's omission of ethnicity was anomalous for such a topical art form. After all, the historical period encompassing the emergence of stand-up comedy overlaps with that of the Civil Rights Movement. From the 1955-6 Montgomery Bus Boycott, to the Voting Rights Act of 1966, to the Black Power movements of the late 1960s and early 1970s, the decades covered in this dissertation were ones in which race was publicly queried. As discussed in Chapter One, Lenny Bruce, not Sahl, was to be the crucial pioneer in connecting stand-up comedy explicitly to race and ethnicity. My placement of Bruce's ethnicity inside the framework of race sets me apart from the predominant approach to ethnic humor, which is to regard ethnicity as a temporary stage along the process of Americanization.19 Richard Perry distinguishes ethnicity as a method of cultural differentiation related to (but not synonymous with) culture and heritage, adding that it is a paradigm which tends to be viewed in terms that are contingent and layered.20 Ethnicity is a more mutable social category than race, and not as directly linked to the history of European colonialism. According to Michael Omi and Howard Winant, "Americans have come to view race as a variety of ethnicity" but I adhere to the converse conception that, within the United States, ethnicity is a differentiation mediated within the framework of race, most often satirist and his career as a comedian." Fresh Air. National Public Radio: December 23, 2003.While Bruce would use jazz cool to bestow hipness upon his Jewishness, Sahl never exhibited a similar effort to publicly examine his own ethnic roots. 19 1 mention specific cases of this inclination below, in my review of the scholarship. 20 Richard Perry, "Race" And Racism: The Development of Modern Racism in America (New York and Houndmills: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007), 62. 10 employed to distinguish between fluctuating sub-categories of whiteness.21 The ethnic paradigm can be useful for examining difference within the non-black community, and I use it for these purposes with the belief that the larger context in the United States is (and always has been) that of race. I agree with the criticism that some proponents of the ethnicity school "fail to grasp the extent to which U.S. society is racially structured from top to bottom," and attempt to place my discussion of Brace's ethnicity in conversation with that very racial structure.22 I align this dissertation with the conceptualization of race set forth by Michael Omi and Howard Winant which "emphasizes the social nature of race, the absence of any essential racial characteristics, the historical flexibility of racial meanings and categories, the conflictual character of race at both the 'micro-' and 'macro-social' levels, and the irreducible political aspect of racial dynamics."23 Race is, as George Lipsitz attests, "a cultural construct," understood differently depending on the historical situation.24 Race incurs paradox as, in the words of Winant, "[r]ace is not only real, but also illusory. Not only is it common sense; it is also common nonsense. Not only does it establish our identity; it also denies us our identity."25 Race is unreal in that it has no basis in biology, but the practice of racism has a very real and material impact. It can be helpful to consider race as an on-going process or "doing." As Harry Elam explains, "Conceiving race as a doing enables us to examine how subjects repeat 21 Michael Omi and Howard Winant, Racial Formation in the United States: From the 1960s to the 1990s (New York: Routledge, 1994), 4. 22 Ibid., 50. 23 Ibid., 4. 24 George Lipsitz, The Possessive Investment of Whiteness (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2006), 3. 25 Howard Winant, "Racial Dualism at Century's End," in The House That Race Built, ed. Wahneema Lubiano(1998),90. 11 or perhaps even subvert established gestures, behaviors, linguistic patterns, cultural attitudes, and social expectations associated with race."26 Deeply entwined with the performance of race, spotlighting individuals querying their identity within broad social categories, stand-up comedy provides an excellent opportunity for just such an examination. It should come as no surprise that some of the most cutting-edge questions concerning race, ethnicity, and identity arise within comedy given the frequent invocation of a "comic license" to deal with issues considered taboo and/or troubling. Indeed, the lack of serious regard granted to comedy allows it to deal with thorny and paradoxical issues. Many humor theorists suggest that humor is actually built on paradox, in that it relies upon the co-existence of two contradictory narratives. For example, Arthur Koestler writes that humor stems from "the clash of the two mutually incompatible codes, or associative contexts,"27 while Victor Raskin's influential Semantic Mechanisms of Humor refers to the phenomenon in terms of incompatible linguistic scripts.28 The troubling paradox of race, an unreal concept with horrifyingly real consequences, makes perfect fodder for comedy. Stand-up comedy, with its further emphasis on identity, becomes a central site for the conversation on race in the United States as the tragic dynamic of race fits all too well into the comic structure of stand-up. 26 Harry Elam, "Towards a New Territory in 'Multicultural' Theater," in The Color of Theater: Race, Culture, and Contemporary Performance, ed. Roberto Uno (Continuum, 2002). 27 Arthur Koestler, The Act of Creation (Reading: Arkana, 1964, 1989), 35. 28 Victor Raskin, Semantic Mechanisms of Humor (D. Reidel Publishing Company, 1985). 12 Scholarly Precedents The most notable academic precedent for locating stand-up in this post-war era is John Limon's impressive Stand-up Comedy in Theory, or, Abjection in America.20 Limon employs a psychoanalytic framework to examine stand-up's role as a force operating in the margins, focusing on abjection and the account of Jewish integration into mainstream white middle-class America. Limon writes on Richard Pryor but does not account for the strong presence of African American comedians such as Dick Gregory and Bill Cosby and their successors. He is less concerned with the historical development of stand-up than with providing a psychoanalytic geometry for the form. Limon also defines stand-up far more broadly than I, venturing beyond the live solo figure into comedy teams (such as Nichols & May and Reiner & Brooks); television hosts (David Letterman); and performers who could be considered comic actors rather than practitioners of a genre in which one performs one's self (again, the duos Nichols & May and Reiner & Brooks). While many stand-up comics have had great success and impact performing in alternate media, my primary concern is with stand-ups performing stand-up per se—that is, with individual performers engaging live audiences with a conversational performance of self. While Limon declares that he is not "trying to locate and analyze the most influential post-World War II American stand-up comedians.. .or the funniest ones," I am quite specifically attempting the former.30 29 John Limon, Stand-up Comedy in Theory, or Abjection in America (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2000). 30 Ibid., 3. 13 There is a dearth of work on stand-up comedy qua stand-up comedy. Among a handful of shorter articles theorizing stand-up, Philip Auslander's work stands out. Auslander has written about Roseanne Barr and Andy Kaufman through the lens of performance theory, conceiving of stand-up as a postmodern performance mode and "fellow traveler of rock music."31 He does not, however, discuss the racial politics undergirding both stand-up comedy and rock music, or the issue of comedy as a distinct performance tradition. Select books investigate the specific cultural influence of these artists, most notably Bruce and Pryor, but the form of stand-up remains peripheral to their major points. For example, Ronald K.L. Collins and David M. Skover's The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon promotes the image of Bruce as a free speech patriot, focusing on the legal aspects of his life.32 John. A. Williams and Dennis A. Williams wrote a biography of Pryor, If I Stop I'll Die: the Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pryor, which goes beyond the merely personal to historicize Pryor within the Civil Rights and Black Power movement.33 Gerald Nachman's Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s34 is valuable for biographical data, but remains exposition rather than theory. In addition to reviews or biographies of stand-up comics, many artist wrote (or collaborated on) their own autobiographies. Desperate for money when his court costs 31 Philip Auslander, "Comedy About the Failure of Comedy: Stand-up Comedy and Postmodernism," in Critical Theory and Performance (University of Michigan Press, 1992), 199. 32 Ronald K. L. Collins and David M. Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon (Naperville, Illinois: Sourcebooks, Inc., 2002). 33 John A. Williams and Dennis A. Williams, If I Stop I'll Die: The Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pryor (New York, New York: Thunder's Mouth Press, 1991, 1993). 34 Nachman, Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s. 14 soared, Lenny Bruce serialized the story of his life in Playboy in 1964-5, and later released the factually suspect collection as How to Talk Dirty and Influence Peopled Dick Gregory wrote several autobiographies, starting with nigger: an autobiography?6 Pryor has served as the subject of multiple biographies and published his own in 1995, entitled Pryor Convictions, and other Life Sentences?1 Most of the works on stand-up comics take the form of life stories, of how the stand-up comic went from humble beginnings to being a superstar, rather than an analysis of how their performances function. A few scholars have looked at the intersection of comedy and ethnicity. Joseph Boskin and Joseph Dorinson's "Ethnic Humor: Subversion and Survival" contends that "[ejthnic humor in the United States originated as a function of social class feelings of superiority and white racial antagonisms"38 while John Lowe's brief survey "Theories of Ethnic Humor: How to Enter, Laughing" maintains that "[ejthnic comedians, especially blacks and Jews, have in many ways created the national sense of humor."39 All three of these authors portray ethnic humor as part of an Americanization, in which the end goal is to maintain superficial ethnic differences while joining the American mainstream. I believe that Bruce and Pryor capitalize on the traditional space of ethnic humor, but attempt to trouble the process of Americanization, making stand-up a distinct form of ethnic humor. 35 Lenny Bruce, How to Talk Dirty and Influence People (Simon & Schuster, 1967, 1992). Dick Gregory, Nigger (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1964). 37 Richard Pryor, Pryor Convictions (New York: Random House, Inc., 1995). 38 Joseph Boskin and Joseph Dorinson, "Ethnic Humor: Subversion and Survival," American Quarterly 37, no. 1(1985): 81. 39 John Lowe, "Theories of Ethnic Humor: How to Enter, Laughing," American Quarterly 38, no. 3 (1986): 452-3. 36 15 The most prominent book on African American humor is Mel Watkins On The Real Side: A History of African American Comedy from Slavery to Chris Rock (1999). Watkins presents African American humor as an inheritance from West Africa and a response to slavery, segregation, and their successors, a humor which recognizes the irrationality and pain of race in America and uses satire to both express and affect the situation, while taking advantage of comedy's capacity to conceal a community's conversation. He also argues that "it is the expressive manner of African American humor that, second to music, has most influenced mainstream America's popular culture."40 Watkins outlines how Pryor brought along a larger cultural tradition when entering into stand-up comedy. Glenda Carpio also puts Pryor into a wider context in her chapter "The Conjurer Recoils: Slavery in Richard Pryor's Performances and Chappelle 's Show" from her book Laughing Fit to Kill: Black Humor in the Fictions of Slavery, articulating the ways in which Pryor "gives an extraordinary range of voices and gestures to the psychological and physical injury and pain" incurred by the legacy of slavery.411 do not disagree with Watkins and Carpio so much as address the particularities unique to stand-up comedy that help explain much of his path and impact. An acknowledgment of Jewish influence on American humor has become commonplace over the past fifty years. In 1962, Theodor Reik, a former student of Freud's and an emigre to America, made a self-proclaimed attempt to continue Freud's work on humor by psychoanalyzing the phenomenon of Jewish humor. Reik's 40 Mel Watkins, On the Real Side: A History of African American Comedy (Chicago, Illinois: Lawrence Hill Books, 1994, 1999), 47-8. 41 Glenda R. Carpio, Laughing Fit to Kill: Black Humor in the Fictions of Slavery (New York City: Oxford University Press, 2008), 103. 16 Jewish Wit simultaneously celebrated Jewish jokes and professed hope that Jews would abandon the masochistic and paranoid aspects apparent in their jokes, so that one would not be able to tell Jews from gentiles via their humor. Sara Blacher Cohen traces Jewish joking back to the Yiddish humor of nineteenth century Europe, reminding us that "Freud attributed the Jews' excessive ridicule of themselves to the excessive aggression that they had to conceal to survive in such an inimical society,"42 to which one might suggest that the lingering use of this humor through the twentieth century would indicate that Jewish awareness of their marginal position was not left behind in Europe. Common wisdom is, however, that rather than Jewish Americans surrendering their characteristic humor, Jewish humor has instead spread to the rest of America, and it was only three years after the publication of Jewish Wit that Esquire ran an article entitled "The Yiddishization of American Humor." By now, the prevailing view accords with Joseph Dorinson's conceptualization of Jewish American humor as both a defense mechanism and a manner of cultural affirmation. As Jews face fewer obstacles in America and their humor becomes common property, Reik may be getting his wish; signally, Jerry Seinfeld's television persona is the athletic womanizer Woody Allen was in his private life but felt compelled to conceal. It may be that the discovery and partial appropriation of stand-up comedy by the deep pockets of television has drained the field of some of its power to decenter and disrupt established hierarchies. Time and again, what these texts do not address is the distinctive nature of stand-up comedy as a performance mode, including the specifics of its historical 42 Sara Blacher Cohen, "The Varieties of Jewish Humor," in Jewish Wry: Essays on Jewish Humor, ed. Sara Blacher Cohen (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1987), 4. 17 emergence and capacity to perform identity. There remains a scholarly need to look at the stand-up careers of the performers who shaped the medium, to investigate their acts and ask what their particular performances reveal about the performance of race, ethnicity, and identity in the United States. Chapter Outline Chapter One, "Lenny Bruce: The Outing of Ethnicity in Stand-up Comedy," explores Bruce's performance of his Jewish identity in the 1950s and early 1960s. Assimilation was still the norm in the field of entertainment and I argue that his overt Jewishness operated as a challenge to the establishment norm of Christian whiteness. Pushing the boundaries of accepted behavior, Bruce framed his ethnicity in relation to race, in part by appropriating elements of jazz cool. His public construction of identity points to the performativity of race and also raises questions regarding whether Bruce revealed or reiterated the stereotypes he interrogated. Heavily influencing the nascent art form, Bruce set the precedent for subsequent expressions of ethnicity within standup. Chapter Two, "Utter Taboos: The Obscenity of Lenny Bruce," investigates Bruce's use of taboo words, arguing that the particular terms uttered were less threatening than the concepts of non-normative race, ethnicity, sexuality that lay embedded inside the context of their use. The state acted threatened by Bruce's speech acts, as evidenced by obscenity trials in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Chicago, and New York. Bruce's work developed what the performance mode could achieve in 18 terms of articulating heterodox identities and established stand-up as a central free speech zone in the United States. Chapter Three, "Standing Up Black: Dick Gregory and Bill Cosby," probes the impact of the first two major African American stand-up comedians, examining their divergent strategies for tackling issues of race once stand-up opened its main stage to non-white performers. I argue that their approaches provide the primary options for the African American comedians who later came to dominate the field, such as Eddie Murphy, Chris Rock, and Dave Chappelle. Dick Gregory refashions black comedy's capacity to deal with the pain of racism in order to broach the loaded subject in front of largely white audiences. The first superstar in stand-up, Cosby attempts to elide race and erase stereotype by providing substitute images, rather than employing direct performative analysis. Their withdrawal from stand-up in the mid-1960s—Gregory to social activism; Cosby to television stardom—left stand-up in suspension, uncertain whether or not race would play a central role in its future. Chapter Four, "Burning with Desire: Richard Pryor's Body of Pain," delineates the manner in which Richard Pryor reinvented stand-up comedy by reinventing his performance of self. I trace how he evolves from a Bill Cosby copycat in the early-tomid 1960s into a 1970s comedian who speaks with unprecedented frankness in front of integrated audiences about issues of black identity and language. Pryor revives stand-up when it looks as if it could fade back into the less personalized performance form of vaudevillian joke-telling. Filling the void left by Gregory and Cosby, Pryor modeled personal pain and desire as twin engines with which the stand-up propels his or her comedy. 19 Chapter Five, "Bursting the Laughing Barrel: Richard Pry or's Performance of Whiteness," explores the significance of Pryor's revelation of previously segregated black humor in front of white audiences. Pryor introduces the heritage of centuries of African American humor into the racial and ethnic aspects of stand-up already fleshed out by Bruce. Pryor tests the bounds of speech acts by attempting to rehabilitate the Nword, performing blackness with explanation but without apology. Pryor turns the tables, calling out white power and privilege. I argue that his performance of whiteness is particularly revolutionary in its repudiation of centuries of minstrelsy within the popular culture of the United States. After Pryor, there was no uncertainty that stand-up would remain a central arena for the expression and exploration of race in the United States. Looking Ahead Standing in front of the crowd, proclaiming their sins and opinions, stand-up comics serve as primers on how to mark oneself as an individual through opinions and quirks, even while their action can provide an excuse for the majority of the crowd to remain seated and silent. For their part, the stand-up audience sits in judgment, representing both themselves and society-at-large, gathered to pass judgment on the individual and the society. Of course, the process is circular, for to judge one's representation is to judge oneself, if only in comparison. Stand-up comedy reflects the Zeitgeist and its audience-participants, who help fashion the comedian's narrative identity via feedback mechanisms such as laughter, applause, attendance, and the occasional heckling. 20 The work and struggles of Lenny Bruce, Dick Gregory, Bill Cosby, and Richard Pryor were both personal and public, and this tension fueled the creation of a new comic performance mode. They found laughter in revolt by plumbing the comic potential of that which is considered distasteful and usually kept behind closed doors. They also used laughter to revolt, to question social absurdities and interrogate the process of identity construction. Both on their own and by influencing others, these four forged the structure of stand-up comedy, extending its dimensions into a prominent vehicle for social critique which continues to impact our society, often unrecognized despite its ubiquity, and frequently giving expression to those who previously lacked a public voice. Stand-up comedy has not, of course, extended its spotlight to everyone, with women noticeably absent from stand-up stardom in these early decades and the comedians themselves, as I will show, struggling with the expression of their non-heteronormative inclinations. From the 1950s through the present, stand-up comedy has operated as a major forum for the performance of the production of self, with a series of personal confessions and accusations all focused on a single body. This dissertation presents stand-up comedy as a performance tradition rather than a thing or an abstract form. I do not attempt to cement a definition, although stand-up comedy has its tendencies: a propensity to involve the humorous public self-fashioning of a persona which draws upon events and details from the performer's off-stage life; a conversational quality to the delivery; a humorous style; the appearance of improvisation; and the questioning of social identities, most notably those surrounding race and ethnicity. As we will see within, the investigation of these four comics opens up an understanding of stand-up 21 comedy's initial emergence as a major arts movement in the United States, one which has subsequently begun to spread across the world and influence a variety of other media forms. 22 Chapter One: "Lenny Bruce: The Outing of Ethnicity in Stand-up Comedy" "[Cartoonist and writer Jules] Feiffer was struck by Bruce's candor about his Jewishness: 'It frightened me, because when I grew up, you didn't wear your Jewishness on your sleeve, because you were essentially among enemies.'"43 "I am a Jew before this court. I would like to set the record straight, that the Jew is not remorseful." —Lenny Bruce, testifying before the New York Criminal Court44 Prologue One of Lenny Bruce's routines in the late 1950s was a commentary on the life of touring performers playing out-of-the-way towns in middle America. The bit "Lima, Ohio" laments the lot of a sophisticated urban comedian forced to spend time apart from the active life of civilization, in a land of inertia. Patrons pack the shows, meaning that business is good. Most are repeat customers more interested in getting drunk—Bruce states that "they're depressed because they're there"—than they are in the act.45 According to Bruce, places like Lima have "one Chinese restaurant that serves bread and butter" and he bemoans the fact that there are only two other people staying in the show business hotel, one of whom runs the local movie projector.46 Bruce is adrift without the ethnic markers of the city. He presents middle America as isolated due to an absence of minorities and entertainers; it's a bland white-washed Quoted in Nachman, Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s, 397. Henry Paul, "Final Performance Nets Four Months at Hard Labor," Village Voice, December 24, 1964. 45 Lenny Bruce, The Essential Lenny Bruce., ed. John Michael Cohen (New York: Ballantine Books, 1967), 126. 46 , Lenny Bruce: Let the Buyer Beware (Shout! Factory, 2004). 44 23 world without diversity. A second generation citizen of the United States who belongs in part to the majority culture and in part to his parents' Jewish heritage, Bruce sets himself up in contrast to that whiteness, with his indeterminate ethnic status meaning that whiteness could attack or assimilate him—or both. Bruce continues his tale of Lima, describing how a couple in their 50s or 60s emerges from out of the audience after the show, asking for Bruce. The husband is from New York and has the following exchange with the comedian, as related by Bruce: So the guy stops, you know and all of a sudden he looks at me and I see sort of a searching hope in his eyes and he looks at me and he goes [in a hushed voice]: You Jewish?.. .1 say: Yeah. He says: You a Jewish boy, what are you doing in a place like this? I say [in a matter-of-fact voice]: I'm passing.47 Bruce's brief phrase—I'm passing—constitutes a double entendre, encompassing both the performer passing through a town he cannot wait to exit and the Jew passing as white in middle America.48 Bruce exhibits distaste for both Lima and the process of passing. The joke's tension reverberates with Bruce's discordant relationship to ethnicity. On the one hand, he makes Jewishness a status symbol, wedded to his urban hipness. On the other hand, he exhibits a significant discomfort with mainstream American Jews. The butt of the joke shifts from the bland (and white) middle American to the Jewish patron who wants to bond with Bruce over their shared religious roots. This man becomes an object of ridicule, an accented outsider whose IIbid' The Essential Lenny Bruce considers the show business aspects of the routine more significant than any ethnic considerations and thus files the bit under "On Performing and the Art of Comedy" rather than "Jews." 24 wife is a "real yentcT only noticeable due to her lack of beauty: "she's got one of those crinkly dresses, you know, the kind you can see through and you don't wanna."m The source of Bruce's disgust is unclear. Does it lie in the older Jews' abandonment of urbanity in favor of the provinces? Is it generational, the embarrassment of the son who can pass for white when he realizes that his parents' generation cannot? The recording from Bruce's delivery of this routine circa 1959 at the Den in New York City lets us know that the audience did indeed laugh, but the response rings less like the guttural laugh of those who have shared similar experiences than the knowing laugh of a crowd which recognizes an inside joke and fears being left on the outside. Their laughter confirms their hipness even while affirming the centrality of Bruce's identity crisis, and existential quandaries power stand-up comedy. The comic requires a live audience in order to create the act and Bruce simultaneously forms his own audience, educating them on the ways of performance and Judaism, even while being shaped by them and their confirmatory laughter. An early example of stand-up comedy as a site for the exploration of personal and social identity, "Lima, Ohio" epitomizes Bruce's negotiation with his own Jewishness. Introducing a dynamic that would become a major mode of operation for stand-up comedy, Bruce posits ethnicity as a performative process which deserves to operate openly in the public realm. Imitating Others: Bruce's Vaudevillian Origins Prior to Lenny Bruce, ethnic comics in the United States tended towards assimilation when playing in front of mainstream audiences—that is, when not playing 49 Bruce, Lenny Bruce: Let the Buyer Beware. 25 to audiences primarily constituted by others sharing the entertainer's cultural background. Jewish comedians had been prevalent in American entertainment since the turn of the twentieth century, but prominent Jewish vaudevillians such as Benjamin Kubelsky, Nathan Birnbaum, and Milton Berlinger were compelled to present themselves as the more Anglo-Saxon-sounding Jack Benny, George Burns, and Milton Berle. Furthermore, their stage personas rarely foregrounded Judaism as either a religion or an ethnicity. That is why it comes as no surprise when the Museum of Broadcast Communications claims that the Jack Benny character which "he and his writers sustained on the airwaves for four decades had no ethnicity or religion."5" This tradition of disguise and the evasion of ethnic fixity was the one in which Bruce himself grew up and began his career. Starting out in the last days of vaudeville after World War Two, "Lenny Bruce" was, after all, the show business role created by the erstwhile Leonard Schneider. Considering that he would come to fashion much of his professional material from the substance of his personal life, the biographical details of Bruce's pre-fame days are remarkably hazy. We know that he was born on October 13, 1925 in Mineola, Long Island, and that his parents divorced when he was five. It appears that Bruce grew up an only child in relative suburban comfort, given the constraints of the Great Depression. His father, Myron (Mickey) Schneider, was a podiatrist born in Britain, characterized by principal biographer Albert Goldman as a caring if occasionally cold father who raised Lenny on his own.51 Sadie Kitchenberg, on the other hand, comes 50 Tinky Weisblat, "Benny, Jack," The Museum of Broadcast Communications, http://www.museum.tv/archives/etv/B/htmlB/bennyjack/bennyjack.htm. 51 Albert Goldman, Ladies and Gentlemen—Lenny Bruce!! (New York: Random House, 1974). 26 across as a neglectful mother unable to take care of Bruce for more than one or two weeks at a time. At one point, her negligence reportedly required Mickey and his new fiancee, Dorothy Cohen, to come and rescue an unwashed and neglected Bruce from Kitchenberg's home. Bruce himself tells a very different tale. His own autobiography does not mention either his childhood or father in depth, stating that Schneider tended to be absent, working during the day and going to college at night, while Kitchenberg worked as a waitress and a maid in Long Beach, Long Island.52 More significantly, Kitchenberg's forays into a variety of professions included many connected to the entertainment industry, most notably her stints as dancer and dance instructor. As was the tradition, she adopted a less ethnic-sounding stage name (Sally Marr) and was by all accounts the initial inspiration behind Bruce's career. As a stage mother, Marr led by example, sharing an association with the ribald with her son from an early age. Gerald Nachman writes that Marr took the twelve-year-old Bruce along with her to gigs at burlesque houses, where she worked as an emcee.53 Marr was at ease with the world of show business in a way that Bruce never was. Much of his originality resided in the manner by which he uses discomfort to propel his performance. Bruce began his own attempts to break into mainstream vaudeville in the late 1940s. He displayed no indication of wanting to change the face of American comedy or engage in any rebellion grander than that of drinking heavily and sleeping around. Goldman has Bruce discharged from the U.S. Navy in 1945; following his father West to Arcadia, California; utilizing the G.I. Bill to take classes at the Geller Dramatic 52 53 Lenny Bruce, How to Talk Dirty and Influence People (Simon & Schuster, 1992), 8. Nachman, Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s, 398. 27 Workshop in Hollywood; and then deciding to move back to the East and try for fame on the Broadway stage. In New York, Bruce competed against hundreds of other young men in a drama contest, winning a prize for "a comical rendering of a Hamlet soliloquy," and finding work in rigged amateur contests through his mother's agent, Buddy Friar.54 Writing in his autobiography about his debut, Bruce portrays himself as an accidental comedian, thrust into the spotlight while performing under a false identity. In 1947, Marr was performing as part of a dance team at the Victory Club in Ocean Parkway, Brooklyn.55 When the regular master of ceremonies failed to show and Marr declined the job in fright, the twenty-year-old Bruce volunteered for the job. According to Bruce, he was introduced as "Lenny Marsalle, a famous comic in his own right...in town to do the Ed Sullivan Show."56 Bruce is most likely dramatizing the story. It's particularly unlikely that Marr would have declined the emcee job out of shyness, given that she had also worked as a comedienne and was reputed to be fearless in public and in private. Regardless, Bruce writes that he confronted hecklers and then got hooked on the very first laugh he procured, deriving satisfaction out of wresting acceptance from an initially hostile audience. This was a struggle which Bruce would repeat throughout his career in stand-up, with varying degrees of success. Bruce's first hint of commercial success came in 1948 on the television show Arthur Godfrey's Talent Scouts. Talent Scouts featured unknown entertainers 54 Goldman, Ladies and Gentlemen—Lenny Bruce!! ,116. How to Talk Dirty and Influence People does not date this incident. Bruce's daughter Kitty runs a web site which lists the year as 1947. "The Official Lenny Bruce Website: The Only Website Approved by Lenny Bruce's Daughter Kitty," http://www.lennybruceofficial.com/. 56 Bruce, How to Talk Dirty and Influence People, 28. 55 28 competing for the audience's favor, a precursor to today's game shows in disguise, the so-called "reality shows."57 At this point, Bruce was mainly an impressionist, which ranked low on the hierarchy of comedians. Stand-up would eventually merge both the meta presentation of self and the joke-telling, but here the presentation of self remains present mainly as a framing device. Bruce is introduced to the audience, but there's no expectation that his material will be based on facts from his personal life. In any case, the information dispensed in the introduction is artifice. Bruce posed as a more experienced performer than he actually was, and the "talent scout" who brought Bruce to Godfrey's attention was none other than Sally Marr. Marr was clearly in on the manufactured nature of the amateur show; Robert B. Weide's 1998 documentary Lenny Bruce: Swear to Tell the Truth shows her laughing and mouthing "lies, lies, lies" while listening to her old introduction extolling her son's show business background.58 Bruce's impressions were of film stars such as James Cagney, Peter Lorre, and Bette Davis. That someone attempting success as a live performer chose to idolize the movies reflected the ongoing ascendance of Hollywood. Vaudeville had come to prominence in the United States in the 1880s as family entertainment, forbidding coarse language on-stage and frequently prohibiting alcohol sales to the audience. The entertainment consisted of an assortment of smaller acts performing on the same bill, with entrants including acrobats, animal acts, comedians, dancers, magicians, mimes, 57 1 am referring to shows such as Survivor (CBS, 2000-) and American Idol (Fox, 2002-). Twenty-first century production values are higher, but the blueprint remains the same. A second strand of reality shows along the lines of The Osbournes (MTV, 2002-5) and The Hills (MTV, 2006-) are semi-scripted faux documentaries which play off of a similar juxtaposition of private and public personalities explored by stand-up comedy. 58 Robert B. Weide, Lenny Bruce: Swear to Tell the Truth, 1998. 29 minstrels, musicians, singers, and ventriloquists. By the time Bruce entered show business, the electronic mass media had hit vaudeville in several waves, first in the form of cinema (incorporated in vaudeville by the late 1920s), followed by radio, and then by television. In November 1932, New York City's famous Palace Theatre converted from vaudeville to a film-only establishment. Their audiences reduced, live comedians sought work at nightclubs, in burlesque, and in other media. Bruce acknowledges vaudeville's decline in his set-up. After an obligatory "Good evening, everyone," the first words out of his mouth consist of an attempt to spin the rise of mass electronic entertainment into a positive: Bruce proclaims how "It's great to see that television is coming in so strong in vaudeville."59 {Talent Scouts itself had just transitioned onto television.) We know that Bruce's choice of subjects wasn't forced by the forum, because his fascination with film images and their blend of character and caricature would continue throughout his comedy career. His autobiography states that Bruce went to "Hollywood High" as "the motion picture industry [was] the strongest environmental factor in molding the children of [his] day."60 While his art depended upon the immediate energy and feedback of a live audience, it could never be divorced from the mass media. On the contrary, it suggests that stark liveness of the stand-up comic arose against a backdrop of increased mediatization, particularly in the proliferation of television. Intriguingly, Bruce introduces the concept of impressionism as if he were not one himself, launching into the routine after first saying "You know, the action I get the biggest kick out of are the impersonators. I love it when they come out and 59 60 Bruce, Lenny Bruce: Let the Buyer Beware. "Lenny on Arthur Godfrey's Talent Scouts." , How to Talk Dirty and Influence People, 7. 30 say...."61 The power stemmed less from the accuracy (or lack thereof) than from his creation of a meta-narrative. Rather than providing his audience with carbon copies, he gestures towards the operating principles behind the characters played by each Hollywood star—e.g., that Cagney plays mobsters known more for toughness than for thinking, while Loire's characters are ruled by their desperation and distinctive accent. His choices of subject are uninspired; a common refrain among comedians of the time was "When in trouble, do Cagney."62 His technical mimicry skills are merely adequate, and the witticisms themselves are weak; a typical line of attack has Bruce, as Loire, pleading: "Please, get out of here! I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!!! [Pause] And besides that, I don't like you."63 Without noting it, Bruce has become an impersonator of impersonators. As a mimic of mimics, Bruce's main effect is not the illustration of physical or verbal similarities to the film characters, but a revelation of the process of imitation itself. Bruce does this by interrupting his mimicry to tell the audience that when he was in the Navy in Bavaria, he used to go to a local Bavarian vaudeville house: "And the act that I got the biggest kick out of was the Bavarian Mimic!"64 In Revel with a Cause, Stephen Kercher writes that Bruce's "winning performance" comes due to "his impressions of a Bavarian Humphrey Bogart and Peter Loire," but it is more accurate to say that Bruce is actually imitating a Bavarian impressionist.65 In this guise, Bruce revisits his initial impressions, using mock-German to play off of Germany's 61 , Lenny Bruce: Let the Buyer Beware. Phil Berger, The Last Laugh: The World of the Stand-up Comics (New York: Limelight Editions, 1985), 25. 3 Bruce, Lenny Bruce: Let the Buyer Beware. 64 Ibid. Stephen E. Kercher, Revel with a Cause: Liberal Satire in Postwar America (Chicago & London: The University of Chicago Press, 2006), 398. 62 31 subordinate status in matters military and cultural and makes strange66 the impressionist's process of isolating catch phrases and patterns of speech. The mimicry is multi-layered, with Bruce presenting a Bavarian mimic who mangles English while mocking the strong German accent of Lorre, himself born in Austro-Hungary. Bruce surveys the image-making apparatus of entertainment. He does this from within, as an entertainer imitating other entertainers. He also mocks it from a remove, his Bavarian mimic both mocking the defeated Germans and, largely due to his clumsiness at impersonation, demonstrating the ludicrous nature of comedy. This foreshadows his later critiques of American society and remains a predominant approach of stand-up comics. (Comedy Central's The Daily Show increasingly popularized this approach on television once the stand-up comedian Jon Stewart became its host in 1999.) Bruce is again making strange—not just ridiculing the foreigner, but parodying how one performs the Other, which he needs in order to talk about himself. Often inadvertently, Bruce's constant commentary about the performative process comprises steps toward undermining the fixed nature of stereotypes. Homi Bhabha advises just that when he writes that "the point of intervention should shift from the identification of images as positive or negative, to an understanding of the processes of subjectification made possible (and plausible) through stereotypical My use of this term invokes Viktor Shklovsky's ostranenie, the argument that "[t]he technique of art is to make objects 'unfamiliar,' to make forms difficult, to increase the difficulty and length of perception because the process of perception is an aesthetic end in itself and must be prolonged." I do not intend to suggest that Bruce was aware of Shklovsky's work. Viktor Shklovsky, "Art as Technique," in Literary Theory: An Anthology, ed. Julie Rivkin and Michael Ryan (Maiden; Oxford; Carlton: Wiley-Blackwell, 2004), 16. 32 discourse." That is, it matters less whether or not Bruce creates progressive or regressive representations, but what those representations reveal about the subjectmaking process. Emphasizing the processes of subjectification becomes one of standup strengths. It may be that working as an impressionist early on gave Bruce an extra layer of presentation behind which to conceal his personal life, diametrically opposed to the process of unveiling which would become endemic to stand-up comedy. The former approach may have helped protect his budding comedy skills at a time when he still relied on cribbed material. Goldman writes that the Godfrey "bit was a variation on a variation, adapted from Red Buttons's6S routine called The Jewish Mimic. Red actually complained to mimic Will Jordan that Lenny's German was his Yiddish."69 Bruce's dialect comedy may have also been a nod to the talents of Sid Caesar,70 whom Bruce had seen while ushering at New York's Roxy Theater. Some critics feel he was actually impersonating his "burlesque-comedian mother's routine—virtually the same act that Sally Marr did in a 1942 USO show for sailors (with seventeen-year-old Lenny sitting among the uniformed members of the audience)."71 While Bruce's motivation for performing had much to do with his mother, she displayed none of the ironic commentary that constituted the core of his act, and the reality is that comics in the era of vaudeville routinely appropriated each other's material. 67 Homi Bhabha, "The Other Question...Homi K Bhabha Reconsiders the Stereotype and Colonial Discourse," Screen: the journal of the Society for Education in Film and Television 24, no. 6 (1983): 18. 68 Bruce's appearance on Arthur Godfrey's Talent Scouts came after Buttons (who was born Aaron Chwatt) succeeded in the Borscht Belt and on Broadway, but before Buttons became known on television and in film. 69 Goldman, Ladies and Gentlemen—Lenny Bruce!!, 124. 70 Sid Caesar's Your Show of Shows debuted on NBC two years later, running 1950-1954. 71 Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 15. 33 Authorship of jokes was of lesser concern prior to the stand-up era Bruce helped inaugurate. Indeed, stand-up's emphasis on the unique world views of individual performers can be used to discriminate stand-up as its own performance structure. Milton Berle was dubbed the "Thief of Bad Gags" by columnist Walter Winchell and incorporated this reputation into his act with lines such as his high praise for a fellow comedian: "I laughed so hard I nearly dropped my pencil and paper."'72 Top acts regularly bought jokes, and Phil Berger writes of a "British comic who got hold of Bob Orben's one-liners from the States [and] was known to deliver them in England precisely the way they were written—even leaving references like Brooklyn and Jackson Heights in."73 As stand-up Ralphie May74 explains it: Everybody was doing it to a degree. Even Buddy Hackett said, oh, yeah, if I were someplace and I had to do a joke and I know that, you know, somebody else had one that fit, I would do it but I would call him and say, hi, I used your joke, you killed in Pittsburgh. You know, you got to, you know—and he would tell them, hey, you can do any of my jokes and stuff like that.75 Hackett puts a congenial face on a common practice, but embedded in his account and Berle's defensiveness is the acknowledgement that there was a code of conduct surrounding the appropriation of someone else's joke, and that it was proper etiquette to keep the original author informed and receive nominal approval. The challenge became how well one could perform the material. Today's accusations of joke thievery against comics Robin Williams and Carlos Mencia76 are taken much more Lawrence Van Gelder, "Milton Berle, TV's First Star as 'Uncle Miltie,' Dies at 93," The New York Times, March 28,. 73 Berger, The Last Laugh: The World of the Stand-up Comics, 33. 74 Born 1972. 75 "Joke Stealing is No Laughing Matter, Comedians Say." Talk of the Nation. National Public Radio: November 8, 2007. 76 NB Larry Getlen, "Take the Funny and Run," Radar, February 2, 2007. 34 seriously, in large part due to the emphasis on originality introduced by Mort Sahl in the mid 1950s and before Bruce helped make one's personal history and particular cultural background the central playing field for stand-up comedy. Judging the early Bruce harshly on originality is to apply retroactively standards he helped create later in his career. The path towards stand-up comedy as a construction of originality was not premeditated. Bruce, like his mother, prized success in the entertainment industry over any particular platform or agenda. The means were secondary, even though Bruce was to become famous precisely because of his stylistic innovations. He was marked more by his persistence than any particular aptitude, and attempted both singing and comedy as he cultivated the image of the professional entertainer. In 1950, when he met his future wife, the stripper Honey Harlow, her first impression was that "he was sort of Mr. Show Business, with the Max Factor pancake tan No. 2, and the tuxedo, and the tuxedo shirt, and one of those bows that tie beneath the collar."77 The make-up and tuxedo was 180 degrees removed from the casual dress of stand-up comics, with its hard-won air of intimacy. Bruce was trying to fit into vaudeville, not upend it. The distancing effect of his impressions was not consciously constructed, and it looked like he might succeed on their terms, as his first place Talent Scouts finish78 provided suitable fodder for marquees and brought him better bookings. After marrying in 1951, Bruce and Harlow began working as a duo. According to Harlow, "He was the comic, I was the singer. Actually, in those days he was more an impressionist than a comic. He would do fifteen minutes of Leo Gorcey, Jimmy 77 78 Quoted in Goldman, Ladies and Gentlemen—Lenny Bruce!!, 67. Bruce tied for first place with vocalist John Connolly. 35 Cagney, and Peter Loire: then he'd go to his singing impressions of Vaughn Monroe, Billy Eckstein, and Maurice Chevalier, complete with the straw hat!"79 Bruce tackled key cultural images but the effect was benign because he lacked the technical chops to make the mimicry memorable and because the icons he engaged were too well-known and well-traversed to make for cutting humor without commentary. When it came to performing the role of professional comedian, Bruce was marginally successful and seemed destined to be kept away from the main stages, relegated to minor gigs and less respected establishments. All of this began to change in the mid-1950s as a new wave of comedians, led by Mort Sahl, began to accrue the license to play themselves on stage. Jewish American Humor and Assimilation As mentioned in my introduction, Sahl distanced himself from his Jewishness, perhaps with cause, considering that stand-up arose in a risky era for dissent. In the years of the House Un-American Activities Committee, most notably from the late 1940s to the late 1950s, Congress scrutinized Jews in entertainment as possible subversives. Speaking about the signatures against the inquiry in 1947, Mississippi Representative John Rankin implied that assimilation was a cover for Communist sympathies: One of the names is June Havoc. We found out from the motion picture almanac that her real name is June Hovick. Another one was Danny Kaye, and we found out that his real name is David Daniel Kaminsky... .Another one is Eddie Cantor, whose real name is Edward 79 Honey Bruce, Honey: The Life and Loves of Lenny's Shady Lady (Chicago, Illinois: Playboy Press, 1976). 36 Iskowitz... .They are attacking the Committee for doing its duty to protect this country and save the American people from the horrible fate the Communists have meted out to the unfortunate Christian people of Europe.80 Rankin's harangue attests how performance, which was a path towards mainstream acceptance for American Jews, was also a double-edged sword. On the one hand, the very moves made to mimic the dominant Christian culture, which included changing one's given name, became evidence of duplicity. On the other hand, any working class consciousness born out of Jewish experiences as a minority became signs of antiAmerican sympathies. Of course, attenuating the significance of one's ethnicity is a common survival technique for minorities attempting to achieve success amongst a broad public, particularly in the field of entertainment. When, in 1961, the Jewish writer-performer Carl Reiner created a sitcom based on his days writing for Sid Caesar's Your Show of Shows, the character based on Reiner was named "Rob Petrie" and played by the decidedly non-ethnic Dick Van Dyke. As late as 1989, NBC executive Brandon Tartikoff nearly rejected the subsequent mega-hit sitcom Seinfeld because he deemed it "too Jewish."81 One can retrospectively critique Tartikoff, who is himself Jewish, for underestimating the American audience, but it is frequently the minority subject who is most sensitive to the prejudices of the majority culture. Michael Korda expounds on the typical business climate for Jews in the 1950s, describing how publishing "was being run, for the most part, by men in suits or 80 Quoted in Stefan Kanfer, A Summer World: The Attempt to Build a Jewish Eden in the Catskills, from the Days of the Ghetto to the Rise and Decline of the Borscht Belt (New York: Farrar Straus Giroux, 1989), 202. 81 Jake Tapper, "Too Jewish?," Salon.com, August 9, 2000. 37 donnish tweeds, with pipes, who were either Ivy League WASPs or Jews whose highest ambition was to be mistaken for WASPs."82 Norman Kleeblatt echoes this depiction, articulating his belief that "[t]he Jewish community thus achieved visible success while its individual members were becoming invisible." That is, Jews could gain entrance into the mainstream by suppressing their religious and ethnic heritage. Mort Sahl exemplified the Jewish American who became famous as an individual, but was mostly read as unconnected to ethnicity. Assimilation was not totalizing and mainstream audiences were often aware of the Jewish background of prominent comedians, whose roots could not be completely whitewashed, so to speak. Goldman's biography claims that Rodney Dangerfield mocked Bruce's stage name, opining that "All you guys who try to get away from . being Jewish by changing your last name always give away the secret by forgetting to change your first name. What kinda goy has a first name Lenny?"83 (Dangerfield's own birth name was Jacob Cohen.) The larger project of amalgamating with a dominant white society required ethnic references to be implicit rather than explicit. A partial performance of assimilation was sufficient because the audience played along, accepting the alliance of Jews with whiteness while maintaining unspoken Jewish stereotypes. Jack Benny's radio character may have lacked overt ethnic markers, but the running joke concerning his supposed tightfistedness has to be read as a variation on the stereotype of Jewish thrift. The most famous Benny exchange has him respond to a mugger's pronouncement of "Your money or your life!" with a lengthy silence, 82 Michael Korda, The New Yorker, August 14, 1994. Goldman, Ladies and Gentlemen—Lenny Bruce!!, 45. No date is given for these comments, which are attributed to "Jack Roy," a stage name employed by Cohen before his later adoption of the name Rodney Dangerfield. 83 38 followed by: "I'm thinking it over."84 Not coincidentally, Milton Berle's rapid fall from his initial heady days as "Mr. Television" coincided with the spread of television away from its original base in ethnically diverse cities. There was a split between the insider humor of the Catskills and the integrated urban climes of the nightclub audiences in San Francisco, New York and Chicago. As Kanfer puts it, Urban audiences tended to be young and impatient with mother jokes. They wanted hip comedy, with its ring of recognition and its use of the absurd and outrageous—material popularized by the new favorite Lenny Bruce. (Few of his enthusiasts knew that Bruce himself had tried to be funny in the Mountains. The only amusement he ever recalled from those failed summers was the words of his mother, Sally. As she watched her son climbing into a car headed west, she thought of the girls in the Catskills. 'Make sure my son gets some,' she told the driver.) For traditional stand-up comedians that left only one place to learn their craft: the Borscht Belt.85 Strictly speaking, traditional vaudevillian comedians were not stand-ups in the sense of belonging to the movement launched by Sahl and Bruce which gave rise to the label. Off the main stage, insider jokes about Jews were openly told by Jews to majority Jewish audiences in places such as the Borscht Belt. Humor often revolved around the topic of assimilation. According to Stefan Kanfer's book on the Catskills, professional comedy in those Jewish resorts began with the story of the Americanized Jew—in this case, Sam the peddler, who speaks only English and has unlearned German—and continued always with "the striving for acceptance even at the cost of Joe Garner, Made You Laugh: The Funniest Moments in Comedy (U.S.A.: Andrews McMeel Publishing, 2004), 10. Kanfer, A Summer World: The Attempt to Build a Jewish Eden in the Catskills, from the Days of the Ghetto to the Rise and Decline of the Borscht Belt, 228. 39 identity; the account of dizzying ascent coupled with a mockery of the climber."86 Self-critique abounded, as in the joking about a competition between progressive Jews in which the Jew who announces "At Yom Kippur we serve.. .ham sandwiches" is topped by the Jew who states that "We are so progressive that we are closed on the High Holy Days."87 There is also the little girl who asks her mother, "Mommy, do the Gentiles have Christmas trees, too?"88 The humor expresses acute anxiety over the dominant culture and the threat of the erosion of their subaltern culture. The brashness with which they spoke behind closed doors contrasted heavily with the absence of Jewish referents once the comedians played before integrated audiences. Did this censorious Catskills comedy indicate any strand of self-hatred in Jewish American humor? Such thinking matches the speculation by Sigmund Freud on the connection between Jews and jokes, made in the early twentieth century. John Carey, in his introduction to Freud's The Joke and Its Relation to the Unconscious, notes that "Jokes about Jews were, in a sense, the origin of Freud's book" and that these jokes "represent Jews as filthy and parsimonious."89 Freud himself theorizes that "these pessimistic stories [allude to] the manifold and hopeless misery of the Jews," and therefore humor becomes a survival mechanism for a minority living among an often hostile majority.90 It comes as no surprise that Freud posits a psychoanalytic cause for the cause and content of a subgroup's humor. Whether or not one accepts the specifics of Freud's assessment of Austrian and German Jewish humor, he makes a 86 Ibid., 30. Ibid., 108. 88 Ibid. 89 John Carey, "Introduction," in The Joke and Its Relation to the Unconscious (2002), xxv. 90 Sigmund Freud, The Joke and Its Relation to the Unconscious, trans. Joyce Crick (United States of America: Penguin Books (U.K.), 2002), 109. 87 40 case in favor of the examination of humor in order to understand cultures and their interactions. Dan Ben-Amos disagrees with this now common opinion that Jewish humor is a unique entity and that it tends towards the self-critical. Ben-Amos argues that joking in Jewish society does not involve mocking of self either directly or indirectly. Rather, invariably the object of ridicule is a group with which the raconteur disassociates himself. Joke-telling is a verbal expression which manifests social differentiation. The fact that Jews tell jokes about each other demonstrates not so much self-hatred as perhaps the internal segmentation of their society.91 That is, the negative jokes are not about one's own Jewishness, but that of other people such as rabbis, whose status as authority figure is more important than their categorization as Jews. Ben-Amos correctly cautions us against over-emphasizing the uniqueness of Jewish humor, but his conclusions give short shrift to the power of metaphor. Is it not possible that the mother asked about Christmas trees by her child stands in for other Jewish parents? Ben-Amos sees a progressive possibility in Jewish humor about Jews, stating that: "[t]his Jewish party jester did not display hatred for his own characteristics, but his ability to disassociate himself from his traditional past. For him, mocking was a proclamation of social distance rather than affinity, of sadism, if you like, rather than masochism."92 In this sense, Bruce's mockery of an Jewish generation in "Lima, Ohio," aligns himself with the assimilated audience and against his ancestors. BenAmos, however, fails to acknowledge that one's history is part of one's self. It is not a large leap to say that a critique of one's family history of assimilation can be a 91 92 Dan Ben-Amos, "The "Myth" Of Jewish Humor," Western Folklore 32, no. 2 (1973): 129. Ibid.: 130. 41 questioning of one's own identity. When Bruce exaggerates the Jewish accents of his older relatives into his act, he teases, but he also acknowledges their story as his own. Ben-Amos accurately ascertains, however, that the fundamental operating principles of humor do not change in the Jewish world. When Freud's former student Theodor Reik states, in his book Jewish Wit, that Jewish humor adds up to "a singular ability of self-assertion and self-preservation in spite of an overwhelming world of identities," he is basically stating that the values he perceives in the Jewish people also inhabit their humor. n Every ethnic group has a unique history; American Jews are not alone in having their humor reflect their narrative. The particulars of humor reflect their context and this context, in turn, changes the meaning and intent of the humor. Stand-up comedy points out that one must always ask: Who is the speaker? And to whom is he or she speaking? Outing Ethnicity: Bruce's Overt Jewishness The late 1950s saw some expansion of the open discussion of Jewishness, both worldwide and in the United States. The most prominent example may be The Diary of Anne Frank, published in 1952, with a dramatization that debuted near the end of 1955. Nonetheless, the 1959 film emblematized a continued resistance to the crucial ethnic specificity of the narrative. According to Cynthia Ozick, the movie "erased nearly all particular Jewish references in favor of more generic, universal ones, thus erasing the true meaning of the diary."94 In the world of humor, Shelley Berman's 93 94 Theodor Reik, Jewish Wit (New York City: Gamut Press, 1962), 242. Cynthia Ozick, "Who Owns Anne Frank?," The New Yorker, October 6, 1997, 76. 42 1959 album Inside Shelly Berman, which references his Jewish upbringing, won the first spoken word Best Comedy Album at the 1960 Grammys. The story spun by Berman, however, is the decidedly assimilationist tale of the the immigrant's son leaving his parents to make it big in entertainment, where he abandons the ways of the old world. It is basically the same story as The Jazz Singer (1927) in which one's ethnic roots are referenced as evidence of what is left behind as the Jewish entertainer heads into the realm of mainstream acceptance, into whiteness. In comparison to other representations of Jews in popular culture, Bruce's Jewishness became particularly aggressive. He developed this provocative style in the mid-1950s while working in the relatively permissive forums of burlesque and minor night clubs, as described further in Chapter Two. Rejecting the assimilationist tendencies of his vaudevillian forbears, Bruce chose to portray his Jewishness as a challenge to his audience and a subject not to be ignored. One of Bruce's most famous bits was "Jewish vs. Goyish," an adversarial routine in which every item and idea in the world can be categorized as either Jewish or Not Jewish. Bruce placed Jewishness at the center of a world in which ethnicity comes to signify authenticity, while nonJews (that is, gentiles) become defined by artificial products such as Kool-Aid, white bread, and instant potatoes. The label "Goyish" becomes a way of reconfiguring race and ethnicity. Dig: I'm Jewish. Count Basie's Jewish. Ray Charles is Jewish. Eddie Cantor's goyish. B'Nai Brith is goyish; Hadassah, Jewish. Marine corps—heavy goyim, dangerous. Koolaid is goyish. All Drake's Cakes are goyish. Pumpernickel is Jewish, and, as you know, white bread is very goyish. Instant potatoes—goyish. Black cherry soda's very Jewish, Macaroons are very Jewish—very Jewish cake. Fruit salad is Jewish. 43 Lime jello is goyish. Lime soda is very goyish. Trailer parks are so goyish that Jews won't go near them.95 Bruce marks and exposes whiteness here, posing it as inauthentic and rootless as he does Lima, Ohio. In Bruce's world, even though ethnicity is performative, to perform with authenticity meant accepting one's heritage. Therefore, he separates Jewishness from whiteness, reversing assimilation so that the more mainstream B'Nai Brith is cast out of Jewishness into whiteness while the explicitly Zionist Hadassah remains Jewish. Bruce not only claims his ethnicity, but boldly confronts the most dire negative associations and images ascribed to it. This includes the age-old accusations that Jews were the original anti-Christians: Now I'll say 'a Jew' and just the word Jew sounds like a dirty word, and people don't know whether to laugh or not... .So there's just silence until they know I'm kidding, and then they'll break through. A Jew. In the dictionary, a Jew is one who is descended from the ancient tribe of Judea, but—I'll say to an audience—you and I know what a Jew is: one who killed our Lord. Now there's dead silence there after that.% Bruce accepts the slur and then makes it ridiculous by making the grand claim mundane, telling his audiences that yes, his family had killed Christ, and he found a note in [my] basement. It said: "We killed him. signed, Morty."97 Having drawn in the audience, Bruce then amplifies the aggression, doubling the slur, stating "Not only did we kill him, but we're gonna kill him again when he comes Bruce, The Essential Lenny Bruce., 41 -42. , How to Talk Dirty and Influence People, 155. , The Essential Lenny Bruce., 40. 44 back."98 Sander Gilman construes stereotypes as images created in anxious response to the perceived threat of the Other." By simultaneously ridiculing and inhabiting the stereotype, Bruce became threatening, and deploys stand-up comedy as a means by which the stereotyped can challenge widely disseminated images and attempt to reshape them by creating a new site of cultural production. Bruce would have been a controversial enough figure had he only addressed Jewishness, but he also addressed other religions. One of his favorite line of attacks was to impugn the economic motivations of religious institutions and their leaders. In one bit Bruce proclaims that the Catholic church was like Howard Johnson's, dispensing franchises around the world, which could be locally adapted and controlled so long as they "pay the bread to the main office."100 One of his most-requested routines was the infamous "Religions, Inc.," which was the last track on the 1958 album The Sick Humor of Lenny Bruce. Bruce again takes aim at what he perceives to be the hypocrisy of religious leaders by equating them with marketing executives, for whom economics matter more than ethics and religions can be assessed like stocks. "Religions, Inc." is harder-hitting, however, because Bruce embodies the Christians, portraying the evangelist Oral Roberts crassly talking up his religious practice, then enacting a call between Roberts and the Pope. Given the severity with which Bruce's comedy judged the establishment, it is unsurprising that mainstream bastions, such as television's The Ed Sullivan Show, declined to allow Bruce a forum. He did make a couple of appearances on The Steve , How to Talk Dirty and Influence People, 155. Sander L. Gilman, Difference and Pathology: Stereotypes of Sexuality, Race, and Madness (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1985). Bruce, The Essential Lenny Bruce., 54. 45 Allen Show because Allen was a big fan and a bit of an iconoclast, but even there the network censors were worried about how Bruce would perform—would he dare to improvise?—and what he would talk about. Allen's introduction for the comedian was basically an extended warning to the viewing audience: there is just about no joke or sketch, particularly of a satirical sort, that will not offend somebody. ... We've decided that once a month we will book a comedian who will offend everybody. ... A man who will disturb a great many social groups watching right now, because—as I'm serious—his satirical comments refer to many things not ordinarily discussed on television... a very shocking comedian, the most shocking comedian of our time, a young man who is skyrocketing to fame— Lenny Bruce!101 By seeking to calm the audience ahead of time, Allen also stokes the excitement level and raises expectations for Bruce's ribaldry. He speaks in favor of the comedian's license to test taboos, while simultaneously covering himself in case Bruce does go beyond the pale. Bruce did indeed veer off-topic at the very top of his routine, briefly tapping into the improvisatory capacity of stand-up comedy and demonstrate the potential danger he posed to the mass medium of television. Film star Elizabeth Taylor had wed the (Jewish) singer Eddie Fisher the month before, causing a tabloid uproar because Fisher divorced his first wife, Debbie Reynolds, in order to marry the recently widowed Taylor. Bruce sits on a stool, looks around mischievously, and in a newsman's voice asks, "Will Elizabeth Taylor become Bar Mitzvahed?"102 Bruce then gestures off-camera, pointing and smiling in Allen's direction as if to say "gotcha." Bruce was testing the boundaries of ethnic humor on network television. On this 101 The Steve Allen Show. April 5, 1959. 46 occasion, he stepped up to the line but apparently did not cross over. Audio of the exchange reveals that an off-stage voice (probably Allen) responds to Bruce, who quickly gets back in line, averring "No, I promised continuity103 I'd behave myself. I'll do all the lines that we rehearsed."104 As a form, stand-up encourages variation, and there is no private rehearsal, only repeated performance in front of a live audience. Recorded live, Bruce's 1959 album Togetherness contains a track detailing the comedian's behind-the-scenes tussle with network censors. Bruce was already chafing at the requirement to preview his material, which cut against his attachment to artistic freedom as well as stand-up comedy's promise of spontaneity, which is often fulfilled through the depiction of improvisation rather than an engagement in actual extemporization. Forced to preview his jokes word-for-word and in order of intended performance, Bruce encountered resistance to a routine about a tattoo he acquired when in the Merchant Marines. Once again presenting to his audience (in the club) a performance he gave to another (the network censors), Bruce explains: I've got a tattoo here. It's not a cockamamie105 or anything, it doesn't rub off. Because of this tattoo, I never can be buried in a Jewish cemetery. That's the Orthodox scene. You have to go out of the world in the way you came in, no marks, no changes.. .1 got back from Malta. So I'm over my aunt's house in Jamaica, Long Island.... she looks and she flips, you know. She: 'Faaaa. Faaaaahhh.' She's a real Jewish Seagull. 'Look what you did! You ruined your arm! You can't be buried in a Jewish cemetery.' I says, 'Mema, what are you nudging me? They'll cut this [arm] off, they'll bury it in a gentile cemetery.'106 103 The internal network censors. The Steve Allen Show. 105 Cockamamies were "painted strips of paper which the kids applied to their wrists and rubbed with spit until the image was transferred to their hands." "Cockamamie, N. And A.," The Oxford English Dictionary, Oxford University Press, http://dictionary.oed.com/cgi/entry/50042757. 106 Lenny Bruce, Togetherness (1959). 104 47 The joke is a comical exchange without an obvious target. Is Bruce showing off his insider status when it comes to the Merchant Marines or his religion? Is he mocking his aunt? The Orthodox Jewish concerns about bodily purity? All of the above? The television executives proffer a conclusion without an explanation, declaring to Bruce that the routine is "definitely offensive to the Jewish people."107 Having made a decision, they then have to backwards engineer a reasoning, which provides the punch line to Bruce's re-telling of the encounter, when he is informed that "it's definitely offensive to the gentile people, too [because] what you're saying in essence, is that the gentiles don't care what they bury."10" It's typical of the counterattacks on Bruce that the underlying motivations remain unexpressed as the establishment searches to articulate why he cannot openly discuss issues of ethnicity or other forms of non-normativity. Television in the 1950s did have ethnic jokes, but they tended to be widely accepted generic stereotypes such as Sid Caesar's doubletalking German general109 or extremely broad such as the following Bob Hope quip made on St. Patrick's Day: "Right now there are nothing but Irish tunes on the radio and it's all very democratic. I heard one announcer say today 'And now Pat O'Reilly and his Four Shamrocks play "Irish Eyes." But first a word from our sponsor, Manischevitz wine.'"110 Such humor did not rely on the understanding of personal ethnic experience that Bruce introduced into stand-up comedy. IU1U. 109 110 Caesar's Hour. September 26, 1954. The Bob Hope Show. March 16, 1954. 48 Complicating Ethnicity: Bruce's Jewishness as Performed In addition to his innovative discussions of and references to Jewish life, Bruce deliberately peppered his speech with Yiddish. He rarely deployed full sentences in Yiddish—this was a child of immigrants and not a first generation arrival. His scattered use of catch phrases implied that Bruce had insider knowledge of a different, special world—that he was hip. Combined with his use of jazz idioms, this allowed Bruce to sneak up on his audience. According to critic Nat Hentoff, "By stringing together enough Yiddish firecracker jazz jargon.. .he reaches his audience with his more serious assaults before they are quite aware that they themselves are also included among his targets." The pleasure of cracking the code allowed audiences to accept such attacks as an honor, an initiation price to be paid for admittance into the inner circle of the hip. If his use of Yiddish was just for show, it was a performance that he continued when off-stage, where he would use a similar vocabulary. There, however, he would sometimes speak in code in order to keep something concealed from the powers that be, such as the moment in his New York trial when he told journalist friends who smuggled him tape recorders to keep quiet by saying "Zug nisht! [Say nothing!]"111 In a provocative move, Goldman's biography suggests that Bruce was passing as a Jew on-stage and that much of his Jewishness was constructed as an adult. Goldman's case is that "Lenny was never bar mitzvahed, never sent to Sunday school, never instructed in Jewish history, customs, law, or religion 1 Lenny Bruce was Goldman, Ladies and Gentlemen—Lenny Bruce!!, 532. 49 reared in goyville to be a perfect little goy."112 Goldman posits that Bruce's love of jazz and use of Yiddish came through the influence of Joe Ancis, a Jewish funnyman who was not a professional comedian but was friends with many who were, including Bruce and Rodney Dangerfield.113 According to Goldman, "Joe was also the first to mix in one phrase languages of totally different provenances, totally distinct levels of usage. Big intellectual words would rub shoulders in his shpritz with old-country Yiddishisms and hipster jazz slang, underworld argot and baby talk"114 and "[i]t was from Joe that Lenny got the flavor of the Jewish lower classes."115 It is plausible that Ancis had a major impact on Bruce—Gerald Nachman calls Ancis "a kind of phantom figure who looms in the back of Lenny Bruce's path, as well as those of Mel Brooks, Rodney Dangerfield, Buddy Hackett and Will Jordan"116—but Goldman's book is the only documentation that claims Bruce could have been anything approximating a derivative of Ancis. Ancis was, after all, not a performer, which is an obviously essential element to Bruce's stand-up, both logistically and theoretically. Ancis may have developed Bruce's Jewish side in conjunction with his comedy, as would have 112 Ibid., 86. In May of 2009, the top Google result for "Joe Ancis" comes from a WikiAnswers post by "Jereanne" that reads as follows, in its whole: "I first met Joe Ancis in 1988 or 89 through Rodney Dangerfield. Rodney and Joe had been friends for over 50 years and at the time Joe was living in Rodney's condo in NYC. Rodney would say that Joe was the funniest man he ever met. Joe never went on the road with Rodney because he had a fear of flying but this one time Rodney had convinced him to come to LA where he camped out at the Beverly Hilton penthouse. Joe was a regular Joe with a sharp Jewish wit. .tall and he and Rodney drank at the same pace. We got onto a discussion of God. I tried to explain my thoughts on faith likening it to turning on the lightswitch without any thought of where the electricity [sic] came from. Joe quipped. "Yea, cause 1 pad [sic] the light bill"! Later I learned Joe was a real mensch to many comics and most notably Lenny Bruce." Jereanne, "Who Is Joe Ancis?," WikiAnswers, http://wiki.answers.eom/Q/Who_is_Joe_Ancis. 114 Goldman, Ladies and Gentlemen—Lenny Bruce!! ,138. 115 Ibid., 142. 116 Paul Hallaman, "Gerald Nachman, Author Of "Seriously Funny" Is Interviewed on Jerry Jazz Musician," http://www.jerryjazzmusician.com/linernotes/mort_sahl.html. 113 50 the other Jewish comedians hanging out together at Hanson's Drug Store in New York City. Goldman's portrayal of the Jewish influence in Bruce's life is inconsistent. Despite his talk of "goyville," Goldman frequently assigns supposedly Jewish attributes to Bruce and his family, stating that Lenny had "all the classic Jewish cleanliness phobias"117 and that "[l]ike so many Jewish parents, [Bruce's father] Mickey Schneider sacrificed too much for his children and thereby induced guilt by his generosity."118 Four pages after making a point that Schneider was disconnected from the Jewish experience because he did not know a word of Yiddish, Goldman announces that Schneider had a smile that "bespeaks a lifetime of tsuris that only another Jew could understand."119 Goldman paints a more accurate picture when he acknowledges the potential co-existence of Jewishness and other identities, as when he writes that the family of Bruce's father "were English Jews.. .who spoke English as their native tongue and were damn proud of the fact. The family, nonetheless, was as typically Jewish in its pattern as if it had come from the Polish Pale or from Russia, Rumania, or Hungary."120 Some of the discrepancies stem from Goldman's bombast and propensity for purple prose. Some have to do with the reality of the life of an American Jew, a cultural minority that came to the United States in various waves of immigration, with an oft uncertain relationship to the white majority. To rate Bruce's ethnic authenticity according to the amount of Yiddish he learned as a child is to instate an unrealistic test of cultural purity. 1 Goldman, Ladies and Gentlemen—Lenny Bruce!!, 17. Ibid., 104. 1,9 Ibid., 90. 120 Ibid., 91. 118 51 Bruce was certainly often read as Jewish, in his private life as well as in his public persona. Honey Bruce wrote in her autobiography about an incident in the mid1950s before Bruce's celebrity when they drove across country and encountered a "pickup truck with three young blond cowboys playing fender tag with us."121 The cowboys pulled up alongside the Bruces, rolled down their window, and asked "Are you a Jew?"122 Reluctant to take the easy way out, Bruce refuses to pass as white. Instead, he sticks his head out the window and yells "yes," before engaging in in some fancy driving in order to get away from them. From Honey's perspective, this was "the first time I saw into Lenny's feelings of being on the outside of society. There we were, in the middle of flat prairie country with nothing but the stillness of the land around us, and because Lenny was a Jew, he was still unacceptable and unwanted."123 Bruce's marginality is itself inconstant. As a Jew, he he had the option to pass as white and forget his minority status at times, although bigotry could always pull up in the next pickup truck. That is, being Jewish is not just a choice but an interpellation. Bruce's autobiography describes his childhood endeavors to perform whiteness. When collecting bottles left at the back of Angelo's Bar and Grille in the 1930s and attempting to cash them in at the King Kullen Market: "I tried to look as innocent and Anglo-Saxon as Jackie Cooper, pouting, pooched-out lip and all, but I'm sure I looked more like a dwarfed Maurice Chevalier."124 Here is one more example of Bruce's failed mimicry. He suggests that whiteness can be performed by ethnic whites but that the performance can fail, as one can always be called out by the audience. 1 Bruce, Honey: The Life and Loves of Lenny's Shady Lady, 206. Ibid. 123 Ibid., 206-07. 12 , How to Talk Dirty and Influence People, 4. 122 52 Nonetheless, the manager cashed his bottles, rewarding Bruce for his self-conscious childhood attempt at assimilation. Bruce's cognizance of the performative aspects of identity helps explain why he was so fond of "The Palladium," a routine included on his 1959 album Togetherness. "The Palladium" consists of an elaborate scene centered on a fictional aspiring comic named Frank Dell, a comic in the "middle class bracket" who wants to work "a good room."125 The bit clearly speaks to angst revolving around the idea of acceptability within and around vaudeville. Bruce distances himself from Dell's sentiment by stating his contention that "rooms don't have any identity,"126 but he clearly cares enough about such aspirations to concoct a twenty minute set, which is remarkably long, particularly for stand-up of that era. Dell convinces his personal agent to book him at the Palladium because the venue represents the height of vaudeville respectability. Bruce mocks vaudeville in the form of the staid and trite sentimental acts of a bygone era of comedy and skewers respectability in the person of the plummy hypocrisy of the English booking agent. Bruce plays Dell with deliberate bathos and one suspects that within his construction of a new identity and a new comedy format lurks a man who desperately wanted to succeed in a forum that never accepted him, and which he never could respect. One version of "The Palladium" ends with Bruce removing some of the distance between himself and Dell, confessing "[tjhat's the bit. The bit is, ah, naturally, part me."127 Intriguingly, the reason Dell gives for believing that he will ' 127 , Lenny Bruce: Let the Buyer Beware. , Togetherness. , The Essential Lenny Bruce. ,110. 53 perform well is that he has learned how to shape his identity and play to different groups. Pleading with his personal agent, Dell vows: "I've got it down now. I work to Jewish people—I've learned how to say 'toe-kiss.' I work to the Italian people—I've got the mamma mia bit—I got it all down. I got a Jolson finish, I'll murder them now."128 Dell's self-assessment is off. His performance of ethnicity is performed from the outside, without the crucial element of lived experience, and Dell bombs in London, unable to accurately read and connect with his audience. Bruce's portrayal of Dell hints at Bruce's own anxiety but also points to a belief that such professional performance failures can be avoided if one has a a greater consciousness of how the private, everyday performance of identity actually functions. Bruce has a similar critique of the hack comedian's generic use of ethnicity on his 1958 album Interviews of Our Times. On the track "Djinni in the Candy Store," Bruce sings in Yiddish while portraying an old man cleaning up his store in Manhattan's Upper East Side. Here, the joke resides in the disparity between the aristocratic djinni released from a bottle encountering a local New York Jew whose very ethnicity signals a remove from the world of fantasy ideals—and djinnis. Generic wordplay remains, a legacy from vaudeville, but it now harkens to the past, clumsily out of place in the present. This is the case with the ending of "Djinni in the Candy Store," when the Jewish storeowner asks the djinni to "make me a malted," to which the djinni responds "alright, you're a malted"—and promptly turns the man himself into a milkshake, rather than fixing a traditional malted milkshake as expected.129 Bruce delivers the deliberately corny ending lines with ironic detachment, indicating 128 129 Ibid., 104. Lenny Bruce, Interviews of Our Times (1958). 54 that the humor comes with the acknowledgment of a tired trope whose day has come and gone. The humor is out of place, depending on puns when the rest of the skit plays on the contrast between openly ethnic New Yorkers and the abstract character of common fables. One does not even have to read between the lines in order to see that Bruce's relationship to Judaism was not non-existent so much as it was contradictory. That Bruce's use of Yiddish may have been constructed as an adult rather than learned as a child says less about a lack of authenticity than it speaks for Bruce's choice of language as political. Stephen Kercher reminds us that Bruce refused to climb the class ladder as well: "Unlike the vast majority of successful mainstream Jewish American comedians and entertainers working during the 1950s, Bruce did not dissociate himself from the culture of working- and lower-middle-class Jewish Americans or the Yiddish gutter slang of his youth."130 For Kercher, this means that "Being Jewish provided Bruce.. .with a new, more authentic way of communicating."131 Kercher's account is not at odds with that of Goldman, as authenticity is a construct and not sui generis. Bruce's stand-up Yiddish belongs to his other attacks on the trend of Jewish assimilation, such as his mockery of reform rabbis who are "[s]o reformed they're ashamed they're Jewish."132 For Bruce, Jewishness represented a refusal to conform, and to assimilate was to capitulate. Bruce portrays Judaism as an ethnic heritage which should not be denied and as inherently performative. It is possible to diminish the signs of one's Jewishness and pass as 130 Kercher, Revel with a Cause: Liberal Satire in Postwar America, 407-08. Ibid., 408. 132 Bruce, Lenny Bruce: Let the Buyer Beware. 131 55 white, but a moral performer performs his self—which proffers the stand-up comic as the most moral of performers. Of course, this unveiling or ethnic performance is a reverse image of the process by which many Jewish comedians constructed their American-ness so as to veil their ethnicity and roots which could often be traced back to Germany, Russia and other nations. Comedy Cool: Race-ing Ethnicity I think it is important to acknowledge how significant and shocking it would have been for a Jewish comedian to affiliate himself with nonwhite minorities in the United States—and to do so from a position of hipness—just as images of the abjection and slaughter of European Jewry in German and Polish concentration camps began to filter into American consciousness.133 —Kate E. Brown When it came to disturbing the process of assimilation, Bruce's most audacious maneuver was to align Jewishness with blackness. At its most obvious, this came in his expressions of solidarity with the Civil Rights movement. Bruce was bothered by stereotypes of blacks, as we see in his routine "The Defiant Ones," which parodies the Tony Curtis-Sidney Poitier picture. Bruce performs with a jazz musician friend, Eric Miller, who is African American: Bruce: Come on Jane. It's this way, Jane. Miller: No, it's this way. What do you keep calling me Jane for? Bruce: You don't want to be called "boy" do you? Miller: No.134 Kate E. Brown, "Richard Pryor and the Poetics of Cursing," in Richard Pryor: The Life and Legacy of A "Crazy" Black Man, ed. Audrey Thomas McCluskey (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2008), 78. 134 Bruce, Togetherness. 56 Miller plays the straight man, with Bruce delivering joke lines, including some which are deliberately corny. Bruce: "Don't forget to play The Star-Spangled Banner. It takes both the white keys and the dark-kies."135 Bruce mocks the American ideal of equality, proclaiming proudly how blacks have the right to pay income tax, to go to jail when they commit a crime, and to get drafted. As for schools and segregated housing, well, that takes time... Explaining his views on offensive words to the audience of The Steve Allen Show, Bruce does not defend his own language so much as attack the morals of others, calmly asserting that "[t]here are words that offend me. Uh.. .let's see—Governor Faubus,136 segregation offend me."137 His fantasia "Would You Want Your Sister to Marry One of Them!" argues that the generalizing prejudices of a KKK member would break down in the face of sexual desire when posed with the proposition of marrying either the more conventionally beautiful black singer Lena Home or the white singer Kate Smith, whom Bruce does not consider attractive. Bruce repeats the idea with the choice between the white actor Charles Laughton and the black actor Harry Belafonte, adding: and if you say "Well, Harry Belafonte isn't a very good thing 'cause he's sort of an ofay with a tan, he's been assimilated, and it's only one"—alright, I'll come up with twelve million for you. I'm coming up with twelve million black keesters, twelve million black black Sidney Poitiers... .Kiss him on the mouth, that Sidney Poitier, as opposed to kissing Tony Galento, that grobefreser...m 135 Ibid. Arkansas Governor Orval Faubus was most famous for ordering the national guard to prevent the desegregation of Little Rock Central High School in 1957. 137 The Steve Allen Show. 138 Bruce, Lenny Bruce: Let the Buyer Beware. 136 57 Bruce's use of "black black" acknowledges the possibility that some blacks are viewed as less authentically black than others. He employs a disparaging term towards whites used by blacks—"ofay"—when discussing assimilation amongst blacks, placing the negative connotation more on a generalized whiteness than it does on Belafonte in particular. The Yiddish terms keesters and grobefreser09, in turn, seek to remove Bruce from the umbrella of whiteness. Bruce calls out Hollywood, mocking it for stereotyping blacks and ethnic whites. His album Interviews of Our Times (1958) contains the satire "Father Flotsky's Triumph," in which inmates of a prison have taken its guards hostage. Stereotypes are inflated from within, from the exuberantly kind-hearted Irish priest Father Flotsky who speaks in an overinflated Irish accent, offering to negotiate with the prisoners, to the black death row prisoner: Cut to the worst part of the last mile, a real Uncle Tom scene, death row, the first cell. [As the prisoner, singing in a deep baritone:] Water boy! Well, well. Soon I gwoin up to hebbin, on dee big ribber boat. Then when I gets up dere, I gwonnee gets me lots of fried chicken and waddymelon. [Sings:] Fried chicken and waddymelon. Fried chicken and waddymelon, that's what I gwonna get when I get up to that big ribber boat in heaven. God damn! Yasuh, boss. You see, you don't mind dying, boss, if you got a natural sense of rhythm. H'yack yack yack yack.140 Bruce offers a cornucopia of stereotypes, adding in Yiddish again and an over-the-top male homosexual nurse. His exaggeration highlights the tropes of film in the United States while constructing a world in which the ingredients of the proverbial melting pot mix but do not break down into a generic blandness. Having previously failed as a A crude or coarse over-eater. Bruce, Interviews of Our Times. Bruce's minstrel laugh at the end is strikingly similar to that used by Richard Pryor on the title track of Pryor's 1976 album Bicentennial Nigger. 140 58 traditional mimic, Bruce's new efforts exhibit a hip conversance with multiple subgroups. Nothing attests more to Bruce's hipness than his close association with the jazz scene, which began while he was playing burlesque joints in the mid 1950s.141 Working alongside dancers and jazz musicians, Bruce began telling dope jokes and literally playing to the band, even at the expense of his paying patrons, and sometimes in order to impress specific individuals. The people Bruce tried to please at this point were as likely to be up on the stage with him as they were to be out in the audience and could be quite specific. According to Harlow, when close friend and jazz musician Joe Maini played the same club: Lenny felt he had an audience that dug his comedy. Hearing Joe laugh at a line that went over the audience's head gave Lenny a reason to be funny, an incentive to be creative. How could he say the same words and expect his hippest jazz-musician friend to laugh? So, whenever Joe Maini worked Strip City, Lenny adlibbed—the beginning of his freeform style.142 Bruce's entrance into jazz cool gave him style and community, but placed him outside of mainstream white America, as the jazz accompanists for his burlesque gig were a racially mixed group including "[white bassist] Red Mitchell, [black pianist] Hampton Hawes, [black drummer and member of Miles Davis Quintet] Philly Joe Jones, [black pianist] Elmo Hope, [white female pianist] Lorraine Geller, and [black pianist] Carl Perkins"143 On top of being artistic influences, some of the musicians became close friends and inducted Bruce into the jazz lifestyle, including the use of heroin.144 The 141 Chapter Two address this period in Bruce's career in greater detail. Bruce, Honey: The Life and Loves of Lenny's Shady Lady, 214. 143 Collins 17. 144 NB Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 17. 142 59 same conversational quality that connected him to the audience was therefore a way of simultaneously setting himself apart, connecting Bruce to hip musicians who operated at the margins of society but accumulated critical approbation. The mixed setting had avant-garde connotations, both racially and artistically. Jazz was a common site of rebellion at the time. As Amiri Baraka notes in Blues People: Negro Music in White America, early modern jazz, or bebop, "defined the term of a deeply felt nonconformity among many young Americans, black and white."145 Writers as well as comedians used some of it. Writing in 1963, Baraka noted that Beat Generation authors "gained much notoriety because of their very vocal attachment to jazz."146 It led to the creation of a separate cool elite, as it would to a lesser degree in stand-up comedy: "The 'secret' hopper's and (later) hipster's language was the essential part of a cult of redefinition, in terms closest to the initiated. The purpose was to isolate even more definitely a cult of protection and rebellion."147 Bruce borrowed this language for his personal and professional lives. Bruce actually belonged to a contingent of jazz-inspired comics. First and foremost was Lord Buckley, a character who, after a show business career doing everything from running dance marathons in the 1930s to performing in vaudeville in the 1940s, utilized a hyper version of jazz and beatnik terminology in surrealistic monologues. Mort Sahl was a jazz aficionado himself who "cite[d] pianist and Imamu Amiri Baraka, Blues People: Negro Music in White America (New York: William Morrow, 1963), 200. 146 Ibid., 233. 147 Ibid., 202. 60 bandleader Stan Kenton as his most important performing influence."148 Sahl conceived of their affinity in terms of attitude, saying that: "Stan, of course, was a great artist, but he was a voice of defiance, and he always did it on his own terms."149 Documentary filmmaker Robert Weide points out that Sahl, after beginning at Enrico Banducci's folk club "the hungry i" in San Francisco, forged "a circuit of jazz clubs, bringing comedy into such places as Mr. Kelly's in Chicago, the Village Gate in New York and the Crescendo in Los Angeles."150 Intimate relations between stand-up comedy and jazz should not be surprising. Both jazz and comedy were art forms given little respect at the time by the critical establishment, and both of them were dominated by minorities. Comics and musicians played many of the same venues, particularly after Sahl pioneered stand-up as a profitable profession. In the 1950s and 60s, before the creation of comedy clubs, performing at the same venues also fostered an overlap in the audiences for jazz, folk, and comedy. While not foreign to comedy, several performance methods Sahl and Bruce emphasized in their stand-up can be found in the world of jazz. For example, comedy has a long association with repetition or the use of refrains. What was new was the degree to which stand-up, under the influence of Sahl and Bruce, came to prize techniques such as improvisation. Abandoning a script entailed risk both for the comedian, who performed without a safety net, and for the audience, which rarely knew what was coming next. Gleason stressed the importance of seeing Bruce live, as 148 "American Masters, Mort Sahl," American Masters, PBS, http://www.pbs.org/wnet/americanmasters/database/sahl_m.html. 149 Ibid. 150 Robert B. Weide, "Mort Sahl: The Loyal Opposition," http://www.duckprods.com/projects/mortsahl.html. 61 Bruce, "like the jazz musician, gets bored with the same routines and this has led him to improvisation and leads him now away from things which have become associated with him, making his nightly shows a different experience than his records."151 It also meant that fans who wanted to experience the live and uncensored Bruce had to show up at the clubs, where they could consider themselves part of the cool inside elite. Ralph Gleason, the jazz and cultural critic who would later help found the rock and roll magazine Rolling Stone, wrote numerous liner notes for jazz albums, and also for Bruce. Commenting on a "culture of conformity" and sociologists who claim that the college students of 1958 were conservative, Gleason points to contrary evidence with Bob and Ray, jazz musicians, and the "Comedy of Dissent" as exemplified by Lenny Bruce: "Lenny Bruce is an example of something new in our society. He's a comic right out of the jazz world." For Gleason, Sahl has some "jazz orientation" but is too restrained to a particular rarefied social strata, versus the far-ranging Bruce, who is "colossally irreverent—like a jazz musician. His stock in trade is to violate the taboos out loud... Bruce improvises the way a jazz musician does.... Lenny Bruce is a social commentator, as is the jazz musician."152 That is, Bruce plays an important cultural role, and adopts all of the positive attributes Gleason demands of artists: irreverence, the violation of taboos, and social commentary. The scholarly language and depth of Gleason's accolades reveal a corresponding desire on the part of Bruce (and stand-up comedy in general) for legitimacy. Gleason was one of the critics who bestowed the stamp of intellectual approval on jazz, and now he was transferring some of this cachet onto Bruce. Jazz 151 152 Ralph Gleason. Liner notes. Lenny Bruce, American, 1960. Bruce, Interviews of Our Times. 62 was the perfect choice of authority figure—recognized as an art form, yet still seen as cutting edge and capable of causing disruption, in no small part due to the musicians themselves. Bruce's irreverence and the improvisational style of the stand-up comic become aligned with a more critically acclaimed art form and the Civil Rights struggles of its primary practitioners, who fought racism alongside cultural snobbery. Gleason sets Bruce apart from other comics, with humor transformed from a throwaway element entertainment into a unifying tradition among fellow dissidents. Gleason does not view the association between Bruce and jazz as coincidental and speculates "as to why his comedy of dissent has flourished in the jazz clubs. He terrifies other comics—the usual ones—by his material, in the same way the jazz musician terrifies the hotel bands and the mickey mouse tenor men. He is a threat."153 Previously established forms are being upset by upstart artists. Gleason considers it positive for the establishment to feel threatened, and that there is a need for generational change in night club comedy, as for "almost two decades the night clubs have wallowed in a sea of sentimentality and pious corn and bathroom jokes." Comparing Bruce to jazz musicians accepts the latter as cultural authorities, validates the former, and also establishes a paradigm for Bruce to follow: "The jazz musician is a rebel with humor, if with a cause, and there is no more effective putdown of the political speeches, the incongruities in the news, the fatuous posing of the tent show religious carnivals than that which goes on in the conversation of the jazz musician 153 Ibid. 63 and the humor of Lenny Bruce."154 Not only can humor have a cause, says Gleason, but it actually lends itself to rebellion. The fear was of content (what Bruce said) and form (how Bruce said it), with the entertainment establishment noticeably rattled by the abandonment of predictable scripts. In December of 1958, Ed Sullivan informed Bruce's manager that Bruce could not appear on Ed Sullivan's Toast of the Town specifically because Sullivan was concerned that Bruce might go on the show and then "mouth 'whatever he damn well pleases."'155 His jazz sensibility may have been one reason Bruce found an occasional home on television as the guest of Steve Allen, who was himself a piano-playing composer of jazz music. Bruce's allegiance to jazz was part of his statement of racial affiliation. Eric Bogosian's introduction to the 1992 re-issue of Bruce's autobiography connects Bruce's jazz technique to his use of ethnic and racial dialects: He developed jazz habits: enjoying one's work, doing it for the sake of expression and fun, exploring new ground, taking chances. These were jazz laws, and Lenny brought them to comedy.... Lenny somehow melded Black and Jewish vernacular.156 Bruce incorporated jazz lingo alongside his Yiddish, and the specific brand of improvisation he brought to stand-up comedy has heavy jazz overtones. In his seminal book on African American comedy, Mel Watkins expresses his belief that Bruce "adopted the swagger and assertive impiety of the black hipster in many of his routines and, more than any previous comedian on the mainstream stage, he evoked an 154 Ibid. This is before Jon Stewart, who himself could refashion The Daily Show because of his standup roots. Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 16. 156 Eric Bogosian, "Introduction," in How to Talk Dirty and Influence People (Simon & Schuster, 1992), viii. 64 iconoclasm and irreverence that mirrored the tempo and thrust of black street humor."157 Bruce may have paralleled Ingrid Monson's depiction of the beboppers who developed improvisation techniques partially in reaction to more commercial white swing bands, as black musicians "sought to reassert their musical leadership in jazz by creating something that outsiders had difficulty copying."l58This union operated to decenter whiteness and highlight minority voices. The liminal space of a racially-mixed jazz club becomes Bruce's setting and the prototype for the comedy clubs that would emerge in the late 1960s and 1970s. Gleason's review in Variety explicitly suggested that Bruce was a good booking for such venues and his reviews and liner notes aim to establish an audience identity for Bruce, implying that the same jazz coolness adopted by Bruce could be adopted by his audience. For example, the liner notes for Bruce's 1960 album American posit the jazz audience as the basic audience for Bruce because jazz listening postulates familiarity with the feeling of improvisation and this is essential to understanding and appreciating Lenny Bruce. He 'wails' like a jazz man, 'get in the groove' or whatever he may use to describe the jazz musician's equivalent of being 'on.'.. .the whole thing swings in a jazz sense.150 Gleason lecturing his readers on the intellectual reasons to appreciate Bruce and, as Bruce himself did, employs jazz lingo to indicate inclusion in an insider club. Jazz is the site of the cool other, founded by black musicians, who created a space into which Bruce steps, finding a home for his comedy rhythm and Jewish ethnicity. Watkins, On the Real Side: A History of African American Comedy, 485-6. Ingrid Monson, "The Problem with White Hipness: Race, Gender, and Cultural Conceptions in Jazz Historical Discourse," Journal of the American Musicological Society 48, no. 3 (1995): 411. 159 Gleason. 158 65 Bogosian hints at some of the problematic nature of Bruce's affinity for African American jazz culture, although he poses it as positive: "Lenny was one of the bridges existing between post-war African-American culture and the 'counterculture' culture of the '60s and '70s. Just as the Rolling Stones and the Animals ripped off R&B, or MTV absorbed rap music, Lenny hooked into the jazz mentality."160 "Hooked into" is a more complimentary term than "ripped off or even "absorbed," but all three apply to the appropriation of African American culture by white artists or executives. Ralph Gleason closes his liner notes on Bruce with the large claim that the anti-verbal jazzman has "Lenny Bruce to speak for him with power," suggesting that Bruce has a greater access to influence, due to the microphone provided by comedy and Bruce's status as a white man, but where does Bruce derive the authorization to speak on behalf of blacks or black men? He has an actual black man, his friend Eric Miller, on stage for the skit "How to Relax Your Colored Friends at Parties," but Bruce is clearly the author and impresario of the piece, with the bulk of the lines. No matter how much Bruce got laughter from jazz musicians, both white and black, the fact remains that his primary audience was white. Bruce appeared at times to buy Gleason's praise and presume that he could speak on behalf of African Americans. In Las Vegas in 1960, after being called out of the audience in order to take a bow, Bruce sprayed the headlining African American singer Pearl Bailey with a fire extinguisher. Performing shortly thereafter in a night club, Bruce tells his audience why he acted out in Las Vegas. In part, it was out of annoyance at being called on-stage alongside other entertainers in order to bow ' 60 Bogosian, "Introduction," vii. 66 mindlessly to the crowd. It was also because Bailey's act includes negative stereotypes in which, according to Bruce, "Negresses have loose morals.. .and colored people are lazy."'61 Bruce cites his own inflexibility, stating that "I am not a liberal. I forget she comes from a different generation," implying that he himself is intolerant of stereotypes while Bailey, in contrast, lack political awareness. Powered by an understanding of race that stems from his experience of Jewishness, what Bruce does not do is question whether Bailey's use of stereotype might stem from a survival strategy necessitated by being a black entertainer in a racist and racialized system. Epilogue Race is essential for Bruce's performance of ethnicity, as his use of blackness allows him to equate Jewishness with urbanity. On the one hand, goyish becomes the artificial and inauthentic, regardless of the official religious affiliations: "Evaporated milk is goyish even if the Jews invented it.. ..Spam is goyish and rye bread is Jewish."162 On the other hand, Bruce declares that "To me, if you live in New York or any other big city, you are Jewish. It doesn't matter even if you're Catholic; if you live in New York you're Jewish. If you live in Butte, Montana, you're going to be goyish even if you're Jewish."163 He incorporates black jazz men such as Count Basie into Jewishness while expelling a black convert to Judaism (Ray Charles) and a Jewish blackface performer (Eddie Cantor). Jews are the non-whites: "Negroes are all Jews. Bruce, Lenny Bruce: Let the Buyer Beware. , How to Talk Dirty and Influence People, 5. 67 Italians are all Jews. Irishmen who have rejected their religion are Jews."164 We should recall that he travelled down the assimilationist path before reclaiming his Jewishness, so routines such as "Jewish vs. Goyish" call himself out as well as others. He ignores the difference in the situation, the reality that blacks do not have the option of assimilation in the same manner that Jews do. The dichotomizing is a fruitful comedic technique, but it should not obscure the underlying fact that Bruce himself was both Jewish and Goyish. Bruce's invocation of blackness grants him a cool factor and enables him to accent the non-white elements of Jewishness. The danger resides in the creation of a new stereotype, in particular the conflation of blackness with the jazz-man. Bruce appears aware of the possibility that the emulation of jazz mannerisms by white hipsters could be seen as cultural appropriation. His early recording "Interview with Dr. Sholem Stein" (1958) consists of an interview about calypso music with a Hebrew scholar discussing Hebraic influence on calypso music, such as the story of the wandering Jew. Stein claims that there are Hebraic characters scattered all over, as far as the Bahamas, and compares calypso lyrics with the Mishnah, the seven books of Moses, in particular the third book. Asked whether he has any interest in future colonization, Stein says he is trying to convince Yasha Heifetz to sing calypso music, accompanying himself on the guitar. Bruce's target appears to be other whites who believe that they can adopt non-white cultural practices as if picking out ingredients from a salad bar. Indeed, Bruce frequently calls out white liberals, who would presumably have been a major portion of his audience. He paints a sarcastic picture of 68 Equality Heaven, where presumably progressive Hollywood producers like Darryl Zanuck and Stanley Kramer, who believe in equality, all live, and Miller and his colored friends can go and polish their cars. Bruce points to the hypocrisy of the white liberal, even as his Jewishness allowed him to play the part of a white southerner. While the stamp of blackness was unavoidable for African American stand-up comics in America, Jewish stand-up comics have had greater leeway in deciding how visible to make their ethnicity165, which helps explain their earlier ascendance in the field. Bruce's performances of race do not reveal him as a saint of the Civil Rights movement, but a struggling sinner. It appears that he first tackled racial stereotypes when performing in the Catskills with his wife Honey in the early-to-mid 1950s. The two would embody old racial stereotypes that were beginning to be embarrassments to white America, doubly so when presented out of their usual context by the two Bruces. Honey states that, when playing in the Catskills, We would do like a satire on a handyman and, say, the Negro maid that had worked the season in the Catskills. Like, we were making the ride back to the city and talking over the Jewish people we worked for. He sounded like one of the guys on Amos 'n' Andy, and I did a voice like Butterfly McQueen.166 The two performed satires in which they played black resort workers speaking about the Jewish resort-goers. Traces of this approach remain in the "Father Flotsky" satire, in which the black death row convict dreams of heaven because of all the watermelon and chicken that'll be there, and declaims that "you don't mind dying, boss, if you got a natural sense of rhythm." By placing Hollywood stereotypes or race and ethnicity 165 A more recent example is Roseanne Barr, whose autobiography tells of her formative experience growing up Jewish in Salt Lake City. I suspect that she did not reveal this fact in her initial act due to the already significant obstacles arising against her vocal feminism and class consciousness. 166 Goldman 71. 69 alongside each other and by reconfiguring blacks as Jewish, Bruce situates ethnicity in the United States within the larger framework of race and also launches Jewishness as the fashionable forefront of stand-up comedy self-fashioning. 70 Chapter Two: "Utter Taboos: The Obscenity of Lenny Bruce" "They said that he was sick 'cause he didn't play by the rules He just showed the wise men of his day to be nothing more than fools They stamped him and they labeled him like they do with pants and shirts He fought a war on a battlefield where every victory hurts Lenny Bruce was bad, he was the brother that you never had." —Bob Dylan, "Lenny Bruce"1 Prologue Lenny Bruce's entrance into the national mythos of the United States began in the late 1950s, when his stand-up comedy appearances at San Francisco's North Beach nightclubs caught the eyes of prominent cultural critics. Writing in Variety, Ralph J. Gleason pronounced him "the hottest sleeper comic in recent local history."169 Legendary San Francisco Chronicle columnist Herb Caen quoted Bruce to close the April 1958 column in which Caen coined the term "beatnik." Under the all caps heading "CONFESSION," Caen wrote that: "Comedian Lenny Bruce, who opened last night at Ann's 440 on [Broadway Street], confides: 'I'm just like everybody else. I want to be a non-conformist, too!'" 170 The joke reads now as it probably did then, as a muted jab, aimed more at the self-proclaimed non-conformists than at the upholders of the establishment. The one-liner has been removed from its place in a larger act, and the verbal witticism has been separated from the aggressive energy of Bruce's physical presence. Nonetheless, the quip evokes one of the central organizing issues of 168 Bob Dylan. "Lenny Bruce" Shot of Love. Columbia, 1981. Ralph. J. Gleason, "Ann's 440, S.F.," Variety, April 9, 1958. 170 Herb Caen, "Pocketful of Notes," San Francisco Chronicle, February 6, 1997. [Original: April 2, 1958. Microform Unclassified.] 169 71 Bruce's groundbreaking comedy—namely, normativity versus non-conformity in the United States. It can be difficult to recollect the panic that Bruce aroused with his use of profanity, accustomed as we've become to the use of cursing on-stage. Bruce's use of comedy to destabilize normativity and broach core issues of race and ethnicity was radical enough to elicit a sustained governmental backlash, most notably in the guise of obscenity prosecutions. By the early 1960s, municipalities from coast to coast (San Francisco, Los Angeles, Chicago and New York) felt that Bruce needed to be contained via prosecution. According to legal scholars Ronald Collins and David Skover, around a dozen prosecutors, twice that many defense lawyers, and thirty trial and appellate judges were involved in Bruce's four primary obscenity cases, making the trials the most ever involved in "any single body of First Amendment litigation. And all of this for misdemeanor offenses."171 How then, in a few short years, did Bruce's public persona evolve from an unknown irreverent quipster shoring up the bottom of a local newspaper column into a notorious performer perceived as a nationwide threat? This chapter traces Bruce's entanglement with the law, linking the obscenity claims to the performances of race and ethnicity explored in Chapter One, and arguing that the obscenity charges against him stemmed more from his exploration of taboo concepts than from his use of specific taboo words and, furthermore, that Bruce's speech acts served to delimit the field of stand-up comedy. Bruce demonstrates that stand-up comics could lay claim to non-normative language, and it was his routines 171 Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 4. 72 about sex, drugs, ethnicity and race which established the Id of each individual comic as the prime staging grounds for stand-up. The state-sponsored repression of Bruce shocks in retrospect largely because of the success of his legacy, which was the creation of stand-up as a free speech zone, in which flirtation with the obscene is not just tolerated but expected. Standing Trial: Obscenity in San Francisco The first major obscenity charge arrived in October of 1961, when Bruce 1 79 played the Jazz Workshop in San Francisco, just down the road from Ann's 440. Recounting that earlier debut, Bruce describes how his agent asked him to replace Ann's supposedly homosexually-oriented show with ostensibly heterosexual entertainment. The following on-stage reminiscence prompted Bruce's arrest by two police officers on the lookout for obscene acts: Bruce [as Bruce]: Well, what kind of a show is it, man? Bruce [as Agent]: Well, you know. Bruce [as Bruce]: Well, no, I don't know, man. Likc.it sounds...kind of a weird show. Bruce [as Agent]: Well, it's not a show. They're a bunch of cocksuckers, that's all. A damned fag show. And that's... Bruce [as Bruce]: Oh. Well, that is a pretty bizarre show. Uh...I don't know what I could do in that kind of a show. Bruce [as Agent]: Well, no, it's, we want you to change all that. Bruce [as Bruce]: Well...Chr...I don't...that's a big gig. I can just tell them to stop doin' it.173 172 Ann's 440 was, appropriately enough, at 440 Broadway St., San Francisco. The Jazz Workshop was located at 473 Broadway. 173 The Trials of Lenny Bruce, (Sourcebooks, Inc.), Compact Disc. "Ann's 440 / A Pretty Bizarre Show." 73 Bruce creates humor by purposefully misreading the agent's request that he change the on-stage show, imagining instead that he has been asked to alter the off-stage sexual behavior which designates the performers as homosexual. The misreading is possible because the agent does not distinguish between public and private performance, stating that "it's not a show" because it's a "fag show." The agent appears caught between the belief that homosexuality is morally unsuitable for public viewing and that homosexuality is already a performance when off-stage, and therefore unworthy when evaluated using show business standards. Bruce's on-stage reenactment portrays himself as he often wanted to be seen, more the open-minded and reasonable rebel than the firebrand revolutionary. He gets to be both the one benefitting from the expulsion of homosexual acts and the one publicly critiquing such banishment. When a stand-up plays multiple characters, it is within the framework of the self, presenting how he or she perceives the world and his or her place in it. When playing the agent, Bruce's tone is brash and vulgar, an uptight and illogical cog of the establishment. When playing himself, the tone is laidback, inquisitive, and matter-of-fact. Bruce calls the outgoing show "weird" and "bizarre," but it's unclear whether this characterizes his views of homosexuality, or is due to his interpretation of the show as a literal enactment of homosexual sexual acts. Bruce's brashness resides both in his use of obscenity in the live public act of stand-up, and in his revelation of who utilizes these derogatory terms in private, behind closed doors. Ironically, given Bruce's depiction of hypocritical authority figures, it's actually the dialogue issued as the moralizing agent which got him in trouble with the law—namely, his use of the appellation "cocksuckers." The law, as embodied by 74 prosecutors and police officers, took offense at Bruce's choice of words in a markedly personal fashion. Arresting officers James Ryan and James Solden proclaimed outrage at the public utterance of "cocksucker," with Sergeant Solden telling Bruce: "I'm offended because you broke the law. I mean it sincerely. I mean it. I can't see any right, any way you can break this word down, our society is not geared to it."174 Solden thus personalized the legal statute, establishing both himself and the statute as representatives of an American people who have set up a legal system to prevent themselves or their neighbors from encountering vulgar language in a public setting, regardless of any individual's willingness to encounter such concepts. Time and again, the attacks against Bruce did not come from club patrons but from governmental authorities, suggesting a larger struggle against a societal power structure which pushed aside the immediate tension between the stand-up comic and his audience. Bringing the case to the San Francisco courtroom in November 1961, the prosecution focused on three portions of Bruce's act. In addition to the word which shook the policemen, Bruce's performance at the Jazz Workshop contained a comic fantasia in which Bruce envisioned a man standing next to a ticket booth with a sign hanging from his penis that read "When we hit fifteen hundred dollars, the guy inside the booth is going to kiss it."175 Finally, there was Bruce's routine entitled "To Is A Preposition, Come is a Verb," in which Bruce riffs on the phrase "to come" and suggests that those who find the words obscene are driven by their personal sexual frustration.176 Accompanying himself on drums, Bruce repeats the phrase "Did you 174 Collins 50-1. Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 49. 176 Bruce, The Essential Lenny Bruce. 175 75 come good?" in a variety of permutations, first with a pause that makes it read "Did you come? Good" before eliding the words into a rapturous refrain, equating sex with a jazz-like improvisation on themes. The discussion of sexual satisfaction, both male and female, is startlingly frank, but the state paid particular attention to the repeated phrase "Don't come in me, don't come in me." In the only one of the three bits which alludes to heterosexual activity, the government's objection was to the portrayal of a woman attempting to avert pregnancy, which suggests that women's sexual agency and the avoidance of procreation were both larger taboos than the expression of sexual satisfaction. Bruce was cited as obscene for the use of individual words, but the through-line of concern pertained to his revelations of non-heterosexual, nonprocreative—and, therefore, non-normative—sexual activity. The state's particular anxiety surrounding sexuality anticipates Judith Butler's articulation of hate speech. Butler notes a similar connection at play between injurious speech and sexuality in the United States in the 1980s and 90s, writing in Excitable Speech that "the action of speech is considered unequivocally to be injurious conduct... in those instances in which the graphic representation of sexuality is at issue."177 With Bruce, however, the issue was not whether he had injured any particular person with his words. The state expressed little concern over the audience members who paid to go to his shows. On the contrary, the government downplayed Bruce's actual immediate audiences in favor of society in the abstract. The unvoiced question became whether Bruce could use the medium of live comedy to produce a speaking subject outside of the law's strict control. 177 Judith Butler, Excitable Speech: A Politics of the Performative (New York: Routledge, 1997), 39. 76 A core battle brewed over the framing of Bruce's act when presented in the courtroom—would Bruce be allowed to explain his humor in context? The first judge in the San Francisco case, Albert A. Axelrod, sided with the prosecution's assertion that Bruce's performances need not be considered as a whole.178 This meant that any word found obscene on its own could be counted against Bruce. Axelrod's decision also characterized stand-up comedy as a series of isolated words—of individual jokes strung together over time as opposed to a performance text that is conceived of as a whole. Stand-up was not granted the respect that long-recognized art forms such as literature received, even when regarded as potentially obscene. According to Axelrod, "if you are discussing a book, then you may have to take perhaps the whole meaning, but we are not talking about that. We are talking about a specific word."179 Brace's profane words were not seen as components of sentences let alone of a full-length act. By extracting the words from the performance, Axelrod disregarded the import of a speaking subject operating in conjunction with an audience; this collaboration is, of course, the engine of stand-up comedy. The comic cannot act without an audience, whose laughter, applause, and presence comprise much of the interlocutory meaning in the stand-up's speech act. Although Axelrod considered Brace's language obscene, Brace's lawyers successfully argued for a new trial based on a technicality, pointing out that their client should have been informed that he had a right to counsel at his arraignment following the arrest. Bruce then received a jury trial under Judge Clayton W. Horn. This was a hopeful sign as Horn had presided over the 1957 trial and acquittal of Lawrence 1 179 Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 54. Ibid. 77 Ferlinghetti on charges of obscenity stemming from the publication of Allen Ginsberg's Beat poem "Howl." At that previous trial, Horn had listened to the assorted literary experts who advocated on behalf of the poem's merit and ruled that "Howl" was not criminal as it contained redeeming social importance. As it turned out, Horn was less open to justifications of cultural significance when applied to stand-up. Bruce's lawyer Albert Bendich requested that Bruce's comedy be allowed to breathe—namely, that "the audience might not be allowed to respond naturally, given the circumstances that this is an accurate reproduction of a performance which is given at a nightclub."180 Horn refused to make allowances for the live nature of the medium, let alone equate the audience of the nightclub with that of the courtroom. He ruled that "this is not a theater and it is not a show, and I am not going to allow any such thing... .1 am now going to admonish the spectators that you are not to treat this as a performance."181 Performance requires interpretation and an interplay between audience and performer; Horn wanted the voice of the law to be immutable. Furthermore, Horn explicitly ruled that the spectators at the trial were not to laugh at the tape. Horn's pronouncement that the records of Bruce's performances are "not for your entertainment"182 presupposes that one cannot enjoy the treatment of serious subjects and betrays a common distrust of laughter, a frequent suspicion, perhaps stemming from its association with physical pleasure. Practically speaking, Horn asserted the law's sole power to determine meaning and to re-stage the response to Bruce's material. This forestalled any potential community or communion Bruce 180 Ibid., 74. Ibid. 182 Ibid. 181 78 might have created with his new spectatorship, the jury. Horn fought for the universality of language, free from context, while Bruce made his living demonstrating languages live and mutable nature. The charges against Bruce arrived in the wake of major societal reconsiderations of obscenity. Along with "Howl," there was the Supreme Court's 1957 decision in the landmark obscenity case Roth v. United States, which came down 6-3 against Samuel Roth's mail-order business selling erotic literature and photographs. William J. Brennan's majority decision instructed that one could recognize such material by asking "whether, to the average person, applying contemporary community standards, the dominant theme of the material, taken as a 1 S^ whole, appeals to prurient interest." The definition was highly vague but nonetheless made it clear that obscenity, should it be spotted, would be found to be inherently without redeeming qualities, as "[ojbscenity is not within the area of constitutionally protected freedom of speech or press." 184 Not only was obscenity unprotected, it was undesirable, and Brennan quoted the Court's 1942 decision in Chaplinsky v. New Hampshire that "[i]t has been well observed that [lewd and obscene] utterances are no essential part of any exposition of ideas, and are of such slight social value as a step to truth that any benefit that may be derived from them is clearly outweighed by the social interest in order and morality."185 For the Court, society clearly aligned on the side of order and morality. Should Bruce be shown to operate outside the social norm, he could be duly censored and censured. For his part, 183 Roth V. United States, 354 U.S. 476,(1957). Ibid. 185 Ibid. 184 79 Bruce never actually asked for permission to be obscene, but argued that he was in the business of inciting social observation, not sexual incitement. The law's fear of immoral speech may have been exacerbated by the refiguring of sexual mores taking place in the United States of the late 1950s and early 1960s. In 1948, Alfred Kinsey had published Sexual Behavior in the Human Male, followed five years later by Sexual Behavior in the Human Female. Masters and Johnson began their work on sexuality in 1957, while the combined oral contraceptive pill was approved for use in the United States in 1960. In the world of literature, Charles Rembar sued the New York City postmaster in 1959 to get Grove Press permission to publish Lady Chatterley's Lover, and in 1961, Grove helped defend over sixty cases brought against booksellers for selling Henry Miller's Tropic of Cancer. In this atmosphere, Bruce had cause to be concerned about whether his performances would be considered artistic or of social worth. Just a few years before presiding over Bruce's trial, Judge Horn hinted at a belief that art should play an edifying and uplifting role in society; he sentenced five women convicted of shoplifting to watch The Ten Commandments and write essays on the film's moral lessons.186 It was unlikely that Bruce would be granted the same esteem granted to Charlton Heston's Moses. In the end, it was Judge Horn who came to Bruce's aid, giving instructions which led the jury to acquit Bruce in March 1962. Newspaper accounts made it clear that the jury sided with government efforts to rein in Bruce rather than the appreciative night club audiences: The San Francisco Examiner reported that "[t]he jury foreman said, in returning the verdict, 'we hated to give this verdict, but under the law as given 186 Donovan Bess, "Court Rules on Biblical Essays—1 Wins, 1 Loses," San Francisco Chronicle, August 7, 1957. 80 us, there was nothing we could do.'"187 According to the San Francisco Chronicle, Bruce's acquittal by the jury was no affirmation of "the comedian's role as a social critic and his attacks on hypocrisy [but was] Judge Horn's instruction that to find Bruce guilty it would be necessary to show that his act last October 4 at the Jazz Workshop.. .had presented 'a clear and present danger.'"'88 Unable to paint Bruce as an immediate threat, the jury called for legislative action against wayward comedians. '"Under the letter of the law we had no choice,' jury foreman George Case III said, 'but we feel the obscenity laws of the State of California should be scrutinized and tightened.'"189 The crux of contention was majoritarian control of minority voices, a fight by the public court system to regulate speech between adults in private clubs. Interestingly, Bruce's reaction to the verdict seemed to acquiesce to the premise that his act involved an overdose of profanity, even as he hinted at a higher purpose for his performance work. '"I'm never going to say any four-letter words again,' Bruce said. 'I'm bored with the dirty-word aspect and I'm off for a bigger mission. I'm going to thwart pseudo-Christians and make them live their religion or back down.'"190 Bruce never did fulfill his vow to abjure dirty words, but the main naivete of his statement lies in his failure to realize that his comedy already was about the thwarting of pseudo-Christians and the exposure of their purported dissimulation. That was the case with routines such as "Religions, Inc.," which I analyze later in this chapter, and was also the nub of his attack on the moralizing entertainment agent who 187 "Acquittal of Lenny Ires Chief," San Francisco Examiner, March 10, 1962. Michael Harris, "Lenny Bruce Cleared: Lenny Bruce Acquitted in Smut Case," San Francisco Chronicle, March 9, 1962. 189 Ibid. 190 Ibid. 188 81 hired Bruce to replace the "fag show" at Ann's 440. It is possible that Bruce knew he was already operating on this level but felt that the government had failed to take notice. Such legal and cultural imbroglios do not need to operate on a conscious level. Deliberate or not, the foundation of all of the obscenity cases was the government's desire to eliminate Bruce's stand-up assault on the logic of conventional morals. Vulgarity and the Vernacular: Bruce's Burlesque Background A significant portion of the shock caused by Bruce's profanity stemmed from the where of his speaking. This was particularly evident as Bruce transitioned into more respectable middle class nightclubs and out of the burlesque joints that had provided him with most of his work in the mid-1950s. "Burlesque" was formerly a term used to designate a "species of literary composition, or of dramatic representation, which aims at exciting laughter by caricature of the manner or spirit of serious works, or by ludicrous treatment of their subjects; a literary or dramatic work of this kind."191 American burlesque in the 1950s was a bawdier form of vaudeville heavily transitioned into the striptease that would supplant it in the 1960s. It was while emceeing this burlesque that Lenny Bruce began making innovative strides in several of the focal areas that would come to define stand-up comedy: improvisation, active audience response, and the inclusion of current events in the act. Burlesque venues understandably put fewer restrictions on their comics than family-friendly vaudeville, giving freer rein to expressions of sexuality and 191 "Burlesque, A. And N.," The Oxford English Dictionary, Oxford University Press, http://dictionary.oed.com/cgi/entry/50029715. 82 experimentations with form. Honey asserts that it was at his regular gig at the Los Angeles club Strip City that Bruce "started experimenting with comedy," in particular when it came to the level of intimacy and innovation in his audience interactions. Honey writes that her husband "began scouring the newspapers every day for a phrase, a picture—anything to be used to spark an audience. At first he picked out look-alikes in the audience.. .Customers began to come back again just to hear Lenny because every night what he said was different but familiar to the audiences."193 The cause and effect regarding the daily alteration of material is not clear-cut. Some audience members assuredly returned more frequently because Bruce mixed up his material, while a number of them presumably were interested in viewing the female strippers. Bruce also mixed up his material because, for the first time, he had long runs at single establishments, including Strip City, Duffy's, and the slightly higher class Crescendo. In addition, the incorporation of local events into his act was indubitably influenced by the success in 1954 of Mort Sahl, who not only incorporated news into his act, but brought an actual newspaper with him on-stage. The transition from the general and generic to the specific and the topical provided the crucial scaffolding for stand-up. Low expectations actually allowed for greater artistic freedom. Again referencing Strip City, Honey stated that it was "a great place for a comic to break in material because no one would really notice if a comedy bit laid an egg. They also wouldn't notice if Bob Hope were on stage. This would sometimes frustrate Lenny, driving him to dream up bizarre stunts to relieve his boredom.'"94 William Karl 192 193 Bruce, Honey: The Life and Loves of Lenny's Shady Lady, 213. Ibid. 83 Thomas, a cinematographer who has written on his exploits with Bruce, recounts an infamous incident at the Hollywood club called Duffy's Gay Nineties in the late 1950s in which Bruce "appeared nude and urinated in a knothole on the stage floor, about which the dancers had complained because they caught their spike heels in it."195 Bruce's shock value stemmed from both boundary-pushing and simple attentionseeking, partially motivated by the pressure on the emcees to compete with the female dancers. The sexual nature of the clubs emphasized bawdiness, and the milieu of exotic dancing was pervaded by gender imbalance. The dancers were female, the emcees and musicians mostly male, and the clientele also tilted towards more men than women. The legacy of sexism in stand-up comedy owes much to the fact that burlesque is one of its ancestors. At the strip joints in Southern California, Bruce could swear in public without official censure. Words he could use with impunity in burlesque were the ones which would find him furor in middle class night clubs. Traditional swear words were associated with disreputable social locations, and Bruce's lawyers inferred class discrimination in the establishment's desire to prevent Bruce from using these words in more reputable clubs. Defending Bruce in his 1964 New York case, Ephraim London outlines the etymological history of English swear words: after the Norman invasion of England, the words that began to be adopted, words of politeness that began to be used in the English language were words of French origin. And those that were of AngloSaxon origin tended to be used by the peasant class or the servant class. m 195 William Karl Thomas, Lenny Bruce: The Making of a Prophet (Hamden, Connecticut: Archon Books, 1989), 15. 196 Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 248. 84 London implies that Bruce was prosecuted in part for his refusal to assimilate as a proper middle class citizen, evidenced by his continued use of language associated with the working class,. Indeed, it was only when trying to cross the tracks to the bourgeois side of town that Bruce encountered resistance. The pressures of propriety obviously weighed heavily as he sought to make his way in the entertainment business. We see this in his introduction to "The Palladium," a twenty-minute routine about a vaudeville comedian seeking to play a prestigious joint, in which Bruce opines against people who claim that there was any such thing as "good rooms, class rooms," stating his belief that "[r]ooms don't have any identity," even as he then proceeds to discuss at length the challenges of playing highfaluting establishments.197 Like the laboring Vaudevillian comedian he presents in "The Palladium," Bruce plays the working stiff who decries the cultural elites even as he seeks their favor. The class suspicions ran both ways. When facing a resistant high-class clientele in fancier clubs, Bruce's instinct was to challenge them and, when necessary, seek a more receptive audience. Thomas recounts how Bruce rattled his gilded cage when playing the 1957 New Year's Eve show at The Slate Brothers Club in Los Angeles: "[w]hen a line failed he'd turn his back on the audience and play to the 1 OR band." Continuing to bomb, Bruce launched a joke that "had only drawn nervous laughter from an all-male group" when told by Buddy Hackett the night before. The two-line joke appears deliberately designed with impropriety in mind, with the question of "Daddy, what's a pervert?" receiving the answer "Shut up, son, and keep ' 7 Bruce, Togetherness. 198 Thomas, Lenny Bruce: The Making of a Prophet, 28. 85 sucking."199 The breach in etiquette was vulgar enough to get Bruce fired, but the joke differs from those that would get Bruce into trouble a few years later. It was not an original line, did not represent an individual's opinion, and did not link to a rebellious social movement, as would stand-up. Therefore, the threat was minor, and there was no need for the government to get involved. The burlesque backdrop was also a major source of the heavy jazz influence discussed in Chapter One and racially mixed spaces and performance places garnered extra police watchfulness. That "Howl" was first performed at 6 Gallery, in the "Negro section" of San Francisco, reflects that the white avant-garde were drawn to rebel in liminal spaces.200 The poem itself echoes that attraction, citing the intersection of races as a source of danger and thrills, talking of "angelheaded hipsters" who were 901 "dragging themselves through the Negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix." This white desire for mixed racial spaces must have elicited some of the fear of "Howl" and of Bruce whose first arrest, after all, would come at the Jazz Workshop, a showcase for African American music, where Bruce appeared on the bill alongside black tenor saxman Ben Webster. Bruce tried to outline the racial context of his work for the courts in later cases. In his 1964 New York trial, the city editor of Ebony magazine testified that Bruce's 'superb social satire' reflected his 'continuing concern for basic issues such as racial equality, bigotry, [and] religious intolerance....His comments on such questions as to oppression, and the discrimination against the Negro 1 Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 40. "Howl." 86 people, his references to religious misunderstanding and intolerance, and bigotry point this up well.202 For his appeal in the 1963 Chicago trial, Bruce wanted Father Norman O'Connor, the so-called "jazz priest" who had officiated at Billie Holiday's memorial service in 1959. O'Connor promised to testify on Bruce's behalf, but was ordered by his superiors not to.203 During the jury selection, Bruce's side dismissed "the Reader's Digest devotee," presumably taking the magazine as an indication of a conservative nature, while the prosecution excused "Mr. Witherspoon, a well-dressed middle-aged black man."204 The resulting jury was all white. The legal skirmishes over whether Bruce obscenely violated community standards were not just about diagnosing obscenity but about determining community. When arguing for Bruce, his lawyer Bendich brought up this liminal space of burlesque next to the nightclubs, pointing to Finocchio's, with its "drag-queen blacknet-stocking-and-brassiered cabaret" in order to establish community standards in which Bruce's behavior would not seem out-of-place.205 The question for society-atlarge, therefore, was whether they would allow representatives from such a community to perform in the public square. The boundary-blurring was both geographical and social, as stand-up comics developed their presentation of alternative lifestyles. 202 Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 252. Ibid., 152. 204 Ibid., 63. 205 Ibid., 64. 203 87 Unmasking the Man: Speaking like the People Bruce argued that, in order to present a fully-formed character, foul language was needed. In his own words, "when I speak like the people, I speak like the people."206 The people liked what they heard. Bruce's fame grew and, by the time he played the nightclub The Unicorn in Los Angeles in February 1963, the audience urged Bruce to repeat the very routines that had brought him prosecution in San Francisco in 1961 and at the nearby club The Troubadour in Los Angeles in 1962 (the court consolidated the two L.A. cases into one). Bruce set out to test the dividing line between personal and professional speech, telling his audience that "[t]he law says that anything you say on stage that might be considered obscene is illegal---even if you say the same things to each other on the street or at home. In other words, if I'm not on stage, the law doesn't apply, which is ludicrous. So, here's what I'm going to do." At that point, Lenny opened the backstage door, walked into the gutter of Sunset Boulevard, and continued to talk to the audience on the microphone..." There he was, out on the street," [club owner] Cohen recalled, "and he was repeating 'motherfucker, motherfucker, motherfucker, motherfucker!'"207 Seven years after Erving Goffman published his The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, Bruce was questioning the division between a "back region, where the performance of a routine is prepared, and front region, where the performance is presented."208 Stand-up spotlights the junction of the two. To that extent, Prosecutor Ross was half-right when he "argued that Lenny was no satirist like Jonathan Swift, but rather a man who took the dirty language of the 'pool hall and the locker room Ibid., 248. Ibid., 115. Goffman, The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, 238. 88 [into] the public place.'" The stand-up comic is actually both satirist and purveyor of dirty language. The combination of previously distinct realms caused unintentionally comic confusion as to which utterances were part of the public performance and which were private. At one point, Bruce paused and "asked that the stage lights be dimmed [but the] high beams still kept on glaring. Staring up at the control booth, Lenny yelled, 'You dwarf motherfucker, turn the lights down!' When there still was no change, he bent over the table closest to the stage, and said: 'The dwarf prick thinks I'm kidding.'" 210 The government considered these outbursts part of Bruce's act and prosecuted him for those as well as his more standard set of routine. By operating without an official script, stand-up gains the excitement of the live but has to accept unexpected language as part of its text. The legal system had never encountered anyone like Bruce before. The very avant-garde nature of Bruce's act worked for him insofar as surprising and entertaining audiences, but turned against him when it came to the eyes of the law. Prosecutor Ross cited Bruce's unusual nature as reason for him to be contained. Asking questions of one of the policemen present, Officer Gerald Schayer, he first establishes Schayer's familiarity with the norms of comedic entertainment before enquiring whether Bruce fit those norms: Ross: How many times have you been to nightclubs where there were acts, comedians, or a use of comedians, maybe not as a whole show but just as part of the show?... Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 130. Ibid., 103. 89 Schayer: Crescendo in the Hollywood area....The Largo in the West Hollywood area. Pink Pussycat in the West Hollywood area. I believe the Lake club.... Ross: During these times that you attended those performances, did you hear any routines that were similar to these routines that you have testified to concerning Mr. Bruce? Schayer: No, I don't believe so.... Ross: I am talking about the type of performance he gave, treating those topics and the manner in which those topics were treated, as you have testified. Schayer: No, I don't believe so.... Bruce's originality posed a risk for him, as the law was clearly shaken by the style of performance he introduced into the public sphere. In addition. Schayer's testimony suggested that the judge of comedy norms could be an officer of the law, rather than a cultural critic or an audience member. The early 1960s was the period of some of Brace's classic routines, including "How to Relax Your Colored Friends at Parties" and "Thank You, Mask Man," the latter being an investigation into the Lone Ranger's habit of heading off into the sunset without stopping for accolades. Bruce portrays a townsman catching up with the Lone Ranger, who explains how his work would be derailed by becoming addicted to gratitude. Brace ventures beyond "unmasking" cultural icons and by suggesting that what the Lone Ranger wants, when it comes down to it, is Tonto, and that the two are bound by the Lone Ranger's sexual desire. Lone Ranger: A present? Alright, for the children, I'll do it. No ashtrays, uh, give me the Indian over there! Townsman: Who, Tonto? Lone Ranger: Yes, Tanta—whatever the spic-half-breed's name is, I'll take him. Townsman: Spic half-breed? God damn, you can't, you can't have Tonto. Lone Ranger: Bullshit, that's what I want, Tanta the Indian. 211 Ibid., 121. 90 Townsman: Look buddy, his name ain't Tonta, it's Tonto, and you can't have Tonto. Lone Ranger: Bullshit, I want Tanta. I want Tanta the Indian! Townsman: God-damn you freak, I wanna tell you—what the hell you want Tonto for? Lone Ranger: To perform an unnatural act. Townsman: What? Lone Ranger: You heard me, to perform an unnatural act. Townsman: The Masked Man's a fag. Haaaaaaaah. He's a fag. Haaaaaaah. He's a fag man. Hold on, I'm getting dizzy. Don't look at him, kids, that's a bad fag man. Ho, the masked fag bad fag dad man. You fag bastard, you. God-damn it, kids. Masked Man, I never knew you were that way! Lone Ranger: Well, I'm not, but I've heard so much about it. You know, I like what they do with homosexuals in the country. The punishment is quite correct, consistent with most of the endemic law. They throw them in jail with a lot of men, very clever.212 Typically, Bruce's larger point is the hypocrisy of the most selfless of societal forces. The Lone Ranger's inability to get Tonto's name correct mocks the conceit of a special bond between cowboy and Indian, tearing into the trope of the best friend of color who validates the white man, as was also the case with the Lone Ranger spin-off The Green Hornet, whose grateful sidekick is the ambiguously "Oriental" Kato.213 Once again, Bruce has the authority figure start with the epithets ("spic half-breed") and vulgarity ("Bullshit"). The crass racial epithet reveals the unspoken racialization of the relationship, with the associated sexual desire serving as the true unmasking of the Lone Ranger. For Bruce, both the revelation of hypocrisy and the expression of desire were crucial to stand-up comedy. Again, Bruce felt forced to defend himself against the idea that talking about sexuality was a prelude to sex and that he was inciting sexual excitement, as the 212 Bruce, Lenny Bruce: Let the Buyer Beware. The trope continues in Hollywood movies, including many buddy cop films such as the Lethal Weapon series starring Mel Gibson and Danny Glover. 213 91 prosecution eschewed the deeper issues surrounding the signification of cultural icons and pressed Bruce on the motivation behind his comedy: Bruce: What's the most ridiculous thing that the Lone Ranger could do? We assume that's completely incongruous....He wants the Indian... .To perform an unnatural act. It is silly, you know Ross: In other words, you were not trying to say anything about the unnatural act, then? In other words, it was just for incongruity, then? Was it trying to raise a laugh from the audience? Was that its point? Bruce What do you want from me? Tell me— Ross: Just your answers. Bruce: I didn't—I didn't want to encourage anyone in the audience to be perverse or to perform any unnatural act.2 A comic rather than a critic, Bruce is unable to articulate a greater purpose for his routine. He is apparently flummoxed that the prosecutor might consider the act he describes as one that he wants to model for the audience. His lawyer Burton Marks puts it more clearly, questioning Officer Sherman Block whether "[a]nybody at that show, after hearing Mr. Bruce, did they masturbate?...Did you think that on October 24, 1962, at The Troubadour, people were having an orgy by listening to Mr. Bruce?" The judge sustained the prosecution's objection that the questions were immaterial. The L.A. charges would be dismissed in 1963 but did not lead to Bruce himself experiencing the stand-up stage with free speech protection. The jury deadlocked and the prosecutors felt they could not get a clear shot against Bruce. Rather than freeing the comic, this dissolution sentenced Bruce to limbo. Unable to stop Bruce and this new form with one fell swoop, the prosecutors across the country collaborated in order to try and inflict death by a thousand cuts. The unfamiliar, non-scripted nature of 214 215 Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 129. Ibid., 124. 92 stand-up was working against Bruce. Defense lawyer Burton Marks argued that "once a San Francisco jury legitimated Lenny's act, he could not thereafter be prosecuted for performing the same act in California" but one of the Los Angeles judges, Robert Dulin, ruled that "there was no proof that the two performances—the Jazz Workshop and the Troubadour—were the same."216 The unique nature of stand-up meant that each new performance could potentially merit prosecution. Blasphemy in Chicago The Los Angeles arrest occurred in October of 1962 when the West Hollywood vice squad sent a group of undercover officers to watch Lenny Bruce perform at the Troubadour night club. In the effort to ferret out potential obscenity violations, the officials included a cultural interpreter, Sergeant Sherman Block, who had once worked at a Jewish deli and could therefore apprehend Bruce's occasional use of Yiddish. That evening, these ethnic utterances included references to sex (schtup), oral sex (fressing), and male genitalia (schmuck andputz). The words dealt with the sexual body but the censoring of Bruce's Yiddish appears foolish, as it's unclear "to what extent, if any, could unknown foreign words (schmuck, schtup) arouse prurient interest or offend community standards if the vast majority of the community did not know what those words meant?"217 It did make sense, however, if one understood that it was not only Bruce's performance of ethnicity under attack, but that his perceived assaults on Christianity were under counterattack. 216 217 Ibid., 109. Ibid., 117-18. 93 Bruce was arrested a month later, this time mid-performance in December of 1962 at the Gate of Horn nightclub in Chicago. Alongside the usual litany of purportedly obscene words, the police report included the complaint that Bruce "led into a mockery of the Catholic Church and other religious organizations by using the Pope's name and Cardinal Spellman and Bishop Sheen's name." 218 The conflation of obscenity and blasphemy is a clear example of how Bruce's critiques of the American mainstream were taken in large part as an affront to Christianity. There was additional anger that these attacks came from a non-Christian and confusion as to what Bruce's Jewishness meant, as evidence by the police translator at his Los Angeles show. One of Bruce's more provocative pieces was a lambast of organized religion entitled "Religions, Inc.," in which he portrays the Pope and other prominent Christians as crude salesmen protecting their product and exhibiting racism behind closed doors. Bruce imitates Oral Roberts in conversation with the Pope, complaining about desegregationist forces: Listen, I hate to bug you, but they're bugging us again with that dumb integration. No, I don't know why the hell they want to go to school, either. Yeah, that school bus scene. Well, we had to give them the bus, but there's two toilets on each bus. They're bugging us, they say get the religious leaders, make them talk about it. I know it, but they're getting hip. Yes, they say—no, they don't want no more quotations from the Bible. They want us to come out and say things. They want us to say "Let them go to school with them.'" No, I did walking-across-the-water and snake-into-the-cane. They don't want to hear that jazz anymore!219 Bruce endows Roberts with hip slang—"bugging," "scene," "jazz,"—which punctures the preacher's righteous aura. Bruce engages in moral jujitsu, with the dirty comic notably more invested in the cause of Civil Rights than the religious leaders. Again, it 218 219 Ibid., 158. Lenny Bruce, The Sick Humor of Lenny Bruce (1958). 94 is the one with higher social status who employs ethnic slurs without compunction. Making a joke about a religious man desiring a fancy sports car, Bruce has Roberts tell the Pope that "Billy [Graham] wants to know if you can get him a deal on one of them Dago sports cars."220 In a classic comic reversal, Roberts' final words to the Pope is the assurance that "No, nobody knows you're Jewish."221 The joke is that the paragon of Christianity is revealed as a Jew, which hints at the ubiquity of ethnic performance and plays off of the paranoia of Jewish world control—not to mention the understanding that Christ himself was a Jew, a largely unspoken fact in the 1950s. At the Gate of Horn, Bruce performed his bit "Christ and Moses," in which the two visit New York City's St. Patrick's Cathedral. Cardinal Spellman is at the pulpit talking about "Christian love." Christ is confused... at the grandeur of the interior, the baroque interior, the rocoque [sic] baroque interior. Because his route took him through Spanish Harlem, and he was wondering what the hell fifty Puerto Ricans were doing living in one room when that stained glass window is worth ten G's a square foot? And the guy had a ring worth eight grand. Why weren't the Puerto Ricans living here?222 The humor here is explicitly political; recordings show that audiences responded not just with laughter, which tends to be instinctual, but with applause, which demonstrates a conscious desire to signal agreement with the comic's sentiments. Bruce again hints that the world of race is unstable and uncertain as he questions the assumptions of Jesus's and Moses's racial identification by having Spellman, on the phone with Rome, state his answer to an unheard question: "Course they're white!"™ 1U1U. 1 Ibid. Bruce, The Essential Lenny Bruce., 58. 3 Ibid., 61. 2 95 The mere suggestion of a non-white Christ and Moses would have riled many white Christians at the time. For Bruce, the cardinal sin of racist Christians was their hypocrisy. The New York Times quoted Bruce's perspective on the situation as early as 1959, when he refuted charges of crassness as follows: I've been accused of bad taste and I'll go down to my grave accused of it and always by the same people—the ones who eat in restaurants that reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. If you can tell me Christ or Moses, for instance, would say to some kid, 'Hey, kid, that's a white fountain, you can't drink out of there,' you're out of your skull. No one can tell me Christ or Moses would do that. And people who do aren't even agnostics. They're atheists. That's where the bad taste jazz comes from.224 For Bruce, racism is incompatible with the tenets of Christianity, making "racist Christian" into an oxymoron. Bruce does not attack Christianity per se. It was dangerous enough for a non-Christian to challenge mainstream religious practices in the United States. Rather, Bruce proclaims himself as the true heir to the values of Christ and Moses. The same article closes with Bruce proclaiming that he is a "moralist" who someday wants to be a social worker, again, without hypocrisy, and therefore "anonymously... not like some of those telethons."225 Bruce conceived of Christianity, not as the paramount organizing frame for humanity, but as a smaller activity which fit into other paradigms In "Christ and Moses," Rome becomes subservient to Hollywood, as Bishop Sheen (himself a television star) can recognize Moses because he looks like Charlton Heston. Christianity becomes a capitalist venture, with the worried Sheen announcing the 224 Gilbert Millstein, "Man, It's Like Satire: Using the Argot of Hipsters and Jazz Musicians, Lenny Bruce Blows Sharp Social Comment," The New York Times, May 3, 1959. 96 arrival of Christ and Moses to Cardinal Spellman by whispering "I've got a customer in the back." Christianity consorts with the Mafia, as the indignant Spellman, on the phone to Rome, asks them to get rid of Christ and Moses: "Look, what are we paying protection for?" Christianity becomes a show business venture as, on the subject of miracles, Cardinal Spellman tells the press that he does not know whether Christ and Moses are "going to do any tricks today." Christianity becomes everything except the worship of God. The Chicago forces aligned against Bruce saw their crusade against the comic as pro-Christian and said so. This included the police, who took the job of controlling Bruce as seriously and personally as had the officers in San Francisco: Captain McDermott, the head of Chicago's vice squad, paid a visit on [the Gate of Horn nightclub owner] to deliver an official warning: "If [Bruce] ever speaks against religion, I'm going to pinch you and everyone in here. Do you understand?...[H]e mocks the Pope—and I'm speaking as a Catholic—I'm here to tell you your license is in danger."226 The presumption was that Bruce's riffs on Christianity were a challenge to all organized religion. Prosecutor Samuel Banks at Chicago trial: "You will hear the mockery of the church, not just any church, not just the Catholic Church, not just the Lutheran Church, but the church per se. You will hear mockery that is vulgar and obscene."227 Bruce's lawyer Zaidins specifically protested that the prosecution confused obscenity for blasphemy and Variety picked up on the treatment of sex as anti-religious, writing that: "The prosecutor is at least equally concerned with Bruce's Quoted in Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 149. 227 Quoted in Ibid., 158. 97 indictments of organized religion as he is with the more obvious sexual content of the comic's act."228 Shortly before his death, Bruce professed that his mistake was that he had picked on the wrong God, suggesting that he would have been free from legal harassment had he picked on Buddha or Mohammed. Bruce's Chicago performances occurred just a few weeks after Vatican II convened, but while change might have been in the wind, Bruce was an outsider threatening revolution rather than reform. The more rebellious he became, the more overt the police presence became, and Bruce accented his outsider status yet again. Sighting the police as they came to bust him in Chicago, he stated "Oh shit, [laughing]...Wake up, quick! Out the back way. The bricks move...anything. It's Super-Jew!" (perhaps a prelude to Pryor's "Super Nigger" discussed in Chapter Five). The police reply was to end the performance and demonstrate how the state defined identity much differently from stand-up comedy, announcing: "Show's over, ladies and gentlemen, police officers. Everybody have a seat....We're checking your ID cards." The Chicago jury found Bruce guilty, despite testimony that "there was no one on the premises who complained. Nobody at all."230 We gain greater understanding into the jury by looking at what happened when court convened on Ash Wednesday. The prosecutor, the judge, and all twelve jurors entered the court room with ash marks prominently displayed on their foreheads. To be fair, the judge made an equally prominent show of having the Catholics remove their religious markings in order not 228 229 230 Goldman, Ladies and Gentlemen—Lenny Bruce!!, 460. Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 147. Ibid., 173. 98 to show any prejudice to the Jewish defendant's Jewish lawyers. Bruce himself was absent, ordered to stay in Los Angeles to face felony drug charges (which are addressed briefly in the next section). The jury's judgment was upheld by the appellate court but reversed in November 1964 after the Supreme Court decided Jacobellis v. Ohio. In that case, a Cleveland movie theater owner successfully argued for the right to show the Venice Film Festival winning film The Lovers. When the appellate court reversed itself on Bruce, they grudgingly declared that: While we would not have thought that constitutional guarantees necessitate the subjection of society to the gradual deterioration of its moral fabric which this type of presentation promotes, we must concede that some of the topics commented on by defendant are of social importance....Judgment reversed.23' The court's derisive assessment of Bruce's act contains accurate recognition of some key aspects of stand-up comedy. "[TJhis type of presentation," appears to refer to a "55-minute monologue upon numerous socially controversial subjects interspersed with.. .unrelated topics," which now reads like an apt description of the genre.232 The court asserted that they had previously tried to weigh Bruce's inclusion of material of social importance against "the method" which was "so objectionable as to render the entire performance obscene" and "went beyond customary limits of candor."233 For Bruce and for stand-up, bending or breaking those limits is as fundamental to the social importance of their work as the subjects under discussion. 231 People V. Bruce,(\964). Ibid. 233 Ibid. 232 99 Performing Oneself Bruce's overt revelations of Jewishness, discussed in Chapter One, were an articulation of the previously unspoken and modeled a major function of stand-up comedy—the exposure of the unmarked through the play of taboos. In the liner notes for Togetherness, Bruce proudly quotes from a Variety article which cautioned him to be less bold: Bruce, however, makes a mistake in his comedy.. .by attacking or satirizing so broad a range of subjects that he certainly will antagonize somebody if he were to play a large enough audience. His material, as it stands, is not for public performance. He greatly needs discipline and some knowledge of rectitude.234 What Variety missed, at least on the surface level, was how Bruce's wide-ranging revelations—of his Jewishness, of perceived Christian hypocrisy, of closeted homosexual icons, of non-normative sexual practices—were the raison d'etre of his comedy and would contribute heavily to the establishment of stand-up as a site of the unveiling of the taboo. Stand-up comedy's questioning of society's mores issues from a particular individual, clearly framed as that person's opinions, which is a source of strength and weakness. The convention allows for the comic to produce a wealth of material particular to his or her individual experiences, but it also exposes the artist to attacks in a way different from those faced by traditional actors and artists whose personae are not so closely linked to their artistic output. Such was the case in Bruce's last major obscenity case. In early April, 1964, the New York District Attorney's office had Bruce arrested for performances at the Cafe Au Go Go in which he used words such as 234 Bruce, Togetherness. 100 "fuck," "shit," and "tits" while speaking about issues such as his belief that pictures in Life magazine which purported to show Jackie Kennedy turning away from her hurt husband in order to secure help, were actually evidence that she "hauled ass to save her ass."235 Brace's observations were cloaked as honest admissions of universal human frailty, but questioning the saintly courage of John F. Kennedy's widow was political dynamite in 1964. Defender Ephraim London tried to protect Bruce by pointing out that the New York obscenity statute exempted performers, but prosecutor Gerald Harris protested that this clause defined an actor as "a performer who recited material written or prepared by another."236 For some thinkers about theater, there is no role for stand-up within the traditional theater of realism, and Michael Chekhov states outright that "[t]here are no parts which can be considered so-called 'straight' parts or parts in which the actor always shows his audience the same 'type'—himself as he is in private life.... An actor cannot give his audience new revelations by unvaryingly displaying only himself on the stage."237 In traditional theater, Bert States informs us, "the / of the actor is not at all the / of the character he is playing,"238 but with stand-up, the part portrayed is an exaggerated stage version of the off-stage self and the I's are frequently aligned, conflated, and equated. The I's coalesce in that they all revolve around the performance of identity. The Trials of Lenny Bruce. Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 216. 237 Michael Chekhov, To the Actor: On the Technique of Acting (Harper & Row, 1953), 85. 238 Bert O. States, "The Actor's Presence: Three Phenomenal Modes," in Acting (Re)Considered, ed. Phillip B. Zarrilli (New York and London: Routledge, 1995), 23. 236 101 The practical and critical ramifications for Bruce were huge. As interpreted by Collins and Skover, "By this definition, if someone else were to perform verbatim Lenny's transcribed gig, vulgarities and all, that person (unlike Lenny) would be exempt from prosecution. In other words, anybody but Lenny could perform his act."239 Harris's logic suggests that stand-up comics are somehow outside the realm of traditional performance because they are not far enough removed from their subject material. Stand-up comedy's deviation from traditional theater was treated as legally deviant. Having denied Bruce the status of artist, the New York court then conversely proceeded to deny Bruce the right to present his own work—which, when it comes to stand-up comedy, meant denying Bruce the right to perform as himself. The court separated the speech from the body by having star witness Inspector Herbert Ruhe recreate Bruce's act for the court, utilizing the notes on which he had jotted particularly egregious phrases. Bruce feared that Ruhe's performance of Bruce's act would condemn Bruce.240 Overruling objections, Judge Murtagh refused to strike Ruhe's testimony. Bruce appeared to recognize that the prosecution of stand-up put him in an unusual bind. In a letter to the United States District Court for the Eastern District of New York, delivered on November 24, 1964, he despaired how: "It is not as if a particular playlet or particular book had been declared obscene and the author was free to perform other playlets or write other books. The ideas I have are now imprisoned Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 216. Nat Hentoff, Free Speech for Me-butNotfor Thee (New York: HarperCollins, 1992), 329. 102 within me, and unless this Court acts, will not be permitted expression."241 According to legal scholars Collins and Skover, "[i]n the history of New York, this was the first prosecution concerning spoken words in a nightclub."242 By this point, Bruce could conceive of no other means by which to express his opinions. Stand-up comedy, a place of public construction of private individual, was becoming a vehicle for the self-examination of Lenny Bruce. After his first performance in San Francisco following the initial obscenity bust, Bruce stated: "I wasn't very funny tonight. Sometimes I'm not. I'm not a comedian, I'm Lenny Bruce."243 He was conflicted about the differences. When it functions, stand-up allows one to be both a public performer and a private person. The law spun Bruce in so many circles that, in the words of his lawyer Edward de Grazia, Bruce "lost his sense of reality and no longer knew where he and his art left off and the rest of the world and the law began."244In this light we see that it would have been difficult for Bruce to end his career other than he did, discoursing about his legal woes on-stage, reading transcripts aloud. The Village Voice described one such performance: Deeper and deeper Bruce went, declaiming decisions, citing citations, lecturing on the law until it became impossible to tell when Bruce was quoting Justice Holmes, or quoting Justice Roberts quoting and commenting on Justice Holmes, or when Bruce himself was quoting and commenting on Justice Roberts quoting and commenting on Justice Holmes.245 Stand-up depends on the cannibalization of one's own life but comedy relies on sufficient distance, so when one's on-stage life becomes the constant subject of off241 Quoted in Goldman, Ladies and Gentlemen—Lenny Bruce!!, 565-66. Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 229. 243 Ibid., 23. 244 Ibid., 24. 245 Ibid., 306. 242 103 stage prosecution, a Kafkanian feedback loop emerges. The government pressure disallowed the requisite distance required in order for the comic to be able to translate his individual life to the larger group. Regardless of whether Bruce was convicted in any of the assorted obscenity cases, the government intimidation and censorship was losing him money, time, and bookings. In her book Excitable Speech, Judith Butler explains how: [c]ensorship is a productive form of power: it is not merely privative, but formative as well. I propose that censorship seeks to produce subjects according to explicit and implicit norms, and that the production of the subject has everything to do with the regulation of speech. The subject's production takes place not only through the regulation of that subject's speech, but through the regulation of the social domain of speakable discourse. The question is not what it is I will be able to say, but what will constitute the domain of the sayable within which I begin to speak at all. To become a subject means to be subjected to a set of implicit and explicit norms that govern the kind of speech that will be legible as the speech of a subject.246 Stand-up comedy magnifies Butler's general principle for the production of a speaking subject. In the specifics of stand-up, the subject speaks back against the censor, with Bruce a prime example of this process. What the censorship of Bruce did, therefore, was not just censor his current speech but reveal the unspoken censorship that had been taking place in nightclubs prior to Bruce standing up and speaking out. Attacked as he was for the words he uttered, it may be understandable that Bruce saw free speech as a panacea, putting his faith in its libratory effect. Such unbounded optimism actually wound up exposing the limits of his speech acts. This was the case in his routine "Are There Any Niggers Here, Tonight?," in which Bruce Butler, Excitable Speech: A Politics of the Performative, 133. 104 argues that a repetition of the N-word could actually empty it of the hate which has accrued to the word over centuries: [Casually:] Uh, by the way, are there any niggers here tonight? [In mock response to himself, imitating an imagined audience member:] Phew, what did he say? Why—is he really getting out of his nut? Are there any niggers here tonight? What is he, that desperate for shock value? Did he scrape the bottom of the barrel to be that cruel to say "are there any niggers here tonight?" Have I ever talked about the shvarts when they left the room [inaudible] or placated some southerner with the absence of voice when he ranted and raved about the nigger-niggerniggers? Are there any niggers here? [As himself:] You know I'm working with a nigger. Ah, I think I see one nigger couple back there. Between those two niggers sit three kikes. Phew, thank God for the kikes. And two spies, and one mick. We have two spies, one mick, three kikes, and one spunky-funky-honky. Any more boogies? Three more sheenies, eight more guineas, six guineas, seven wops, six greaseballs. I pass with six dykes, four kikes, and eight niggers. [Applause] The point. If President Kennedy got on television every day and said I would like to introduce all the niggers in my cabinet and all the niggers called each other niggers—they oft times do, but in front of the ofays—and every day you heard nigger nigger nigger nigger nigger, in the second month nigger would mean as much as "good night" or "god bless you" when you sneeze or perhaps as much as "I promise to hold the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help me God." Nigger would lose its impact and they'd never make any four-year-old nigger cry when he came home from school. Zug gornisht [Say nothing] gives i 247 it the power. While the sexual taboos Bruce employed have lost much of their shock value over the decades, the impact of the N-word has not. The N-word does not risk obscenity here, as it is not sexual, but it also differs from Bruce's sexual terms in that it acquired meanings through a history of repetition, of public use and re-use, rather than a history of censorship and silence. Bruce attempts to defuse the word, to disinfect it by putting it under the spotlight, and to reduce its pained history by making it mundane. Bruce, Lenny Bruce: Let the Buyer Beware. 105 Does Bruce's progressive political intent justify his use of the word? In his book nigger: the Strange Career of a Troublesome Word, Randall Kennedy argues that "[w]hat should matter is the context in which the word is spoken—the speaker's aims, effects, alternatives. To condemn whites who use the N-word without regard to context is simply to make a fetish of nigger."248 Such an outlook suggests that Bruce can be credited for trying to subvert the word, however, the audience in front of which he utters it the N-word is majority white and, as described in Chapter One, Bruce has a problematic history of believing that he could speak on behalf of Blacks. One could also argue that by repeating the N-word, Bruce actually repeats the error of the state by removing a word from its context. Just as his routine at the Jazz Workshop needs to be taken as a whole in order to realize that Bruce is not using the term "cocksucker" to incite a sexual reaction, one cannot remove the hate embedded in the N-word by somehow severing it from its history. Stand-up demonstrates that language is not abstracted from the act of saying. The N-word may be the most obvious case, which helps explain the prevalence of its use in stand-up comedy. Bruce's work with the N-word comes across as naive, a demonstration that stand-up works best when the comic speaks in the language of their own lived experience. When it does work, the norm is decentered and tension released through laughter. When it doesn't work, it can simply reinforce traditional stereotypes and blindly repeat injurious language, as Michael Richards did in November 2006 with his infamous outburst at the West Hollywood Laugh Factory. Heckled by a multiracial group in the crowd, Richards assailed them with the N-word. Cell phone video 248 Randall Kennedy, Nigger: The Strange Career of a Troublesome Word (New York: Pantheon Books, 2002), 41. 106 of the event shows that the crowd is uncertain what is transpiring, as they possibly wait for Richards to reveal that his use of the word is part of a stand-up routine. Paul Mooney, of the major African American comics to have deployed the N-word onstage, recognized that Richards may have been "trying to channel Lenny Bruce" and other comics, including Mooney himself.249 Both audiences and performers have been trained by Bruce to know that the stand-up stage is a site for the investigation of taboo language and racial stereotypes, but Richards use of the word is impossible to distinguish from a blatant racial attack and Mooney was so taken aback that he dropped the word from his own act. Bruce foreshadows later attempts by comedians such as Richard Pryor, Paul Mooney, and Chris Rock to tackle the N-word and attempts to resignify the epithet along the lines Butler suggests for situating injurious speech: An aesthetic enactment of an injurious word may both use the word and mention it, that is, make use of it to produce certain effects but also at the same time make reference to that very use, calling attention to it as a citation, situating that use within a citational legacy, making that use into an explicit discursive item to be reflected on rather than a taken for granted operation of ordinary language. Or, it may be that an aesthetic reenactment uses that word, but also displays it, points to it, outlines it as the arbitrary material instances of language that is exploited to produce certain kinds of effects. In this sense, the word as a material signifier is foregrounded as semantically empty in itself, but as that empty moment in language that can become the site of semantically compounded legacy and effect. This is not to say that the word loses its power to injure, but that we are given the word in such a way that we can begin to ask: how does a word become the site for the power to injure?250 249 Darryl Fears, "The Word That Is the Very Definition of Unspeakable: Black Entertainer Endorses Moratorium on Slur," The Washington Post, December 2, 2006. 250 Butler, Excitable Speech: A Politics of the Performative, 99-100. 107 Bruce's bold attempt to call attention to the N-word and rid it of signification but may suggest that he does not have understood the depth of its history. One could argue that Bruce, not having the requisite lived experience of blackness, could not comprehend the word's context. He wasn't "appropriating the very terms by which one has been abused in order to deplete the term of its degradation or to derive an affirmation from that degradation"; he was choosing on his own to speak out on behalf of others as an ally.251 Bruce argued that his words were not what they represented, that to say the word "toilet" is not the same as to present an actual toilet to the world. While it is true that words do not have a one-to-one correlation with objects in the world, there is little doubt that Bruce relies upon the sedimentation of signification that the words acquire over time in order to power his act. Speech acts have an impact. The N-word, for example, is commonly used as hate speech. The term "cocksucker" can, in certain contexts, actually be used to incite lasciviousness. Bruce's use of language attempts to have it both ways, to challenge the norm and therefore risk obscenity, and yet to simultaneously deny the possibility of obscenity. Even more than what he said, however, he was punished for his medium of choice. The Illinois Supreme Court admitted that, in the words of Collins, "it was not punishing Lenny for what he said (that would be unconstitutional), but rather for how he said it...While ideas could not be regulated, certainly the manner in which they were presented could be."252 251 252 Ibid., 158. Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 182. 108 Epilogue: Sick Humor The intensity and frequency of the government prosecution suggested that Bruce went beyond mere irreverence or bad taste. At the New York trial, the prosecution called a witness who characterized Bruce's brand of humor as pathological. The Reverend Potter testified that: [t]here is only one community I can think of where this would be acceptable, and that would be in the back wards of the Rochester State Hospital, in the mental hospital, where persons for the most part go get on stumps and speak in this kind of random, irrational way and primarily employing filthy and vulgar words and playing on them for the sake of playing on them. This is tolerated....They let them babble on.253 Potter's speech is extreme but the basics align with the case of the state: language such as Bruce's was unacceptable, random, irrational, and vulgar. To open up a site such as stand-up comedy is to let loose the mentally ill and infirm. Potter was not the first to diagnose Bruce as sick. Indeed, the designation of "sick humor" was first applied to 1950s joke cycles making their way through the playgrounds and board rooms of the United States. Time noted the phenomenon in 1957: "Called variously sick stories, gruesome jokes or Bloody Marys, these gags get their laughs by making fun of decapitations, amputation, disease, death," including the now notorious quip "Apart from that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play?"254 Released the following year, Bruce's The Sick Humor of Lenny Bruce played selfconsciously with the trend, including the track "Non Skeddo Flies Again," a satire of airplane bombers in which one of the pilots flies drunk because he "don't dig height" and the bit ends when a young boy is cajoled into walking out the door and falling to 253 254 Ibid., 277. "Bloody Mary, Anyone?," Time, October 21, 1957, 27. 109 his death so as to reduce the passenger load of the plane.255 As reflected by the irony of the album's title, Bruce appears to treat in jest the suggestion that his humor denotes true sickness. On a track entitled "Psychopathia Sexualis," Bruce blends sick humor with beat poetry, mocking both with his dry opening, the proclamation: "Poetry and jazz. Psychopathia Sexualis, I'm in love with a horse that comes from Dallas. Poor neurotica me."256 Sick humor delights in the breeching of societal taboo and the revelation of cultural obsessions, but in retrospect, this track comes off as a goof, complete with playful use of the latest studio techniques involving reverb and echoes. Even Time noted in its 1957 article that sick humor might be cyclical rather than a sign of the decline of Western civilization, acknowledging that every generation has its variety of shocking jokes. Time had changed its indulgent attitude by 1959, when the magazine published an article entitled "The Sickniks," about a new breed of comedians accused of negativity and attacks on "motherhood, childhood, adulthood, sainthood."257 Use of the Yiddish suffix "nik" hinted at the Jewish background of many of these comics, as well as gesturing to the Soviet satellite Sputnik and the appellation for the counterculture beatniks. Time considered Bruce "[pjerhaps the most successful" of a group pioneered by Mort Sahl and including Jonathan Winters and Shelley Berman.258 The label of "sick humor" emphasized the shock value of the new humor but elided the performative differences between the comics. Berman hailed from the Chicago group 255 Bruce, The Sick Humor of Lenny Bruce. Ibid. 257 "The Sickniks," Time, July 13, 1959. 258 My introduction largely credits Sahl for the invention of modern stand-up comedy; Winters and Berman were more in the tradition of character actors playing other personalities than themselves. 256 110 improv scene and released his first album, Inside Shelley Berman, in 1959. Berman presented some scenes based on his personal life, but was more of a traditional comic actor, constructing scenes with characters who could have been played by anyone else with the requisite technical chops. This is a key division between stand-up comedy and improvisatory troupes such as Berman's The Second City, where characters would be both invented and passed around among the actors. Winters was a hybrid between the old and new comedy, wowing audiences with his stunning mimicry and the creation of outlandish characters, but also fascinating fans by allowing glimpses into his personal life, most notably with his mental breakdowns. Insofar as these collapses remained off-stage, he was a professional comedian of an older school. None of the others explored race and ethnicity to the degree of Bruce nor, with the possible exception of Sahl, did they incorporate his performance of self. Rather than asking what sick humor is in itself, it may be more valuable to consider what critics and audiences perceive to be sick humor. Bruce made a point that the good old days of comedy which preceded him were not so clean after all and that his humor, in contrast, had a moral slant and did not target physical disabilities. He cited specific comedians such as Joe E. Lewis, who found humor in heavy drinking, and Henny Youngman, whose one-liners about ugly girls were considered comedy classics. Bruce criticized Jerry Lewis for perpetuating racial stereotypes without questioning them, writing sardonically how Lewis's neorealistic impression of the Japanese male captured all the subtleties of the Japanese physiognomy. The buck-teeth malocclusion was caricatured to surrealistic proportions until the teeth matched the blades that extended from Ben-Hur's chariot. Highlighting the absence of the 111 iris with Coke-bottle-thick lenses, this satire has added to the fanatical devotion which Japanese students have for the United States.259 Bruce reminded the readers of his autobiography that Time magazine was itself guilty of finding humor in physical shortcomings and had written that "Shelly Berman has a face like a hastily sculptured hamburger."26" The so-called "health comic," therefore, was one who never offended "unless you happen to be fat, bald, skinny, deaf or blind."261 Bruce's sickness was that he did not attack those whom society considered already sick, but those held up as near-perfect specimens. Bruce's humor attempted to re-diagnose the societal body. His main exemplar of sickness was racism. In his routine "The Kid in the Well," he opines that this is what I call over-emotionalism. There's a kid who's stuck in a well and the headlines scream for six days Child Trapped in Well: Nation Awaits in Vigil. In the meanwhile, you can go in any cosmopolitan city and still see in the classifieds: Orientals may buy here. Negroes may buy here, and one schmuck gets caught in the well and everybody stays up for a week. Bruce professes to his audience in "The Tribunal" that the mixed-up morals of society are what "is really sick to me. That's the kind of sick material that I wish Time had written about." His humor is not so much sick on its own as it is a confrontation critique of a sick state of affairs. The prevalence of race and ethnicity in Bruce's work and the later purveyors of stand-up comedy is partially due to the stand-up's role as a cultural analyst of deep-seated pain and sickness and the fact that there continues to be no bigger wound in the United States than that of racism. Bruce was not sick so much as he revealed sickness. 259 Bruce, How to Talk Dirty and Influence People, 98. Ibid., 99. 261 Ibid. 260 112 In this context, vulgarity is needed for an honest analysis, in order to confront the everyday world and its sickness. Epithets occasionally obscured Bruce's more revolutionary work in establishing a forum from which to diagnose the country. Brian Glanville wrote in The Spectator that Bruce has taken humour farther, and deeper, than any of the new wave of American comedians.. .Indeed, the very essence of the new wave is that one hears an individual voice talking, giving vent to its own perception and, in Bruce's case, its own obsessions....it is not 'sick' humour.. .but super-ego humour.262 Glanville's analysis captures both Bruce and the potential Bruce manifested in standup comedy. For some cultural critics, there was a sense that the comedy landscape was changing, but uncertainty of how long the trend would last, and what its lasting characteristics could be. Writing in The New York Times in May 1959, Gilbert Millstein characterized Bruce as "[t]he newest and, in some ways, most scarifyingly funny proponent of significance, all social and some political, to be found in a night club these days...a sort of abstract-expressionist stand-up comedian."263 Some of Millstein's unease appears to stem from what was key to the new medium, such as the use of personal material to address societal issues, and he makes a point that Bruce actually wrote all of his new material, the truth of which matters less than what the necessity of its appearance says about the form's requirements. Indeed, the concept of "stand-up comedian" is so nascent that the use of the term here pre-dates by eight Goldman, Ladies and Gentlemen—Lenny Bruce!! ,418. Millstein, "Man, It's Like Satire: Using the Argot of Hipsters and Jazz Musicians, Lenny Bruce Blows Sharp Social Comment." 263 113 years the first listing found in the Oxford English Dictionary,2M although the New York Times employed the term as early as 1954.265 We can glean Bruce's influence on stand-up comedy in part from how his attributes became the ones emulated in the form. Time aims their indictment at the culture surrounding Bruce, admitting that "audiences unquestionably laugh at Bruce," but adding that this is although "much of the time he merely shouts angrily and tastefully at the way of the world."266 They attack Bruce for his jokes about leaders, both political—specifically, Dwight Eisenhower—and religious—quoting Bruce's joke that religious leaders '"have missed the boat. 'Thou shall not kill' they say, and then one of them walks comfortingly to the death chamber with Caryl Chessman."267 Time does not come out and say exactly what they consider "tasteless" about this joke. Perhaps it is the suspect concept that one should not use comedy to address issues of consequence and it appears that Bruce breaches etiquette simply by applying comedy to serious ideas. He then rubs salt into these sensitivities by suggesting hypocrisy on the part of the moral luminaries of the United States. The fact that his apparent bitterness is the issue, with no mention made of his use of profanity, suggesting that the establishment was upset with Bruce's attacks before they began attacking him for his specific word choices. In December of 2003, thirty-seven years after his death, Lenny Bruce (192566) received the first posthumous pardon in the history of New York State when 264 "Stand-up, A. And N." Lohman, "News and Notes from the Television and Radio Studios." 266 "The Sickniks." 267 Caryl Chessman (1921-60) was convicted and sentenced to death in California for being the rapist and robber known as The Red Light Bandit. Many believe Chessman to be innocent of these crimes; in 1977 his case was made into a TV movie starring Alan Alda. 265 114 Governor George Pataki cleared the comic of a 1964 misdemeanor conviction received after two performances at Greenwich Village's Cafe Au Go Go. Pataki described the move as "a declaration of New York's commitment to upholding the First Amendment," and this is how Bruce is best remembered, as a free speech martyr prosecuted for introducing words such as "cocksucker," "motherfucker," and the (now) prosaic "fuck" to the lexicon of American public performance. Bruce's legacy is that critiques of societal norms have come to be expected in the numerous comedy clubs which sprang up in the decades after his death in 1966. As well as a forum in which the overt expression of ethnicity is now common, stand-up has become the major site of taboo-baring comedy, where we allow obscenity to be confronted in ways that allow it to be both dismantled and reinforced. 115 Chapter Three: "Standing Up Black: Dick Gregory and Bill Cosby" "Whatever the causes of black laughter, whatever its effects, whether it was celebrated or lamented, the degree of attention Negro intellectuals accorded it was a manifest sign of its pervasiveness. Laughter, of course, springs from many sources. Central among them is the desire to place the situation in which we find ourselves into perspective; to exert some degree of control over our environment. The need to laugh at our enemies, our situation, ourselves, is a common one, but it often exists the most urgently in those who exert the least power over their immediate environment; in those who have the most objective reason for feelings of hopelessness. It is this that gives meaning to the proverb of East European Jews who lived on such intimate terms with poverty, prejudice, and pogroms: "Suffering makes you laugh too."268 —Lawrence W. Levine "Comedy was the original form of entertainment that black families created in order to survive."269 —Dick Gregory Prologue Lenny Bruce ensconced race and ethnicity as part of the practice and subject matter of stand-up comedy. After his work, the absence of African Americans in the burgeoning new art form became particularly glaring. Of course, the exclusion of black voices was common in an era of officially sanctioned segregation and apartheid rules. On the political front, the decision in Brown vs. Board of Education was not handed down until May of 1954, the Montgomery Bus boycotts took place in 1955 and 1956, and the Voting Rights Act was not signed until August 1965, just a year Lawrence W. Levine, Black Culture and Black Consciousness (New York: Oxford University Press, 1977), 300. 269 Dick Gregory, "Foreword," in African American Humor: The Best Black Comedy from Slavery to Today, ed. Mel Watkins (Chicago: Lawrence Hill Books, 2002), xi. 116 before Lenny Bruce's death. The advent of African American stand-up comics was not inevitable—the medium could have grown as hostile and unwelcoming to black artists as it has remained to most women, who have never had equivalent success as male comics on the national stand-up stage.270 In the 1960s and 1970s, a series of three comedians—Dick Gregory (b. 1932), Bill Cosby (b. 1937), and Richard Pryor (b. 1940)—established the stand-up stage as a space for first-hand black voices, speaking for themselves and their communities in front of integrated audiences. Dick Gregory and Bill Cosby introduced black comedy to the integrated main stage in the early 1960s, each of them pioneering a model of how African American comics could intervene in a racial discussion within comedy that had been initiated by non-blacks. Dick Gregory became the first to break the so-called color barrier. Never a star in the African American vaudeville houses known collectively as the Chitlin' Circuit,271 Gregory blended gentle generic jokes with sharp social critique, carefully calibrating humor and one-line structure to make some very pointed barbs under cover of congeniality, before his anger burst into direct political activism off-stage. Bill Cosby quickly followed up as stand-up's first superstar, successful in large part because he approached race by eliminating direct references to it from his act. While negotiating their act with multi-racial audiences, Gregory and Cosby found My related article "The Stand-up as Stand-in: Performer-Audience Intimacy and the Emergence of the Stand-up Comic in the United States since the 1950s" goes into greater detail about the historical struggles of female comics in the field of stand-up comedy. The gist of my argument is that the process of personalization cultivated by these key male stand-ups has often worked against the acceptance of female comedians by resistant audiences, as well as by club owners and bookers. The article is due to be published by Parlor Press in an upcoming anthology on live comedy audiences, edited by Judith Batalion. 271 NB footnote 5. 117 performative solutions for dealing with the legacy of blacks and humor in the United States. Setting the Stage: Before Gregory Asking the question, "Where does humor fit in the blood-stained history of the black American?," William Schechter answers that "[i]t has been important in its use as a survival tool during slavery, significant in its role in hardening stereotypes that have perpetuated racial intolerance from the antebellum period, and useful in the insights provided in the changing psyche of the black American."272 This is a fair amount of weight to place on a method of operating which many view as essentially light-hearted, despite its perennial popularity and ubiquity. Schechter is not alone in his belief in the power of humor; in the words of Lawrence Levine, "no other mechanism in Afro-American expressive culture was more effective than humor in exposing the absurdity of the American racial system and in releasing pent-up black aggression toward it."273 That is, black humor has been both revelatory and a release, a pleasurable acting out that often speaks to pain, and a pastime employed to help process the burden of history while surviving in the present. Humor, present in all cultures and eras, plays a heightened role in the formidable historical circumstances of African Americans. Black laughter has a tangled and variegated history in the United States, interpreted by some outside observers as evidence of a carefree inner nature, while 272 William Schechter, The History of Negro Humor in America (New York and London: Fleet Press Corporation, 1970), 20. 273 Levine, Black Culture and Black Consciousness, 335. 118 seen by many on the inside as "a balm against oppression" even if it was "also a force that would help perpetuate racism through a stereotyping of blacks."274 The most common form of stereotype was the minstrel, a black man portrayed by a white performer in blackface, a mask which was eventually adopted out of professional necessity by black entertainers who found that their stereotyped image had preceded them to the stage. Minstrelsy was a hugely popular form of mass entertainment for around one hundred years, beginning in the 1830s, with a legacy that continues to taint the charged relationship between humor and blackness. In the decades leading up to the emergence of stand-up comedy, African American comics still had to deal with the historical weight of blackface, which frequently trapped them inside the broad stylings of stereotype and obstructed the performance of individuality that is so essential to standing up. Stand-up comedy's construction of the individual within the socio-political context of the United States was a combination that called out for the entrance of black comedians, even as the history of segregation and slavery made their entrance onto the stand-up stage particularly tough. The minstrel mask stood as a barrier between performer and character, as well as performer and audience. As Ralph Ellison emphasizes, "the mask was the thing (the 'thing' in more ways than one) and its function was to veil the humanity of negroes thus reduced to a sign, and to repress the white audience's awareness of its moral identification with its own acts and with the human ambiguities behind the mask."275 The dropping of the minstrel mask therefore overlapped the move Schechter, The History of Negro Humor in America, 11. Ralph Ellison, Shadow and Act (New York City: Vintage Books, 1953, 1964), 49. 119 from vaudevillian artifice toward a more intimate comedy which embraced exactly that humanity and ambiguity. One of the first to discard blackface was Chitlin Circuit performer Sam Theard (known as Spo-Dee-O-Dee, best remembered as the author of "(I'll Be Glad When You're Dead) You Rascal You" and most active as a comedian in Harlem in the 1930s and '40s). Theard regarded with regret that, "[w]hen you went out after the show without it on, no one would recognize you."276 The absence of fame while off-stage points to the difficulty of representing anything other than stock interchangeable characters when in blackface. Unlike actors, stand-ups cannot afford to submerge themselves into a series of temporary roles as the characters are ostensible versions of selves. The practice of blackface finally phased out in the 1940s, a move precipitated by performers such as dancer-actor-comedian Timmie Rogers, who later stated that he "knew the time had come when a black comedian could be accepted by an audience other than the black one."277 Given the autobiographical nature of the form, this acceptance was absolutely necessary for the advent of black stand-up comics. Prominent African American joke-tellers in the era immediately preceding Dick Gregory included Moms Mabley (1894-1975) and Redd Foxx (1922-1991), who were both comic actors and joke-tellers in the vaudevillian tradition—enormously talented but with a significantly smaller personal component to their comedy. Mabley was a regular at the Apollo theater in Harlem from the 1930s to the 1960s, adopting Redd Foxx and Norma Miller, The Redd Foxx Encyclopedia of Black Humor (Pasadena, California: Ward Ritchie Press, 1977), 98. 277 Ibid., 116. 120 what Mel Watkins calls "the character of an elderly earth mother." Later in her career—after the advent of stand-up comedy made such a move possible—she would merge the man-hungry older woman character with her own persona. Watkins notes that "she foreshadowed the shift to direct social commentary and stand-up comic techniques that would define humor by the late fifties," but the telephone call skits he cites focus on the classic foibles of an extrinsic and detachable character, a naive and crotchety elder conversing on the phone with famous people, but without relying upon actual details from Mabley's private life.279 Richard Pryor's character Mudbone is a throwback to this tradition of comic acting, but always speaks to us framed within the context of the personal and personable Pryor directly addressing his audience. Foxx, best remembered for his starring role on the 1970s sitcom Sanford and Son,28" honed his craft in nightclubs and on the Chitlin' Circuit after World War II. He frequently teamed with Slappy White in the early 1950s, not unusual given that the Circuit's most common comedy format was that of the comic duo, which emphasized acting ability and downplayed the use of direct audience address in preference of onstage conversations between performers. Foxx gained initial fame through his racy party albums, starting with Laffofthe Party in 1955, and in 1960 made what Mel Watkins calls his "first important appearance as a single act in a white club at the Crescendo in Hollywood." Coming the year before Gregory's breakthrough, Foxx's "crossover" had less impact because it lay outside the realm of stand-up comedy. Foxx was a supremely accomplished teller of jokes, particularly of the raunchy kind, but 278 Watkins, On the Real Side: A History of African American Comedy, 391. Ibid., 393. 280 NBC, 1972-77. 281 Watkins, On the Real Side: A History of African American Comedy, 514. 279 121 even at the height of his success on television, he did not play upon audience interest in the actor's personal life, but hammed it up as a broad and irascible old man. Multiple entertainers attacked the glass ceiling that held back black comics. As Gregory himself points out in his 1964 autobiography nigger, Nipsey Russell, a monologist and joke teller known for his comic poems, pushed boundaries by playing white vaudeville houses, and was already playing to Gregory's audiences in clubs on the South Side of Chicago, although his main venues consisted of the last of the Chitlin Circuit. Russell did not do the personal material required of stand-up, but did perform without blackface. When describing African American comedians who tried to escape the old look, critic Gilbert Millstein recounts the tale of Timmie Rogers arriving for a gig at a Sunset Strip place in a dinner jacket only to be informed that he had to put on his old "green-and-red zoot suit costume" or be fired—which he was.282 Again, the dinner jacket uniform represented the old school of vaudeville and the Chitlin' Circuit rather than the less formal stand-up comedy epitomized by Mort Sahl and his sweater vest. The absence of black representation was vast enough that Gregory would feel confident stating point-blank that "No celebrated black comedians influenced me—because there were none."283 Dick Gregory: Cracking the Color Line Dick Gregory was the greatest, and he was the first... Somebody had to break down that door.284 —Richard Pryor 282 Gilbert Millstein, "A Negro Says It with Jokes," The New York Times. Gregory, "Foreword," xii. 284 Robert Chalmers, "Dick Gregory: Mr Incredible," The Independent, December 19, 2004, 93-95. 283 122 Dick Gregory made his debut at Chicago's Playboy Club on January 13, 1961, fourteen years after Jackie Robinson broke into the major leagues with the Brooklyn Dodgers and seven years before Thurgood Marshall became a United States Supreme Court Justice. Comedy historian Gerald Nachman writes that Gregory's premiere "seemed a logical step in the racial revolt of the fifties and sixties."285 Nonetheless, it took a last-minute cancellation by a white comic ("Professor" Irwin Corey) to prompt an agent to call in Gregory. Furthermore, when Gregory showed up at the club having run twenty blocks after taking the wrong bus, the club's manager wanted to pay Gregory to go home, as the audience consisted mainly of frozen food executives from the South who were unlikely to accept a black comic. This fear seems to be specific to comedians, as black jazz musicians and singers, including a 19-year-old Aretha Franklin, were already performing at the club without being warned away.286 As a tale of individual triumph, Gregory's debut story combines fortuity (filling in for a cancellation, reminiscent of Lenny Bruce's beginning) and irony (the southerners are won over by his self-deprecation). Gregory writes in his autobiography that he only performed that evening because he was "so cold and so mad and so broke."287 Almost two years later, Newsweek could look back with equanimity and pronounce how, that evening, Gregory "was an immediate hit—and Jim Crow died in the joke world."288 Nevertheless, it had taken a perfect storm to break that barrier. 285 Nachman, Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s, 482. Sean Parnell, "Playboy Club in Memoriam: Chicago Bar Project," http://www.chibarproject.com/Memoriam/PlayboyClub/PlayboyClub.htm. 287 Gregory, Nigger, 142. 288 "Theater: 'Where Else?'," Newsweek, December 24, 1962. 286 123 Bruce was already speaking about race and ethnicity while onstage, the social topics given a sharper political edge through the personalization of the material, whereas Gregory initially trod a safer line, mixing several different comic traditions. He told many generic jokes utilizing the more concise structure of vaudeville, issuing quips such as: "Just my luck, bought a suit with two pair of pants today.. .burnt a hole in the jacket."289 He studied white joke books to see what would go over well with white audiences, but then adjusted the humor to fit his personality and perspective. We can hear this in the anti-IRS humor which opens his first album, In Living Black & White (1961). It starts as a very basic anti-tax joke, presupposing a shared antagonism: "I'd like to thank you very wonderful people in the audience who have talked about my act and come back and bring your friends with you. And through doing this you've pushed me right up into the eyes of the Internal Revenue."290 The mere mention of being audited garners a collective laugh, and it is only later that Gregory reveals the racial aspects of the situation, of the IRS agents sitting in his house wanting to talk with him about the black boxer Joe Louis while Gregory pretends ignorance: "Sit there two hours talking about Joe Louis. And I make like I don't know who Joe Louis is. And the guy believed it! He say, you mean you never heard about Joe Louis, never? I said, oh yeah, yeah, you talking about the tax consultant."291 Much of the innovation lies in how Gregory takes a generic white middle class anti-tax comedy line and shows it to be both universal (establishing that the IRS goes after all wage-earners) and , Nigger, 132. Dick Gregory, In Living Black & White (Colpix, 1961). ' Ibid. 0 124 specific (pointing out how black taxpayers are treated differently). It is a hybrid humor, establishing a beach front within stand-up for a consciously black humor. Gregory adopted Mort SahPs model of the humorist who performs self-written commentary on current events. Contemporaneous accounts lauded Gregory's intellect and productivity. Arthur Gelb's New York Times description informed readers how Gregory "reads a minimum often newspapers daily, runs up a monthly telephone bill of $1,200 calling friends all over the country to ask, 'What's new?,' and writes thirty to forty new jokes every day."292 The need to accent Gregory's intelligence has a patronizing tinge to it, but reminds us how establishment critics now placed a distinct premium on comedians with command of the latest political happenings, who sought ways to voice their own personal opinions. The widespread acceptance of Dick Gregory as the "first major breakthrough black comedian" recognizes how he engaged in a new mode of comedy.293 The statement also privileges white audiences insofar as it implies that a comedian's acceptance from the dominant racial group is a prerequisite for success. To be sure, Gregory, Cosby, and Pryor all consciously sought the financial and critical rewards made possible by playing audiences with a significant white contingent. Because of his unprecedented position and isolation in the spotlight, Gregory was often viewed as emblematic of all blacks, consistently asked by journalists to be an authority on Civil Rights, a presupposition that would continue to face later black comedians including Bill Cosby and Richard Pryor. 292 Arthur Gelb, "Comic, Back at Blue Angel, Proves He Is a Durable Talent," The New York Times, September 14, 1961. 293 Nachman, Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s, 482. Stand-up is particularly prone to presenting individuals as racial representatives because it isolates the solo body. This can accent the tension between the person as a supposed proxy for their race against the opportunity for the comic to articulate their individuality. In addition, the subject of stage entertainment in the United States had already been the black man. Talking about minstrel dancing, Eric Lott has pointed to "the male body as the primary site of the power of 'blackness' for whites."294 Some black comedians had subverted the stereotyped roles they were forced to play, including Antigua-born Bert Williams, star of Vaudeville and Broadway, who undercut racial prejudices by wringing unexpected subtlety and nuance out of the minstrel stereotype. Gregory's situation was more precarious than that of Sahl and Bruce if only because he did not have the option to attempt to pass racially, the half-veiled dance performed by many Jewish entertainers. Gregory was able to write his own lines and perform with his own bodies, but his unspoken stage partner was the blackface minstrel of yore. Gregory appeared aware of this heritage and, even though Sahl had pioneered stand-up comedy, Gregory took care to object to comparisons between the two, telling one audience in 1961: "You see, I wish you'd read all the papers, you know, you've been reading these local papers, you know, calling me the Negro Mort Sahl. You have to read them Congo papers and see where they calling Mort Sahl the white Dick Gregory."295 Gregory implied that, in their zeal to fit him into what was already known, critics ignored alternate perspectives and histories as well as overlooking what Eric Lott, Love & Theft: Blackface Minstrelsy and the American Working Class (New York City: Oxford University Press, 1995), 116. 295 Gelb, "Comic, Back at Blue Angel, Proves He Is a Durable Talent." Gregory might be doing that was original.296 Gregory had to demand to be the central figure in his own stage act, rather than be seen as the black version of a well-known white comic. He opined that: "Ever since I been on the Jack Paar Show, everybody's been asking me what is Jack Paar really like. I'm trying to find out who I am. They can call me Bob Newhart, Shelley Berman, Mort Sahl, and a couple of other—I'm so confused being three white boys and myself, I don't know what to do."297 Hinting at the use of stand-up in order to explore the performer's sense of self, Gregory's comment mocks the simplicity of pigeon-holing. It is common for comedians to adopt performance approaches pioneered by others, but the novelty of Gregory as the first African American stand-up comedian may have cloaked his own talents and individual perspective. Gregory's remark also reflects how W.E.B. Du Bois' concept of double consciousness can function for a black stand-up comic who is expected to exhibit a comforting similarity to white comedians even while establishing a unique voice and alternate outlook. For Du Bois, this double consciousness is a "twoness" in which African Americans have a "sense of always looking at one's self through the eyes of others."298 Gregory had to be able to "code switch," taking details specific to black life—such as chitlins and "nappy hair" on his 1962 album, Dick Gregory Talks Turkey—and frame them so that they were comprehensible to outsiders, in this case as In July 2009,1 saw Gregory and Sahl perform together at the Rrazz Room in San Francisco, still joined in the public's imagination over forty years later. Both of them retained their signature styles, with Gregory more daring and challenging the political thinking of the audience, while Sahl had more polished jokes and viewed the world stage in a more detached manner. 297 Gelb, "Comic, Back at Blue Angel, Proves He Is a Durable Talent." 298 William Edward Burghardt Du Bois, The Souls of Black Folk (USA: Feather Trail Press, 2009), 12. 127 examples of uncouth concerns that upwardly mobile blacks attempt to conceal.299 Comedy is a felicitous setting for the juxtaposition of inconsonant social worlds because contrast is one of the surest means of creating humor. As the only major black stand-up, frequently facing white audiences, Gregory's comedy frequently contained a pedagogical aspect, which makes it understandable that he later segued into a life as a lecturer on political and health issues. Gregory received respect from both critics and patrons. Praising Gregory, The New York Times wrote of him in 1961 as "the only member of his race thus far to join with and hold his own in the ranks of the bright, young, intellectually oriented, wittily topical, stand-up comics."300 His stardom had much to do with the fact that he was, as Watkins phrases it, "the first Negro standup comedian in half a century or so—since the late Bert Williams was in his prime—to be so widely accepted by white audiences."301 Sustained success in stand-up comedy requires the audience to accept the comic as a person as well as a performer because the genre often conflates the two. Stand-ups perform individuality on-stage in order to sell their act, while Williams, of course, was playing characters other than himself. At times, Gregory made statements promoting individualism that could be taken to conflict with his socially-conscious activism. On Dick Gregory Talks Turkey, he states that "we have problems all over the world today because men cease to be individuals," the crisis being that: We like to identify with everything other than ourselves. We like to identify with groups, religions, races. You hear it every day. I'm 299 Dick Gregory, Dick Gregory Talks Turkey (Vee-jay, 1962). Arthur Gelb, "Comic Withers Prejudice Cliches," The New York Times, March 20. 30 ' Millstein, "A Negro Says It with Jokes," 34. 300 128 Italian, I'm German, I'm Negro, I'm Jewish. So what? Do you realize that when you identify with anything other than yourself first as an individual, oh, you have a cheap way out for a lot of your own shortcomings? Did you know that?302 At first blush, this comes across as if Gregory were disregarding the social forces impacting individual lives, a foreshadowing of later neo-liberal attempts to ignore racial inequity, all in the name of human individuality. Gregory is not making a claim for colorblindness. He neither rejects his ethnic background nor discounts the racialized circumstances that shaped his life. For Gregory, group-identification is only a problem when it negatively impacts individual agency. Satirically thanking God that he's "been like an individual ever since I was seven years old," Gregory states that he had no problems moving into an all-white neighborhood "because I moved in as an individual."303 His white neighbors were in London at the time, and in the absence of their watchful gaze Gregory was not forcibly fixed within blackness. His sense of double consciousness could temporarily subside. In his autobiography, Gregory describes a practical impetus behind the need to play up individualism on-stage: I've got to go up there as an individual first, a Negro second. I've got to be a colored funny man, not a funny colored man. I've got to act like a star who isn't sorry for himself—that way, they can't feel sorry for me. I've got to make jokes about myself, before I can make jokes about them and their society—that way, they can't hate me.30 The implied audience is white. According to Millstein, once Gregory became a star, his audiences included the "comparatively few Negroes who can afford him," sympathetic whites, mildly prejudiced whites, and racist Southerners with "the 302 303 304 Gregory, Dick Gregory Talks Turkey. Ibid. ,r- , Nigger. 129 unshakable notion that Gregory must be kidding."305 Gregory's assertion acknowledges the potential danger of having a black stand-up comic confront the white gaze, just as there is a threat against black families moving into white neighborhoods. But Gregory does not completely cast off the appellation of "colored." He educates his white audience how one can be both an individual and a Negro— indeed, that everyone United States is both their own person and a member of at least one racial group, even though many whites have the luxury of going through life "unmarked." Gregory connected stand-up to the older tradition of black folk humor. According to television writer William Attaway: "Dick Gregory is using today the down-home, plantation type humor that came directly from minstrels, which is a way of telling it like it is under the cover of laughter."306 No one doubted the wealth of Gregory's creativity, although it is possible that he deserved less credit for originality than he received. Mel Watkins notes that some of the older black comics were "startled and perplexed" because Gregory's material included jokes that "were common currency in black communities."307 We can find jokes from his act which belong to the generic sort told on the street corner or the Chitlin' Circuit stage, which Gregory frames within stand-up's requisite air of autobiography. He told the following joke during his debut at the Playboy Club: Last time I was down South I walked into this restaurant, and this white waitress came up to me and said: 'We don't serve colored people here.' 305 Millstein, "A Negro Says It with Jokes," 34, 37. This inability to read Gregory's satire is reminiscent of recent reports on many contemporary conservatives reading the Colbert Report on its face value, rather than as a satire. 306 Schechter, The History of Negro Humor in America, 186. 307 Watkins, On the Real Side: A History of African American Comedy, 498. 130 I said: 'That's all right, I don't eat colored people. Bring me a whole fried chicken.' About that time these three cousins come in, you know the ones I mean, Klu, Kluck, and Klan, and they say: 'Boy, we're givin' you fair warnin'. Anything you do to that chicken, we're gonna do to you.' About then the waitress brought me my chicken. 'Remember, boy, anything you do to that chicken, we're gonna do to you.' So I put down my knife and fork, and I picked up that chicken, and I kissed it.308 At its roots, this is a trickster tale plucked from common joke cycles circulating in the black community. The tradition of these jokes preceded Gregory and persists long after borrowed from it. In the late 1960s, Paulette Cross collected the following version from an interviewee who introduced the subject as a white restaurant worker accosting a black customer who's ordered chicken, telling him: goan nigga, goan, its yo chicken, you ordered it, goan, but the manager told us, whatever you do that chicken, we goan do to you. So the black man looked around at 'em a coupla times and he picked up the salt and he sprinkled salt on the chicken, put the salt down and he looked at 'em a coupla times and he picked up the chicken in his hands and he rolled it around, and round in his hands till the tail was up, and then he kissed it, smack. And he looked at 'em a coupla times.309 The latter telling employs the third person, as is common in folk humor. When told to a white audience by Dick Gregory, he uses the first person of stand-up comedy, giving a human face to this particular victim of bigotry. The technique of humor was as crucial as the specific content of particular jokes, and Gregory altered the humor further by framing the jokes within the larger context of his personal life. Originality is, of course, constructed, and stand-up comedy relies as much on the appearance of singularity as it does on actual first-hand authorship. After all, the generic jokes told by Gregory were new to white America. As Redd Foxx puts it, Gregory was "the first jUS Gregory, Nigger, 144. Paulette Cross, "Jokes and Black Consciousness: A Collection with Interviews," The Folklore Forum 2, no. 6(1969): 141. 309 131 black comedian to stand up in front of a white audience and say what had so often been said before black audiences."310 Gregory himself admits that his act was not completely new, if only because it originated in his earlier everyday life: "When I left St. Louis, I was making five dollars a night. Now I'm pulling in $5,000 per week—for saying the same things out loud I used to say under my breath."3" Gregory's humor could be read differently depending upon the racial experience of the audiences. A joke about his poverty-stricken upbringing could be read (as it was by critic Arthur Gelb) as evidence of how Gregory doesn't "belabor" the race issue : "What's this—kids don't eat off the floor anymore?... When I was a kid the cookie never reached the floor. If it did the germs had to fight us for it. Mamma said, 'You see germs? Then play with 'em.'" 313 One could also read the quip as a description of the stark economic effects of racism in the United States, as an example of the significant heritage of poverty throughout much of the history of blacks in the United States, and a model of humor used to survive dire circumstances by allowing for expression and alleviating tension. Similarly, the following joke about the Congo could be read as ridiculous nonsense or pointed commentary: "People ask me... 'How come they don't send white troops?' Only way I can figure it out is they don't want 'em coming home with those war brides.'"3'4 For some, the concept of white soldiers with black brides was simply ludicrous, while to others the image referenced historical reality (such as the U.S. occupation of Japan) and pointed out the 310 Foxx and Miller, The Redd Foxx Encyclopedia of Black Humor, 178. Ibid. 312 Gelb, "Comic Withers Prejudice Cliches." 3,3 Ibid. 314 Millstein, "A Negro Says It with Jokes," 37. 311 132 illogic of a racial system in which cross-racial affiliation only arrives at the point of a gun. Gregory delivered many of his harsher jokes wrapped inside gentle packaging. Criticizing the stereotypical roles played by blacks in the movies and on television, Gregory makes his point while including his own behavior as a possible target of laughter: "I wrote Holly wood... Damned if I can see one colored cop on 'The Untouchables.' They wrote me back they making a picture called 'Stagecoach South'; they offered me the leading part and I turned it down 'cause I know the first time they make a Negro Western, the Indians gonna win."315 Here, Gregory couples significant critique of Hollywood racism—calling out movie westerns in particular—with a comic protestation of impotence. By professing the inevitability of failure, Gregory wears a smile while daring society to admit and redress racial inequity Gregory's affability may have made his pointed commentary more palatable, as he would have encountered greater pushback had he displayed the caustic nature of a Lenny Bruce. Instead, Gregory's self-effacement allowed him to get away with jokes that called into question the values of the white majority. He questioned mainstream assumptions in remarks such as "You gotta say this for whites, their self-confidence knows no bounds. Who else could go to a small island in the South Pacific, where there's no crime, poverty, unemployment, war, or worry—and call it a 'primitive society.'"316 Referring to whites in the third person marginalizes their presence, but Gregory's affect is bemused, so his white audience members need not feel threatened. As with his cutting quip about war brides, Gregory's critique is so far outside the norm 315 Ibid., 39. Watkins, On the Real Side: A History of African American Comedy, 502. 133 that some could dismiss them as absurd while others could take in the disapproval. His barbs garnered cover from humor's veneer of fiction, which allows comics to claim that what they say is merely done in jest. As a result, Gregory could joke about a coming day when blacks would rule—that there might even be a black president—and it could be read by audience as powerless fantasy rather than earnest speculations on revolution. The latent danger surfaced when direct speech substituted for indirect humor, such as when a white female audience member in Indiana spoke up that she "sure would like to love" Gregory.317 Gregory defused the peril posed by the real life proposition of miscegenation by making her drunkenness the frame of the joke, and spinning a quick fantasia on the two of them being forced to leave town in a hurry, narrating a crisis in his quips that he hoped to avoid in reality. Gregory's accent on amiability captured the attention and approval of many mainstream white journalists and critics. The headline of a March 1961 New York Times article on Gregory's local debut read "Comic Withers Prejudice Cliches."318 Two-sub-headlines clarified the reasons the Times had for praising Gregory. The first noted with presumed approval that Gregory's self-criticism extended to blacks ("Dick Gregory Aims Shafts at Negroes as Well as Whites"). The second lauded his lack of bitterness ("Show at Blue Angel Is Offered without Trace of Rancor").319 Gregory engaged in a precarious balancing act. He had good reason to believe that, were he to offer up more of his anger from the start, no matter how justified, the white audiences 3,7 Millstein, "A Negro Says It with Jokes," 39. Gelb, "Comic Withers Prejudice Cliches." 319 Ibid. 318 134 and critics might resist, as Gregory was pioneering new ground as an African American comic speaking directly to mainstream white audiences. It quickly became questionable how long Gregory could sustain his good guy act. Millstein says that Gregory "looks back without anger" at the moment in his childhood when he was made to realize he was being viewed in racial terms. Given his later statements as a political activist, it is unlikely that Gregory was truly without rancor. As he admits in his autobiography, he deliberately chose an approach so that "the audience would never know that I was mad and mean inside."320 By hiding his anger, Gregory tapped into a common survival strategy. Looking back as on older adult on his stand-up beginnings, Gregory writes that "comics who have decided to be socially conscious, honest with their audiences, and without a hidden agenda are still obligated not to offend or disrespect individual patrons."321Thanks to the cover of humor, he was able to attack issues without appearing to directly attack those in the room, to make his anger and the reasons behind it into serious humor. Nevertheless, within a year of his entrance onto the national stage, Gregory risked rejection and began expressing his acrimony at the current state of apartheid in the United States.322 In his own words, he "kept pushing things further. I made everything more topical, more racial."323 He had a clause inserted into contracts which allowed him to cancel shows with little or no notice so that he could participate in Civil Rights marches and protests. In late 1962 Gregory began travelling to the South as a Civil Rights activist, agitating for desegregation and voting rights. He proved 320 Gregory, Nigger, 134. , "Foreword," xii. 322 Millstein, "A Negro Says It with Jokes," 39. 323 Chalmers, "Dick Gregory: Mr Incredible." 321 135 himself more than just a talker and was arrested multiple times. While Gregory was addressing the Centennial Missionary Baptist Church, someone threw a tear gas canister into the room. Gregory chided those who got up to run, declaring that "[i]f you're not ready to die, get on out of here... If you're frightened go on home."324 By April 1963, Gregory was in the headlines of The New York Times because of his Civil Rights work, with headlines such as "Dick Gregory Defies Police in South."325 The article ran on the front page, justifying Gregory's notion that his presence could provide publicity and protection. In this context, his fantasias read as much more threatening. Asked by a "radio newsman.. .if the comedian would be called an 'outside agitator' because of his participation in the march [Gregory replied] 'No more so than Hitler called Southern white boys outside agitators."326 Outside the nightclub, others took his comments more seriously, even if the remarks still had the same humorous construction. While Bruce brought the language of the streets up onto the stage, Gregory took the insights and insults of the stage out into the street. When he led another march the day after the initial April 3 news story, the New York Times reporter wrote that "the police refused for the second day to take Mr. Gregory into custody despite a stream of abuse he directed toward B. A. Hammond, the Police Commissioner, and other officials."327 The situation was volatile and potentially violent, with the biggest danger coming from local police who: 324 Claude Sitton, "Mississippi Town Seizes 19 Negroes: Dick Gregory, Not Held, Leads Greenwood March," The New Yokr Times, April 4, 1963. 325 , "Dick Gregory Defies Police in South," The New York Times, April 3, 1963, 1. 326 Ibid., 40. 327 Sitton, "Mississippi Town Seizes 19 Negroes: Dick Gregory, Not Held, Leads Greenwood March." 136 appeared to be on their best behavior because of the presence of a swarm of news reporters and Federal Bureau of Investigation agents, one of whom filmed the incident. Nevertheless, a man who had sought to squirm away from a patrolman was bounced repeatedly on the pavement while being carried to the bus. A second was thrown into the bus and the thump of his falling body could be heard 20 feet away.328 The visibility of comics makes them a target for criticism yet as entertainers they tend to remain on the safe space of the stage rather than venture into the streets. As a free speech zone, the comedy club operates at a remove from the physical point of conflict. Having averted the potential anti-black violence present in the nightclubs since his first major gig at the Playboy Club, Gregory followed the danger of potential violence to sites of actual violence. Gregory molded the two main approaches taken by the African American comedians who followed him: one could directly address apartheid in the United States (the path eventually taken by Pryor) or deal with more generic "universal" subjects (the path eventually taken by Cosby). When he shifted his emphasis from talking to walking, the question arose of whether he remained a comic. Gregory claimed comedian as just one of his identities, and did not put it first on the list. When in a Chicago jail for "disturbing the peace when he helped lead Civil Rights demonstrators on the city's South Side," Gregory released a statement that said "I'm not an entertainer first, nor am I an American first. First, above all else, I'm a Negro."329 Many friends and sympathizers figured that Gregory was abandoning his career and that comedy and activism could not co-exist with full commitment. Robert Lipsyte, who worked on Gregory's autobiography, stated that by 1964 Gregory "was "Dick Gregory Working as Jail Paper Reporter," The New York Times, August 18, 1963. 137 blowing his career. Promoters were too frightened to hire him....Like Ali, who always thought of himself as more than a boxer, Greg always considered himself more than a comic."330 According to Redd Foxx, Gregory "became so wrapped up in the cause of racial equality that he began to lose sight of his humor."331 This critique is similar to those of Bruce once his trials became the main topic of his stand-up shows. Comic commentary requires one to be able to view the world simultaneously as one wrapped within it and at a remove, operating with what Arthur Koestler calls "the detached malice of the parodist, which turns pathos into bathos, tragedy into comedy.""2 This distance of stand-up from the physical frontline of Civil Rights depressed Gregory's faith in humor, as its entertaining aspects threatened to drown out the embedded points. Frustrated, Gregory asked "[t]hey didn't laugh Hitler out of existence, did they?"333 and argued that Humor has only helped the oppressed in one respect.. .as a narcotic. If humor were the weapon to solve the problem, there'd be comedians in the foxholes of Vietnam. As for me, humor was the only outlet to express my anger.. .Humor can no more find the solution to race problems that it can cure cancer.334 Speech acts appeared to have limited revolutionary potential when confined to nightclubs. Comics such as Gregory and Bruce could definitely influence culture, but it was done at a remove unless they were in a courtroom or on the street. If, as Koester claims, "[i]n all forms of malicious wit there is an aggressive tendency at work which, for one reason or another, cannot be satisfied by the usual methods of reasoned 330 Chalmers, "Dick Gregory: Mr Incredible." Foxx and Miller, The Redd Foxx Encyclopedia of Black Humor, 181. 332 Koestler, The Act of Creation, 52. 333 Williams and Williams, If I Stop I'll Die: The Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pryor, 44. 334 Schechter, The History of Negro Humor in America, 186. 331 138 argument, physical violence, or straight invective," then Gregory abandoned humor in order to satisfy his grievances directly, without the remove of humor.335 While on-stage, though, Gregory did accomplish much in terms of raising racial issues and utilizing stand-up comedy to showcase the serious intellectual capabilities of African Americans, establishing a precedent which lasts to this day. For centuries, according to Ralph Ellison, the Negro had been designated the "national scapegoat."336 In traditional stage comedy, the scapegoat is a derided figure of ridicule who is driven off or defeated; in stand-up comedy, the figure of derision returns and speaks on his or her own behalf, often seeking to get the audience to own up to our communal sins. Gregory gave voice to the scapegoat and tackled stereotypes, arguing that "offensive though they may be, [stereotypes] do exist and they must be held up to the light of reason if they are ever to be eliminated."337 Dick Gregory's accomplishments meant that a model now existed for African Americans wanting careers as stand-up comedians, even if he exited the stage shortly after opening the door. Bill Cosby: Race Erasure? One of the first aspirants to follow in Gregory's wake was a Philadelphian student at Temple University by the name of Bill Cosby. In the summer of 1962, Cosby started working Greenwich Village clubs such as the Gaslight, while still a 335 Koestler, The Act of Creation, 92. Ellison, Shadow and Act, 49. Alan Dundes, ed. Mother Wit from the Laughing Barrel: Readings in the Interpretation of AfroAmerican Folklore (Jackson and London: University Press of Mississippi, 1990), 621. 336 139 student.338 He was not sure of his career trajectory. A contemporaneous New York Times review describes Cosby as a "24-year-old physical education major at Temple University, here for the summer to polish his style, collect new material and save money for the fall semester."339 We see that stand-up comedy was not yet considered to be a prudent career path for an aspiring entertainer. Cosby's quick rise to superstardom may be what changed that common wisdom. In the main New York nightclubs, Cosby mostly worked to whites, with African Americans going unmentioned in The New York Times' mention of the audience at the Gaslight, "composed mainly of Bohemian youths in beards, college girls who discuss medical care for the aged, and tourists."340 It is possible that Gardner was practicing color-blindness in this article, but it is unlikely given his later discussion of Cosby's race-based material. Indeed, his reporting is primarily valuable for its evidence of Cosby's now-forgotten race and civil-rights related humor. Cosby's very early humor exhibits the influence of Gregory. Cosby riffs on the trope of the first black President, a fantasy also taken up by Gregory and Pryor. Playing the President, Cosby observes the absurdity and ubiquity of racism, positing that it wouldn't stop even with the capture of a symbolically and politically powerful position. Talking on the phone, he states "Yeh, baby, everything's fine, except a lot of 'for sale' signs are going up on this block."341 Cosby addresses housing discrimination a second time, this time using comic role reversal to invert the traditional status of 338 Cosby completed his undergraduate degree from Temple in 1971 and earned a doctorate in education from the University of Massachusetts in 1977. His doctoral dissertation was titled "The Integration of Visual Media via Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids into the Elementary School Culminating as a Teacher Aid to Achieve Increased Learning." 339 Paul Gardner, "Comic Turns Quips into Tuition," The New York Times, June 25, 1962. 340 Ibid. 341 Ibid. 140 whites, stating: "I used to live in a nice neighborhood. Then two white families moved in."342 The New York Times reporter saw some of Cosby's comments as "cryptic" and a "threat," such as his riposte to an "unsmiling patron" that: "You better laugh. I've got a club that's the opposite of the Ku Klux Klan.'"343 It's unclear whether the center of the joke is the audience member, the KKK, or the mere idea of an African American wielding power equivalent to that of white supremacists. Most of Cosby's sporadic stabs at race comedy targeted the irrationality of race as a concept (let alone a practice) rather than the injustice of racism in society, such as his quip that "[o]ne morning I woke up and looked in the mirror. There was a freckle and it just got bigger and bigger."344 Cosby may have been mocking the irrational differentiation by skin color, but here he winds up the target of his own joke. This is race humor that risks taking a common component of humor—abjection—and reinforcing it rather than undermining it. Success came swiftly for Cosby. He made the pages of Newsweek less than a year after his move to New York City. By June of 1963, explicit racial commentary was absent from his stage act, leading Newsweek to note that "[t]he most startling facet of Cosby's act is that, unlike any other current Negro comedian, he tells no strictly Negro jokes."345 It is impossible to untangle the degree to which African American comics spoke about race on-stage out of personal desire or due to outside expectations—or some combination of the two motivations. Stand-up comedy was in the process of being fashioned to address contemporary issues and Dick Gregory 342 Ibid. Ibid Z 345 Watkins, On the Real Side: A History of African American Comedy. "Riiight," Newsweek, June 17, 1963. 141 loomed as the model for cutting edge black comedians. Cosby implied that he erased race in large part to satisfy audiences, explaining that "[w]hen I told racial jokes, the Negroes looked at the whites, the whites looked at the Negroes, and no one laughed— until I brought them together, and then I had to tell the jokes all over again."346 In Cosby's vision, stand-up becomes a site for racial reconciliation, with the comic serving as the intermediary speaking in a common tongue. The purportedly universal subjects of Cosby's 1963 debut album, Bill Cosby is a Very Funny Fellow Right!, involved comparisons of football to war, lampoons of razorblade commercials, fantasias on Noah and Superman, philosophizing about the differences between men and women, and tales of the absurdity of karate. His opening is reminiscent of Sahl's conversational musings about politics and popular culture. Cosby is personable, making sure to inform the audience of where he is from and where they are before launching into his observations about the New York City subway system: I am not from New York City. I was born in Philadelphia, raised in Philadelphia, educated in Philadelphia. And, uh, for those of you that, if you plan to come into New York at anytime soon, don't take [or] bring a lot of money with you. A'right? It's the greatest city in the world. You can get all the entertainment you want for only fifteen cents. Ride any of the subway trains that they have here. It's marvelous. Not only will they take you where you want to go and bring you back, but they go out of their way to entertain you. They put a nut in every car.347 In Lenny Bruce's comedy, we are all exposed as freaks and crazies, no one more so than the righteous and the upstanding. In contrast, Cosby's world of tourists and show- Bill Cosby, Bill Cosby Is a Very Funny Fellow Right! (Warner Bros., 1963). 142 watchers squarely establishes Cosby and his audience on the other side, as middle class denizens. In early interviews Cosby expressed an acceptance that he would have to tighten his material, but ironically, the meandering improvisational style would become a hallmark. In his own words, Cosby's "thing was stories, long stories and vignettes."348 To the eyes of Redd Foxx and Norma Miller, "Bill Cosby was the first of the black comedians to come out of the improvisation school—the school that trains a performer to take a subject, develop it, and make it come out funny, without knowing in advance what direction he's going in."349 His technique pushed the boundaries of fledgling stand-up comedy enough so that Herb Gart, a manager of folksingers and a fellow Temple student who had steered Cosby toward the Gaslight club in Greenwich Village, claimed that "[h]e's never been a 'stand-up comic' He's always been a storyteller."3501 would argue that Gait's concept of "stand-up" is actually that of the older vaudevillian joke-teller and that Cosby's avoidance of one-liners is more consistent with the new comedic practice of stand-up, with its extended personal tales. Some of the influence came from television programs such as Sid Caesar's Your Show of Shows. Cosby recounted in the late 1960s how he: "went into this business after hearing Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner do their 2000-year-old-man routine. I loved their flow of humor, the looseness of it and the fact that any second, a piece of greatness could suddenly be created."351 Even more importantly, as with Sahl 348 Williams and Williams, If I Stop I'll Die: The Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pry or, 44. Foxx and Miller, The Redd Foxx Encyclopedia of Black Humor, 190. Nachman, Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s, 571. 351 Lawrence Linderman, "Bill Cosby: A Candid Conversation with the Kinetic Comedian-ActorSinger-Entrepreneur," Playboy, May 1969. 349 143 and Bruce, jazz was a primary influence on the development of Cosby's comedy. In the same interview, Cosby stated that: "When I started doing comedy, I began structuring my work the same way jazz musicians do; to me, a joke is a tune that has a beginning, a middle and an end. I'm the soloist, and my chord changes are the punch lines that make people laugh."352 That is, the joke structure is not missing but expanded. It is not that Cosby has absolutely no idea of which direction he will take at any given moment, so much as it is that his play of riffs and motifs presents him with multiple possibilities from which to choose. Cosby's debut album is full of fantastical stories, most notably his re-telling of the Biblical tale of Noah's Ark. In Cosby's version, a skeptical Noah is suspicious of the voice he hears, commanding him to build an ark and collect the species of the world to safeguard them from the coming flood. He is concerned about what the neighbors might think, speculates whether he is on the television show Candid Camera, adds to the anachronisms by asking what a "cubit" is, and pointedly informs God that he's mistakenly given Noah two male hippos. It is possible that Noah's questioning reflects the caution of an underdog, but to Watkins, Noah is "ethnically nondescript; he is an Everyman."353 Still, while his race is not easily identifiable from the narrative, Cosby's Noah is decidedly bourgeois, with middle class concerns about saving face in front of the Joneses, and Christianity accepted as the rule. Cosby makes a claim for inclusion in the mainstream that the Jewish Bruce could not do without conversion. In stark contrast to Bruce, Cosby utilizes stand-up to present personal 352 , "Bill Cosby: A Candid Conversation with America's Superdad About His Revolutionary True-to-Life Comedy Series—and About Racism, Kids, Humor and Heroes," Playboy, December 1985. Watkins, On the Real Side: A History of African American Comedy, 506. 144 experiences while actually diminishing the ethnic specificity of that world, with the primary exception of the Fat Albert characters made into a television cartoon from 1972-85. Watkins states that the children in these stories are not performed as white so much as they "have almost no uniquely black or ghetto aspects to their personalities."354 Cosby's stand-up comedy creates a fictional world in which African Americans need not be marked, and race is not erased so much as elided. It does remain there in Cosby's black body as a visual marker. Implying that Noah could have been black was not a radical as saying the same of Jesus, but it was a bold unstated claim. Several managers considered Cosby's ostensible race neutrality remarkable enough to claim credit for it. Fred Weintraub (who owned the Bitter End), put the transition in terms of accenting Cosby's individuality, stating that "I helped change his persona. He wanted to be a 'black comedian.' I must have told him a thousand times, 'There's one Dick Gregory. You gotta be Bill Cosby."355 Roy Silver, who managed Cosby as he ascended to the top of the nightclub world and into television stardom with I Spy356, said that: "I was determined to make him a star. I gave him the no-black [material] concept... .It wasn't per se racial—it was much sweeter than what anyone else was doing."357 Silver's statement implies that Cosby had the lucrative opportunity to be the black man with whom liberal white audiences could feel comfortable. His description of Cosby's developing timing and style suggests that comedians only engaged in racial jokes because they were an easy laugh, contradicting Cosby's claims 354 Ibid., 505. Nachman, Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s, 572. 356 NBC, 1965-68. 357 Nachman, Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s, 573. 355 145 that audiences "feel similarly uncomfortable facing color humor and off-color humor, as if there were something illicit about both."358 To this extent, Cosby was the antiBruce, endeavoring to make his comedy accommodating, aiming for laughter without unease and acclimating white audiences to change with a similar strategy to Jackie Robinson, who held his tongue about most of his complaints when trying to integrate major league baseball. Cosby posed his decision to sidestep race as an artistic choice, that it was his chance to be unique as well as to encompass a wider audience. He told Newsweek that "There's no comic I admire more than Dick Gregory.. .but there's room for only one Dick Gregory. Because of the acceptance of the Negro comic, he doesn't have to lean on racial material any more. I'm trying to reach all the people. I want to play Joe Q. Public."35' It is unclear why, if black comics were truly on equal footing with white comics, they would have to censor their comments on race. Cosby implies that Joe Q. Public is white, or at least does not view or discuss the world in racial terms and that doing so could be seen as a gimmick, rather than the artificial attitude being the conscious omission of such speech. At the time, Gregory himself argued that Cosby was "ducking it" by not talking about race.36" His success disproved the common wisdom that there could only be one star African American stand-up. Cosby countered the perceived lack of activism by noting how he worked to be a strong role model by building upon Gregory's legacy. For Cosby, one of Gregory's achievements was that "[fjor the first time people could listen to a black man talking 358 "Riiight." Ibid. 360 "Dick Gregory (Interview)," Playboy, August 1964. 359 146 on an intellectual level."361 With the rise of stand-up, Cosby felt that he could incorporate his social consciousness into the pursuit of his profession, that "[cjomedy was now going into the dignified vein. I knew that I had an opportunity to help the black man in my interpretation of him."362 Rather than tackling stereotypes directly as did Gregory, Cosby countered them with their absence, substituting seemingly nonracialized humans in his humor, and the example of himself as a successful black entertainment star. The potential benefits came from educating whites on the fallacy of black stereotypes while providing young blacks with positive role models. Cosby was the very image of success, tall and athletic with a charm that came across on television as well as in person. The result was a bounding leap away from black minstrelsy. Expectations that he should follow a prescribed path of social obligation to fellow African Americans often rankled Cosby. In part this was due to the pressure on a single person of color performing in front of a majority white audience—the same question of representation faced by Gregory. Cosby complained that: "I don't have time to sit around and worry whether all the black people of the world make it because of me. I have my own gig to worry about. If a white man falls off a chair, it's just a guy. If a Negro does it, it's the whole damn Negro race."363 At times, Cosby felt he should be able to pursue a career in entertainment without being politically involved, saying, "I don't see these people knocking the black elevator man in their building just because he isn't doing anything for Civil Rights by running that elevator."364 Of 361 Foxx and Miller, The Redd Foxx Encyclopedia of Black Humor, 193. Ibid., 194. 363 Nachman, Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s, 583-84. 364 Linderman, "Bill Cosby: A Candid Conversation with the Kinetic Comedian-Actor-SingerEntrepreneur." 362 147 course, as opposed to the job of the elevator man, the job of the stand-up comedian inherently includes social commentary. The very focus on personhood which can make stand-up a prime vehicle for altering the ways in which people view the individual also creates extra emphasis on that solo performer. The fact that Cosby did not place as distinct an accent on Civil Rights issues as comics such as Gregory and Pryor may help explain his longevity on the stage, as well as because he was seen as more palatable to mainstream audiences. He became a spokesman for products such as Jell-O, rather than the Civil Rights movement. Cosby saw his abandonment of explicit racial issues was not a way of forgetting his self but of reclaiming his individuality. This strategy served as an example in its own right and Watkins argues that it opened doors of opportunity for comics to come, accenting how it was a strong move against the lingering stereotypes propagated by minstrelsy: Cosby's presentation of an essentially colorless comedy routine was revolutionary. No previous African-American comedian had attempted or been allowed to step so boldly into this non-racial territory before non-black audiences. Traditionally, the few black comedians who were booked into white clubs or theatres were expected to present familiar ethnic comedy, heavily laden with dialect, that corroborated the image of naive humor established during minstrelsy. Only a decade earlier, black comics had been passed over or fired because they were not 'Negro' enough.365 Cosby was creating the possibility for black comedians to avoid issues of race just as many whites did, laying claim on the powerful privilege of the unmarked. On the performance front, Cosby's selective use of biographical ingredients demonstrates how stand-ups mine their off-stage lives for on-stage material and 365 Watkins, On the Real Side: A History of African American Comedy, 504. 148 present a performance of the personal—but that performance is not always an accurate representation. When asked whether his childhood was as happy as he made it seem, Cosby replied "Are you kidding? The thing I most remember about being a kid was being poor. I remember the eviction signs.. .1 remember a Christmas when we had no Christmas tree, and you can't get lower than that."366 Of course, one wouldn't necessarily know this from watching Cosby's act, in part because of his positive thinking, a world view that "when you're young, you have all kinds of energy and you forget the bad things and get on with the good."367 Conscious artistic and business choices were also a major factor, showing us that even while mining one's personal life for public performance, the comic has great leeway in what to select. Decades later, in the 21 st century, Cosby continues to bring out complex reactions, in large part due to his pointed comments made about behavior in the poor black community.368 While commemorating the 50th Anniversary of Brown vs. Board of Education in 2004, Cosby declared that "the lower economic people are not holding up their end in this deal" and that "[t]hese people are not parenting. They are buying things for their kids—$500 sneakers for what? And won't spend $200 for 'Hooked on Phonics.'...They're standing on the corner and they can't speak English."369 Cosby said that he was not talking about all poor blacks and that he was trying, as described 366 Linderman, "Bill Cosby: A Candid Conversation with the Kinetic Comedian-Actor-SingerEntrepreneur." 367 Ibid. 368 When I teach undergraduate seminars on race and ethnicity in stand-up comedy, it has been Cosby who elicits the most passion from students of color. Some fiercely advocate Cosby's right as an artist from a struggling background to do whatever he must to succeed economically and artistically. Others argue that Cosby has betrayed his roots, including his working class heritage, particularly given the public comments he has been issuing on black social issues since the mid-2000s. 369 Felicia R. Lee, "Cosby Defends His Remarks About Poor Blacks' Values," The New York Times, May 22, 2004. 149 in The New York Times, to "inspire people to take back their neighborhoods" but continues to make similar comments targeting individual responsibility without focusing on the social context of personal decisions.370 He has travelled a long road from the man who stated, in the late 1960s: "Try to get a ghetto slumlord to fix up an apartment and you'll know what frustration and bitterness is."371 Of course, that was never a line one could find in his stand-up comedy or television shows, and Cosby's lecturing about morals remains outside his stand-up comedy routines. Cosby's remarks seem out of-line with his off-stage politics in his early career. Cosby revealed some of his righteous indignation in an interview with Playboy, declaring: "I really believe that black people could march until the end of the world and the majority of whites still wouldn't want to give up what they see as their precious right to be racists."372 Academic Michael Eric Dyson has been the most prominent critic of Cosby's recent politics, looking back at the comic's career and avowing that "Cosby didn't cringe at race or color per se; he cringed at blackness. He didn't see the color of whiteness; it was the 'universal' he embraced."373 For Dyson, Cosby uses the universal to ignore the specificity of blackness, thereby reinforcing the racialized power structure of society. Dyson engages Du Bois' concept of being "both a negro and an American," arguing that "[ujnlike Du Bois, Cosby didn't see that black identities needn't give up their particular ethnic or racial slants to be universal; that's a false dichotomy engineered by the white merchants of a variety of universalism that 370 Ibid. Linderman, "Bill Cosby: A Candid Conversation with the Kinetic Comedian-Actor-SingerEntrepreneur." 372 Ibid. 373 Michael Eric Dyson, Is Bill Cosby Right? Or Has the Black Middle Class Lost Its Mind? (New York: Basic Civitas Books, 2005), 48. 371 150 seeks to project the normative as the universal. The two surely aren't the same."374 To Gerald Nachman, Cosby's decision to not address race directly was "a harmless but meaningful deception,""5 but to Dyson, it was harmful, an abandonment of the impact that color has had on Cosby's own life, and freed whites "from the responsibility to mend the social relations they had fractured, or in any case had benefited from, in the first place."376 Cosby's stand-up career does come in a different era than that of Du Bois, of course, and it could be argued that his act disabuses whites of stereotypes, and that his current moral exhortations are delivered in a different medium, to a primarily African American audience. Sammy Davis, Jr., who also received criticism over his complicity in a racist entertainment system, pointed to Cosby's off-stage work, remarking that "Bill Cosby carries as much weight on his shoulders as any Negro I know... .but he's totally committed. He gives freely of time and money."377 Indeed, Cosby continues to engage in these activities down to today, including millions of dollars donated to historically black colleges and universities. His television shows have consistently attempted to present a dignified image of African Americans, even while steering away from racialized topics. At the height of his small screen success, Cosby told USA Today: "I don't think either of the races could take it if we began to lay it out and tell the truth. What it comes down to is that people are different, but the same."378 This accent on universality rather than particularity holds steady in his comedy from his early days in 374 Ibid., 47. Nachman, Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s, 564. 376 Dyson, Is Bill Cosby Right? Or Has the Black Middle Class Lost Its Mind? , 21. 377 Nachman, Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s, 578. 378 "Family, Not Race, Is Focus," USA Today, October 26, 1989. 375 151 the Village to his current performances around the United Sates, setting him off from most other prominent black stand-ups. Epilogue The advent of first-person black humor into stand-up was a remarkable seachange in the world of comedy and represents a dramatic alteration in the history of entertainment in the United States. Dick Gregory and Bill Cosby began the process of integrating comedy, breaking down the barrier live and in person. It was a signal strike against the Sambo stereotype, although Joseph Boskin may be overstating the case when he argues that "the media emergence of black comedians spelled the end of the jester."379 What they did do was to make black humor a serious matter, to use the personal space provided by stand-up comedy in order to take the suffering laughter noted by Lawrence Levine and transform it into gripping fodder for the main stage. Gregory and Cosby also paved the way for Pryor, who would revolutionize the field through the on-stage presentation of a bold working class black voice. Together, the trajectory of the three explains the predominance of black men in the upper echelons of stand-up comedy, which has continued after Pryor to include superstars Eddie Murphy in the 1980s, Chris Rock in the 1990s, and Dave Chappelle in the 2000s. Joseph Boskin, Sambo: The Rise & Demise of an American Jester (New York City: Oxford University Press, 1986), 218. 152 Chapter Four: "Burning with Desire: Richard Pryor's Body of Pain" "After such knowledge and given the persistence of racial violence and the unavailability of legal protection, I asked myself, what else was there to sustain our will to persevere but laughter? And could it be that there was a subtle triumph hidden in such laughter that I had missed, but one which still was more affirmative than raw anger?" —Ralph Ellison™0 "When you see me laughin' I'm laughin' to keep from cryin.'" —traditional (blues)381 Prologue With Bill Cosby's superstardom in the mid-1960s, the face of both stand-up and black comedy became that of an African American averse to overtly addressing racial issues in his comedy. Not only that, but Cosby spent an increasing amount of time working in commercial television. With Lenny Bruce entangled by legal trouble in the years leading up to his 1966 death and Dick Gregory increasingly concentrating on his Civil Rights activism, the development of stand-up comedy as a new performance practice slowed. It threatened to devolve into a modernized mirror of vaudevillian comedy, with comics obscuring their off-stage personalities in favor of traditionally exchangeable public comic masks, uninterested in employing comedy to test societal bounds. Richard Pryor initially appeared to jibe with this trend toward tamer comedy. In the early 1960s, he copied Cosby, playing it safe rather than playing with fire. In the 380 381 Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man (USA: Vintage International, 1952, 1995), xv-xvi. Steven C. Tracy, Langston Hughes and the Blues (USA: University of Illinois Press, 2001), 209. 153 late 1960s, he took a step back from stardom in order to recalibrate his act off- and onstage. In the 1970s, he burst back into the mainstream. Basically, there were two major acts to his entertainment career, separated by a brief yet significant intermission. Pryor cemented the form's connection to the public construction of the individual, and he located that process in the body, arguing for a stand-up comedy powered by desire and pain. Prior Pryor, Cosby Clone Relocating to New York City from the Midwest in 1963 in order to pursue a career as a comedian, Richard Pryor submerged his own style in favor of an imitation of other comics, most notably the ultra-successful Bill Cosby. Some accounts have Pryor deciding to make the leap immediately after reading a Newsweek article about Cosby or seeing him on the cover of Time,182 with Pryor himself writing that he saw Cosby perform at the Cellar and "decided that's who I was going to be from then on. Bill Cosby. Richard Cosby."383 Pryor's witticism implies that his on-stage identity was halfway based on his own self and style and halfway based upon Cosby's successful formula. There was clearly more than a glimmer of truth to the joke delivered by Pryor's friend and frequent collaborator Paul Mooney at a roast commemorating the close of Pryor's 1977 NBC television show. In his introduction of Pryor, Mooney relates that: "From the first day that America recognized him as a stand-up comics 382 In his autobiography, Pryor writes "I remember seeing a picture of Bill on the cover of Time magazine" but an August 2009 search of their online archive reveals only two covers with Cosby, from September 1987 and January 1997. Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 72. 154 [sic], the critics knew that he had something unique. Who else would have the nerve to do Bill Cosby's entire routine?"384 The barb hits its target and Pryor visibly convulses with laughter. Biographer Jeff Rovin quotes Pryor as going so far as to say that because Cosby did a routine about Noah, "I did Adam and Eve, it was that simple."385 In his autobiography, Pryor acknowledges that "[i]f the material wasn't exactly Bill's, the delivery was. So much so that I should've informed people."386 Since stand-up is supposed to rely on an impression of the comedian's individuality, there's a perception that Pryor was betraying the underlying pact between the audience and the comic. The sins to which the stand-up confesses may be exaggerated or transposed, but top practitioners such as Bruce and Pryor demonstrate that these declarations and confessions exploit stand-up's potential with greater effect the closer they strike to home. Pryor's initial Cosby-esque approach headed comedy back toward the terrain of family-friendly vaudeville by avoiding the taboo-rich ground of Bruce and Gregory. Pryor kept his jokes simple, such as the advertising crack: "I watch a lot of television, and so I see those commercials, like the one where the woman says, 'Honey I got a giant in my washer.' And her husband says, ' Yeah, well he better be gone before I get home."387 We can spy hints of Pryor's later themes, including infidelity, in these early television appearances. The same connection between early and later Pryor resides in the victimization trope he uses to open his appearance on Rudy Vallee's On Broadway Tonight: "When I was young I used to think my people didn't like me because they 384 The Richard Pryor Show. NBC: October 20, 1977. Jeff Rovin, Richard Pryor Black and Blue (New York City: Bantam Books, 1983), 54. 386 Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 11. 387 Ibid., 70. 385 155 used to send me to the store for bread and then they'd move."388 Pryor's humor here is distanced, with gentle absurdism taking the place of the actual trauma of being raised by a brothel madam (his grandmother) and prostitute (his mother), although undercurrents of violence arise in these early 1960s routines, such as one on taxis which plays on the double meaning of "tip": You can't get a cab in New York City, right? Especially when it rains, all the cabs are owned by one company, Off Duty. Right, huh? If you're lucky enough to get a cab, you get in, you say, "Driver I want to go to 78th St." Driver says, "I'm not going that way." "What do you mean? I wanna go to 78th St." "You gonna give me a tip?" "I'm gonna tip your cab over, you don't take me to 78th St."'89 The opening lines are boilerplate: introduce an issue in a manner which creates comradeship with the audience, followed by a verbal witticism about the "Off Duty" cab company. Other than the threatening last line, any competent comedian could deliver this bit with similar authority. The Cosby influence is most evident in Pryor's fantasy sequences, with plot lines such as that of the burglar who is too strong for Pryor. Pryor's wife has to take over the fight from her inept husband. She ends up thrashing both the crook and the police called to the scene, who take the wife away. The routine ends with Pryor declaring: "Me and the crook livin' happily ever after."390 One does sense a stronger impression of actual underlying marital discord from Pryor's comedy than from Cosby's. This is understandable, given that Pryor had left his first wife Patricia Price and son Richard, Jr., back in Peoria. Cosby has also had scandals in his personal life, including an admitted affair and possible illegitimate child, but one would be hard 388 Watkins, On the Real Side: A History of African American Comedy, 534. Bob Smeaton, Life of Pryor: The Richard Pryor Story, 2006. 390 Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 73. 389 156 pressed to imagine such fodder making it into Cosby's on-stage anecdotes. Cosby does use stand-up to tell tales about actual people he has known, well-captured in albums such as I Started Out as a Child (1964) and To Russell, My Brother, Whom I Slept With (1968), but as discussed in Chapter Three, Cosby's proclivity is to remove the harsher aspects of poverty and racism. While Cosby's characters begin in a harmonious state only to have their foibles exposed, Pryor's characters start in a state of discord, with harmony as an unobtainable ideal. Cosby's world becomes an ideal one seeks to achieve, while Pryor's humor offers laughter as a respite from a harsh reality one cannot forget. At the time, the main model for taboo-breaking was Lenny Bruce, whose exploitation of stand-up's rebellious capacities had brought him to personal and professional ruin. Understandably, the advice for Pryor from industry insiders was to play it safe and keep his comments on race to a minimum. Bill Grundfest, one-time owner of the Comedy Cellar in New York, feels that Pryor had no chance other than to emulate Cosby, that if he "hadn't done what we would consider not whitewashed material, 'Oreo' material, he never would have gotten to square one....Compromise was a necessity of the times.'"39' Jackie Robinson is a cultural exemplar here, for repeatedly turning the other cheek even when encountering rank racism while playing baseball as a black man.392 In the comedy world of the mid-1960s, Gregory's sharpness 391 Watkins, On the Real Side: A History of African American Comedy, 533. Robinson knew that he was performing a particular image of acceptance, writing in his autobiography that he daydreamed about abandoning the extraordinary compromise demanded of him, a stance which often made him feel emasculated: "To hell with the image of the patient black freak I was supposed to create. I could throw down my bat, stride over to that Phillies dugout, grab one of those white sons of bitches and smash his teeth in with my despised black fist. Then I could walk away from it all. I'd never become a sports star. But my son could tell his son someday what his daddy could have 392 157 was now viewed as an exception rather than a model, although Pryor does introduce ethnic humor into his On Broadway Tonight appearance: I'm not a New Yorker. My home is Peoria, Illinois. I had a wild neighborhood, I gotta tell you. Because my mother's Puerto Rican, my father's a Negro, and we lived in a big Jewish tenement building—in an Italian neighborhood. So everytime I went outside, they'd yell, "Get him! He's all of them!"393 The humor here hints toward a truly exposed Pryor, but verges on the cartoonish, lacking the gritty detail of Pryor's later work. In fact, Pryor was from a wild neighborhood in Peoria and did have life experience with Puerto Ricans, Jews, and Italians, but he was initially reluctant to discuss those memories from brothels, seedy nightclubs, and his own bedroom. It was Cosby himself who advised Pryor "Not to cuss. Not to talk foul. Not to act no fool."394 Cosby implied that to adopt Bruce's approach vis-a-vis vulgarity and the taboo would be to cast aspersions on the entire African American community and the cause of Civil Rights, perhaps by reminding white audiences of minstrel images. Pryor's later career argues that airing one's cultural dirty laundry in a sympathetic manner can serve as a sign of positive pride, but for the time being he heeded Cosby's direction. Within a year of playing New York City nightclubs such as The Bitter End, the Living Room, Pap Hud's, and Cafe Wha?, Pryor was similarly praised for being '"sharp without being angry,' his humor 'rooted in his background but essentially been if he hadn't been too much of a man." Jackie Robinson, I Never Had It Made (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1972, 1995), 59. 393 Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 74. 158 nonracial in character.'"395 The image of a nonracial Pryor may be shocking in retrospect, but it reflects just how much stand-up was shaped by its most prominent practitioners—none more than Pryor, who could have made a profitable career without rocking the boat. In retrospect, Pryor feels he should have been more outspoken from the start, that he was censoring himself due to expectations from "white America": I knew the kind of drama and tragedy that made for great comedy, but I let only bits and pieces creep into my act. Instinct told me to do more, except the pressure was to go with the flow. "Don't offend, Rich." It was a politically charged time. Martin Luther King fought for equality and dignity. Malcolm clamored. But in terms of entertainment white America wanted their black comedians colorless. Negro. Colored. Those were okay. But as comedy writer Murray Roman, a nice man who didn't know any better than to reflect prevailing opinion, advised me, "Now I'd introduce Bill to my mother. But a guy like you...Don't mention the fact that you're a nigger. Don't go into such bad taste."396 On top of Roman's patronizing racism, Pryor points to how unusual it is for stand-up not to connect with the Zeitgeist, but white audiences held the bulk of the money and white advisors instructed Pryor to be "colorblind," by which they meant that he should avoid subjects and language specific to the African American experience. Like Cosby, Pryor had had colorblind elements in his early act. As he tells it, other comics who were familiar with his work before he moved to New York City in 1963 asked him "What the fuck happened?" to which Pryor simply replied "I'm going for the Rovin, Richard Pryor Black and Blue, 60. Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 81-82. 159 bucks."397 He had feared that there "[a]in't no room for two niggers"398 but in short order found success on The Tonight Show, The Ed Sullivan Show, and The Merv Griffin Show. Television money tempts stand-up comics to compromise, and for a man very open about his desire to make a good living, Pryor seemed to have achieved his major goal without ruffling any feathers. It came at the expense of obscuring his own desires, opinions, and history. In retrospect, we can recognize this self-effacement runs contrary to stand-up's focus on the comic's everyday personality. Pryor may not have had to mine his own experiences and tribulations with race to the extent that he did, but stand-up comedy lends itself to such on-stage confessions and revelations. Identity Crisis: Breaking Id Down I had a moment in my life when I said to myself, 'You're not gonna be funny if you continue doing what you're doing, 'cause it's not true,' you know, so I decided to try to do something out of my self.399 —Richard Pryor If stand-up comedy functions at its greatest depth and complexity when culled from the performer's own background, one might have accurately predicted that Pryor would run into trouble as he continued to fashion material from Cosby's on-stage approach, rather than mining his own off-stage history. Indeed, after achieving superstardom on his own in the 1970s, Pryor looked back at his emulation of Cosby as "unnatural."400 His evaluation of his early career counselors is that "they were gonna Rovin, Richard Pryor Black and Blue, 54. Smeaton, Life of Pryor: The Richard Pryor Story. Rovin, Richard Pryor Black and Blue, 54. 160 help me be nothing as best they could," which can refer to the absence of a readily identifiable on-stage persona and a lack of show business superstardom.401 He lay the blame at the feet of his agents and his own greed, twin pressures advocating safe commercial ventures over the risky exploration of social taboos, and credits ignorance for his choice to submerge his personal predilections, proclaiming that "[t]he trouble was, I didn't know any better than to listen to Murray Roman and people like that. I didn't have a view of the big picture."402 Pryor Convictions declares that in the mid1960s he "could feel the stirrings of an identity crisis"403 and is rife with statements such as "I had to rediscover Richard Pryor" and "I could barely commit to being me."404 This line of thinking is not unusual, as performers commonly speak in terms of being faithful to their own unique instincts and style. For stand-up comics, these personal predispositions are doubly important to their artistic development, given that the comics are the subject matter as well as the source of their art. Pryor needed to acquire the self-knowledge required to compose his on-stage persona: "I didn't know myself well enough. Charlie Chaplin had the Little Tramp, but I hadn't yet discovered my character, and that was because I tried so hard to be someone else. I didn't think about artistry as much as I did making monies."405 Pryor has occasionally been compared to Chaplin, mostly due to their shared expertise at mimicry, and he did create an equivalent to Chaplin's Little Tramp in his "[w]ino 1 Watkins, On the Real Side: A History of African American Comedy, 533. Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 82. 3 Ibid., 84. 4 Ibid., 86. 5 Ibid., 82. 2 161 philosopher" Mudbone, who was also an instantly recognizable comic underdog.406 In contrast to standard film practice, the characters Pryor plays are taken from his life, including Mudbone, who "is probably based on Pryor's Grampa Thomas Bryant."407 These figures are almost always presented in relation to Pryor, as when Mudbone dispenses wisdom to Pryor. In addition, Pryor frames his characters by means of direct address to the audience, as opposed to an actor who might be expected to fade from view underneath the role being played. This helps explain why Pryor's film acting, even when commercially successful, never had the same critical impact as his stand-up performances. When John and Dennis Williams state that "For years we have kept waiting for Pryor, our Richard, to break through one of those silly roles and talk to us. He has rarely done so," they ignore the essential difference in direct address between stand-up and traditional movies—not to mention that they overlook Pryor's concert films, in which he certainly speaks straight to the spectators.408 Appropriately enough, practical advice came from Groucho Marx, who encountered Pryor at a Hollywood party held in the younger comic's honor. Groucho, of course, was a progenitor of stand-up comics, who used his years touring vaudeville to construct a farcical character which eventually merged with his own private identity.409 "Groucho Marx" was more than just the identification of a comic actor with a popular role. Groucho, like his brothers Harpo and Chico, became known by his stage moniker even when alone with family. On the long-running quiz show You Bet 406 ujfe official Biography of Richard Pryor," http://www.richardpryor.eom/0/4113/0/1240/. 407 Williams and Williams, If I Stop I'll Die: The Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pryor, 62. 408 Ibid., 217. 409 NB Matthew Daube, "The Case of Rabbi Cantor Vs. Roscoe W. Chandler: The Marx Brothers' Ethnic Construction of Character," in A Century of the Marx Brothers, ed. Joe Mills (Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2007). 162 Your Life, Groucho played a scripted and stylized version of his off-stage self""0 Groucho's admonition was for Pryor to aim higher, engage his brain, and avoid becoming an empty clown or, as Groucho put it, Pryor would "end up a spitting wad like Jerry Lewis."4" Lewis, who came to fame in the 1940s performing a nightclub act with partner and straight man Dean Martin, built his career in the impersonal tradition of the Jewish clown. Even when not wearing literal make-up, he wore the metaphorical mask of the schlemiel. His off-stage life was absent from his on-stage antics. As Joan Rivers once said of Bob Hope, "If you only listened to his material, would you know the man?"412 In September, 1967, the ill-fitting performative mask finally led to Pryor's famous breakdown at the Las Vegas Aladdin Club. The incident is legendary in the Pryor mythos. As stated in the liner notes to the major Pryor audio retrospective, the "birth of the provocative Richard Pryor whom we all know and love begins here."413 Over the years, variations on the story had Pryor stripping naked on-stage (reminiscent of a stunt Bruce pulled off while performing at strip clubs) and/or having to be saved from the angry Mafia owners of the casino (along the lines of Pryor's own routine about a run-in with mob-affiliated club owners, eventually filmed for his autobiographical 1986 film Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life Is Calling). Pryor's account is that he looked out into the audience, taking particular notice, of all people, of Dean Martin: I asked myself, Who's he looking at, Rich? 410 You Bet Your Life ran on radio from 1947 to 1956, moving from ABC to CBS and then to NBC. The show also ran on television from 1950 to 1961. Bill Cosby briefly revived a version of the show from 1992-3. 411 Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 84. 412 Nachman, Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s, 22. 413 Reggie Collins. "Pryor Times." Richard Pryor, ...AndIt's Deep Too! The Complete Warner Brothers Recordings (1968-1992): Black Rain, Inc. & Richard Pryor, 2000. 163 I checked out the rest of the audience. They were staring at me as intently as Dean, waiting for that first laugh. Again, I asked myself, Who're they looking at, Rich? I didn't know. I couldn't say, They're looking at you, Richard, because I didn't know who Richard Pryor was. And in that flash of introspection when I was unable to find an answer, I crashed. I had a nervous breakdown... .1 finally spoke to the sold-out crowd: "What the fuck am I doing here?' Then I turned and walked off the stage.414 The collapse of Pryor's character was existential, in that the core issue was how to perform the playing of one's self. It is not that the on- and off-stage performances are the same so much as the performance of self on-stage echoes and pilfers the performance of everyday self. Pryor's unraveling was a dramatic encounter unfolding on the stand-up stage, at the meeting place of his public and private selves. However unpleasant it must have been at the time, Pryor later believed that the "breakdown was the only way I could shed the phony image I'd created and start rebuilding my self-respect."415 Task one was to abandon the clean-cut Cosby mold and confront the darker elements of his past and present: I only know my days of pretending to be as slick and colorless as Cosby were numbered. There was a world of junkies and winos, pool hustlers and prostitutes, women and family screaming inside my head, trying to be heard. The longer I kept them bottled up, the harder they tried to escape. The pressure built till I went nuts.416 The picture Pryor offers us is the stand-up comic as one caught between a performance mode which requires confession and conventional forces which press for restraint. One could ask why Pryor did not give vent to these voices earlier, but the discovery of this process appears common in stand-up. Most of the major stand-ups 414 415 416 Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 94. Ibid., 96. Ibid., 93. 164 encountered a similar bind, including Bruce, Margaret Cho, and Dave Chappelle. Even the wholesome Bill Cosby understood the needs of the medium and approved of Pryor's search for self, no matter how profane: "I was in the audience when Richard took on a whole new persona—his own. Richard killed the Bill Cosby in his act, made people hate it. Then he worked on them, doing pure Pryor, and it was the most astonishing metamorphoses I have ever seen. He was magnificent."417 (There are also rumors that Cosby personally intervened with promoters on Pryor's behalf after the episode at the Aladdin.) Of course, Pryor did not change his act with a single performance. Williams and Williams argue that Pryor's transformation began before the Las Vegas crisis, "at least four to five years before 1970 when it is widely believed he began to use the monologues based on his Peoria experiences"418 but they also quote a review of Pryor's performances in Columbus, Ohio, in November 1967, attesting that Pryor was "[s]harp without being angry, rooted in his background, but essentially nonracial in character."419 It was an evolution of an act that took years and there must have been multiple performances in which Pryor "killed the Bill Cosby in his act."420 Stand-up comedy asks its practitioners to find their vices via imitation, to construct identities through trial and error, and it is nearly impossible to find a stand-up who has succeeded from the start, without first constructing an identity through performance. The practice of stand-up suggests that individuals can shape their own ever-evolving selves, but must do so via the act of performing in front of others, and Pryor set off to 4 7 ' Williams and Williams, If I Stop I'll Die: The Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pryor, 48. Ibid., 47. 419 Ibid., 57. 420 Ibid., 48. 418 165 find both himself and his audience. The snapping point may have been abrupt, but the rebuilding process was slow, albeit illuminative of how a stand-up comic constructs a fitting on-stage persona. In September 1968, approximately one year after his breakdown at the Aladdin, Richard Pryor recorded his first comedy album. The eponymous Richard Pryor was taped live at the Troubadour in West Hollywood—the very same venue where Bruce had been arrested in 1962 (as detailed in Chapter Two). The album is relatively mild compared to Bruce's earlier exploration of the taboo. In the early '60s, Bruce angered law enforcement with his discussions of Jackie Kennedy's behavior after her husband was shot, arguing that Time magazine pictures of the first lady proved that she had "hauled ass to save her ass" and, in other routines, portraying the Pope as a Madison Avenue con man.421 Pryor's harshest critique of such public figures is to say aloud, "I wonder if Jacqueline Kennedy farts. Right? 'Uh, Mrs. Kennedy?' Buawrrp!"422 The fart noise receives the biggest laugh line of the routine as well as an applause break, after which Pryor continues: "Or the Pope?...If he does, it'll be like a balloon. Pptthuuuu..."423 Pryor's fondness for the stomping grounds of scatology can work to call out genteel detachment from the lower functions of the human body, but the puerility here arrives unencumbered by political satire. Representing the early portion of Pryor's self-imposed exile from the mainstream, typical topics on Richard Pryor include his opinion about smells, and a forty-two second conceit presenting Frankenstein on acid morphing into President 1 2 The Trials of Lenny Bruce. Richard Pryor, Richard Pryor (Dove/Reprise, 1968). Nixon. Pryor's technical skill sparkles, but his use of multiple voices speaks as much to a search for surer footing as it does to his brilliant virtuosity. He is still "Bill Pryor," with noticeable shades of Cosby's intonation on tracks like "Girls," even as Pryor explores overtly racial asides such as "Peoria, they call that the model city. Right? That means we have the Negroes under control here."424 At other times Pryor appears to cultivate a hipper street sound, such as opening the album with his own version of the slick jazz cat employing hip lingo and always trying to score. The last full routine before "Frankenstein" ends the album on a literal and metaphorical whimper, with a joke about a man kicked in the groin, although Pryor does drag this particular comedy cliche into the stand-up era by personalizing it and designating himself as the one who assaulted the Army sergeant. Still, the wider societal critiques remain muted in comparison to his later albums from the 1970s. After a few years in Berkeley, where his forays into clubs and recording were sporadic, Pryor returned to Los Angeles at the end of 1970, determined to go back and "resume my career as Richard Pryor, comedian [because] For the first time in my life, I had a sense of Richard Pryor the person."425 Pryor's 1971 album 'Craps' (After Hours) is a much more personal production than Richard Pryor, full of details from his own life that add an air of authenticity. He charges them with the energy of the taboo, including when he proposed to his wife while mid ejaculation: "She got me to marry her. We was balling and I was coming. [As wife:] Will you marry me? [As himself, mid-orgasm:] Yes, yes, yes.yes, yeahes, yeahes, yes."426 These highly 424 Ibid. Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 121. 42(1 Richard Pryor, 'Craps' (after Hours) (1971). 425 167 sexualized and intimate events were inconceivable fodder for network television. Talk about physical altercations make their way into his act, as Pryor reveals hitting his wife, and describes her attacking him with a butcher knife. Wife-beating jokes were not uncommon at the time—two years later the family friendly Cosby would joke with his Las Vegas audience, "Why beat on your wife? I mean, mentally and physically. Why beat on her? She's only trying to save you from losing everything you have. And you know if your wife wasn't here, you'd drop a whole load. And if she's going to be a pain in the behind, let her be it. And they are, too."427 Pryor extracts this talk from the remove of abstraction and reenacts a fight for his audience in which he threatens his wife and she "run downstairs and get a butcher knife. She's the butcher knife girl. But she lets me get her wrist before she pulls it on me."428 Pryor ends again with a reference to groin attacks, telling his wife: "You'd better not grab my nuts!"429 As with Bruce, the further Pryor explores stand-up's affinity for the vernacular, the more he connects to the vulgar present in the vulgate. He leads stand-up comedy in the direction Bruce took it, with the ignobility of the everyday as the topic of choice. The relation of on-stage to off-stage leads some to conflate the two, including childhood acquaintances of Pryor's who grouse "I seen you do that shit on—that's the same shit that you done round the poolroom, nigger. It ain't nothing."430 Pryor's technique pushes ever more into stream-of-consciousness, with over half of the thirtyone tracks clocking in under a minute and only two of them longer than three minutes. 427 Bill Cosby, For Adults Only (MCA, 1971). The album receives its title because the main topic is parenting, not because of any blue material. 428 Pryor, 'Craps' (after Hours). 429 Ibid. 168 "At no time do you hear Richard tell a joke. His works and monologues are conversation pieces."431 His talk about bodily functions goes further, including a track about masturbation, complaining that "[p]eople don't talk about nothin' real.. .like jacking off. A lot of people didn't jack off. I did."432 By "real," Pryor appears to designate subjects that are simultaneously ubiquitous and taboo, and it's these fronts that Pryor presents as strengths of stand-up. Pryor's growing forthrightness increasingly aligned him with Lenny Bruce, a figure Pryor never knew personally, but with whom he had long felt a deep kinship. Indeed, when Pryor first moved to New York City in 1963, he met then stand-up comic Woody Allen at a nightclub. As recounted in the 1995 autobiography Pryor Convictions, Allen told him to: Stick around, watch me, and you'll learn something. But oddly, I learned more from a hooker in Baltimore. I was working the Playboy Club when I met her, and after the show she took me to her place and said, "I want you to hear something." Then she put on a green-colored record album, something that I'd never seen. "What's that?" I asked. "Listen," she said. Then I heard Lenny Bruce for the first time. "Lima, Ohio." I'd never heard anything like him before, especially his bit about the kid who went to the hobby shop to buy some airplane glue but was afraid to ask for it. Instead, he asked for everything else, all sort of crap, one item after another. Finally, after he'd gotten everything else, he blurted out that he also wanted something like two thousand tubes of glue. That destroyed me. I went fucking crazy.433 As discussed in Chapter One, "Lima, Ohio" was one of Bruce's primary routines surrounding the matters of ethnicity and passing. The airplane sketch which ' Foxx and Miller, The Redd Foxx Encyclopedia of Black Humor, 210. Pryor, 'Craps' (after Hours). 3 , Pryor Convictions, 70-71. 2 169 "destroyed" Pryor was radical in its expression of lust for the forbidden, with the boy's longing for airplane glue symbolizing an addict's dependence on harder drugs. In the decades since Bruce and Pryor, audiences have grown accustomed to the stand-up comic's expression of forbidden desires. Pryor's anecdote demonstrates how this affinity was not there from the start but had to be constructed. The second act of his career gave increased prominence to stand-up's ability to handle stereotype and the taboo, and began to emphasize the personal desire of the comedian. Pryor Desire As the search for pleasure, desire propels comedy. Most professional comedians consider their primary aim to be the elicitation of audience laughter. Freud's investigation into comedy, The Joke and Its Relation to the Unconscious, posits that "the joke's absurdity-techniques correspond to a source of pleasure. We need only repeat that this pleasure comes from an economizing in psychical expenditure and a relief from the compulsion of criticism" which pressures us to follow the dictates of logic.434 For Freud, jokes, with their pleasurable economy of phrasing, allow one to express hidden desires without fully revealing oneself. Stand-up comedy pushes the boundaries when it comes to economy of phrasing, elongating the joke structure, and deriving much of its pleasure by pushing the boundaries on what it is acceptable to reveal. If "the pleasantry's function has been to lift internal inhibitions and make sources of pleasure which these had made inaccessible flow freely once more," then it is understandable that stand-up fosters the discussions of the taboo, 434 Freud, The Joke and Its Relation to the Unconscious, 122. 170 emerging during the eras of Civil Rights and the Sexual Revolution in order to foster discussions about proper codes of behavior.435 Pryor's comedy assays which of his private desires and obsessions can be reenacted and shared with the audience. Video of an April 1971 performance at the Improv, released in 1985 under the title Live and Smokin', reveals a Pryor far from the slick character of The Ed Sullivan Show. He works through material in front of what sounds like a white audience, given their lack of response to some of Pryor's references to black-specific culture. Some of his jittery behavior may plausibly indicate cocaine use, but Pryor lacks his later assuredness as his response to the audiences reactions (and lack thereof) demonstrate the essential interplay between stand-up and audience. Stand-up's performance of self does not attempt to replicate the off-stage subject so much as it reflects the always ongoing process of forming a self. The comic tests out different masks, performs aspects of self and tells life stories, re-staging these people and experiences on-stage, and eliciting feedback from the audience. One one-minute routine, labeled "Dick Junkie," stands out as it deals with Pryor's own homosexual experiences at unusual length. The bit begins with what appears to be standard homophobic fare, as Pryor declares "Never fuck a faggot" before revealing that one should refrain from sleeping with homosexuals because: "They lie. They can't wait till you finish fucking them" so that they can tell their friends about the indiscretion.436 In other words, homosexual desire is widespread, with homosexuality defined by the openness with which one admits such activity. 435 436 Ibid., 125. Michael Blum, Richard Pryor: Live and Smokin', 1971, 1985. 171 Reminiscent of Bruce's thoughts on homosexuality announced during his Carnegie Hall concert, Pryor accuses the audience of being hypocrites and concealing their nonheterosexual acts, telling them: "Y'all act like you ain't never sucked a dick or something. Y'all be, 'No siree Bob, we never ever touched a penis in our lives. We're real men.'"437 Pryor takes their potential moral judgments and turns the tables, labeling the audience as either liars or uppity hypocrites—or some sort of combination of the two. After mocking their unwillingness to engage in mutual confession, he quickly proceeds to confess with provocation that he "sucked a dick. You can get a habit from sucking dick. You know, become a dick junkie. You can only do it maybe three times. You do it more than that, you get a habit," implying that he knew this from experience.438 The power of the taboo Pryor breaks appears to make both the restless performer and the mostly-silent audience uncomfortable. Pryor's open exploration attests to stand-up comedy as an autobiographical mode of performance. Referencing his routines about his dating life when growing up, Pryor claims that "[mjost of the shit I said was true. I just reported on what I saw and heard, adding a twist here and there."4W His daughter Rain adds that "[i]n his stand-up there was always truth. He didn't make up things just to get a laugh or, you know, tell a story. "44() The creation of character in stand-up need not be consistent or cohesive. The stand-up self, like the off-stage self, does not exist as a static object but as an ever-shifting subject. Rain continues: "Maybe at times you didn't know what Richard Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 49. Smeaton, Life of Pryor: The Richard Pryor Story. Part 5, 7:30. 172 you were going to get personally, but you always knew you were going to get Richard."441 This flexible identity applies to Pryor both on and off-stage. Perhaps due to the eventual strength of Pryor's later reputation for desiring women, Keith Harris argues that "Dick Junkie" portrays "homosexuality as a sexual passage to heterosexuality."4421 would argue that Pryor actually presents both heterosexuality and homosexuality as performed, with an overlap. He presents homosexuality as a shared experience within the human range of sexuality, as something covert yet common, which only disappears when rejected by the audience. The heterocentrism of stand-up stems largely from an audience rejection of nonheterosexual desire, and it was these audiences that Pryor sought out, from the Improv in New York City to Redd Foxx's club in Los Angeles. By the time Pryor became a household name in the mid-to-late 1970s, his discussions of homosexual experiences were gone from his act, with one notable exception. At a gay rights benefit at the Hollywood Bowl in September of 1977, Pryor confronted the crowd over what he saw as racist treatment backstage toward one of the other acts: Pryor told the crowd in earnest that he'd once had a gay experience and didn't like it, but the dialogue seemed to stick in his throat. 'I'm the only person connected with this thing who has actually come out and admitted having a homosexual experience,' he went on, people bristling when he tauntingly referred to it as 'fucking a faggot.'443 441 Ibid. Part 5, 7:30. Keith M Harris, "That Nigger's Crazy': Richard Pryor, Racial Performativity, Cultural Critique," in Richard Pryor: The Life and Legacy of A "Crazy" Black Man, ed. Audrey Thomas McCluskey (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2008), 29. 443 Rovin, Richard Pryor Black and Blue, 161. 442 173 This is another of those episodes in which the person and their stage self are difficult to distinguish. Pryor appears to be speaking to both the crowd and himself when he "advised them they'd all be better off pursuing honesty rather than sexual freedom, getting 'out of the closet with everything, with your entire self.'"444 He may have been addressing himself as well. Despite his prior confessions and an affair with a drag queen,445 the number of his gay experiences shrunk to the singular and were notably absent from his stand-up. By no means does stand-up comedy require a complete bearing of one's soul, if that is even possible. Instead, at its most powerful it involves the compulsion to confession—the drive toward ever greater exposure of the taboo. Stand-up confessions run the risk of being rejected rather than accepted, and by the time he emerges as a national star, Pryor had decided to abandon his head-on challenge to the supposed hermetic nature of heterosexual desire, perhaps because homosexuality remains more taboo, or an identity that is easier to conceal from the public. Public revelation can become addictive to the extent that many comics consider it a greater priority than their off-stage lives and explore their identities onstage because they find it difficult to manage one-on-one. Pryor writes how, "[ijronically, I had a hard time in the therapist's office. All I had to do was talk about myself, but I found that painfully difficult. I figured it was too personal."446 He could only address personal issues in public, so that the "time I spent by myself between IflU., 1U^. Hilton Als, "Profiles: A Pryor Love," The New Yorker, September 13, 1999. Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 173. 174 shows was hellish. I hated being alone. I was my own worst company." Indeed, once he began opening up more off-stage to his therapist in the 1980s, his on-stage self engaged crowds less as the signs of his desire for sex and drugs waned. Pryor's understanding of his own desire appears extremely ambivalent, whether it comes to sexuality, gender, or race. At times he mentions that color should play no part in personal relationships, although he also views that as unrealistic. In a question and answer session with the audience for one of his television shows, a black woman requests that Pryor reveal one of his wildest dreams, to which Pryor replies: "One of my wildest dreams is to be able to fuck a white woman and y'all don't fuck with me."448 It is unclear which desire is stronger, that for white women, or not to have his personal romances be public issues of race, even though Pryor, of course, made his reputation revealing the inseparable linkage between personal and public issues of race. The audience reacts in shock to Pryor, and he quickly protests, laughing. "It was a dream, we was talkin' bout dreams!"449 In his "Black Man / White Woman" (1974) he frets over his (in)famous predilection for white women as the objects of sexual desire and the reactions from black women, stating that "Sisters look at you though like you killed your Mamma when you're out with a white woman, don't they?" thereby raising the possibility that other black men may share Pryor's personal proclivity.450 Pryor presents himself as responding to black women in this situation by 447 Ibid., 169. The Richard Pryor Show. 4 « Ibid. 450 Richard Pryor, That Nigger's Crazy (1974). 448 175 quickly and deferentially telling them "She's not with me." Interestingly, he delivers this line in a subdued deferential tone usually reserved for his white characters.451 To some extent, Pryor appears to desire white women for their very lack of power—the emasculation that he himself portrays when playing white, as I discuss in Chapter Five. In the routine "Black and White Women," from the 1976 album Bicentennial Nigger, Pryor portrays white women as more compliant than black women, willing to take more abuse, both emotional and physical, without reciprocating: But white women take more shit. Like you be at home, you know and shit, you gettin' ready to go out, and you say [here, he deepens his voice, heightening the link between blackness and masculinity:] I'm going out baby, take it easy, [switching to an absurdly saccharine white woman's voice:] Okay. Have fun. Toodle-oo. [returning to his normative stage voice:] You say that to a black woman, the bitch start dressing too.. . .And you talk about kickin' a black woman's ass, they different, they don't play that shit.. . White women fighting: [using the timid voice:] oh, please, [returning to his normative stage voice:] Black women fighting: [impersonating an aggressive black woman:] yeah, motherfucker, come on.452 Desire energizes Pryor's action and determines almost all of his relations to women as they are invariably objects of said desire, with their main differentiation derived via race. For Pryor, desire is a pleasure invariably accompanied by pain. In Pryor's world, desire differentiates men by race as well. In his 1975 bit titled "The Goodnight Kiss," white (male) desire once again fails to find fulfillment— a white boy kisses his date goodnight, does not think about having sex, then goes home and masturbates wildly. The black boy, after having spent hard-earned money on the date, feels entitled to more than just a good-night kiss. If the girl will not 451 452 Ibid. , Bicentennial Nigger (Warner Brothers, 1976). 176 comply, the black boy will order her to wake up her father, hinting that the desire for the girl can be transferred across lines both generational and gendered. Black fathers, according to Pryor, understand, and will even order their wives into the fulfillment of the boy's desire. Black (male) desire becomes that which overflows and crosses boundaries. In an earlier piece, 1968's "Prison Play," Pryor looks to desire, both interracial and homosexual, as the greatest threat to order. He opens the bit as a white sheriff with a deep voice and a southern accent. The sheriff separates the black prisoners from the white prisoners and a theater troupe enters to perform. The sheriff makes the containment of desire the first order of business, announcing that Now when the lights go out, I don't want any of you homosex-u-als back there touching one another, and I mean that. Now there's a couple of ladies in this here organization. And I don't want no cat-calling, and I don't want nobody up here whistling, hee-hawing, or humming around. And keep your hands out of your laps.453 The theater troupe (all of them portrayed by Pryor, of course) puts on a play about a love affair between a slave (Black Ben the Blacksmith) and an unnamed white woman who is part of the slave owner's family. The woman's brother proclaims joy over their love, which will stand for true freedom and true love, at which point the sheriff stops the show, proclaiming that: "[if] I don't get me a dead nigger, we're gonna hang one of them homosex-u-als." The representative of whiteness orders that desire must be contained, and it requires a sacrifice in the body of a black or gay man. As with "Dick Junkie," "Prison Play" presents a black male desire that will not fit within the neat confines of heterosexuality. 453 Pryor, Richard Pryor. 177 Pryor learned the power of desire as a child in the brothels, where he first encountered white men as sexually exploitative power figures: Tricks used to come through our neighborhood. That's where I first met white people. They came down to our neighborhood and helped the economy. I could've been a bigot, you know what I mean? I could've been prejudiced. I met nice white men. They said, "Hello, little boy. Is your mother home? I'd like a blow job." I wonder what would happen if niggers went to white neighborhoods doing that shit. "Hey, man, your mama home? Tell the bitch we want to fuck!"454 Recounting these experiences, Pryor points out the connection between racism and sexual desire, which is both raced and gendered in the routine. As with Bruce's authority figures, there's a revelation that the ones in charge—the "nice white men"— are actually the unethical ones. Pryor may desire escape into sex and away from race, but the two remain inextricably linked. Pryor on Fire: Body of Pain Pryor's only canvas, his racial body, was a site of great pain, a repository of hurt and abuse that was personal in its specificity and social in its context. Many of Pryor's routines (and much of his biography) revolve around physical pain. The earliest memory he dispenses is of watching men fight at his grandmother's whorehouse. Pryor asks why, and the answer he receives is a blow by his father. There is also the tale of his father hitting his mother, who retaliates by drawing blood from his father's testicles. Pryor was repeatedly beaten by his grandmother, raped by a neighborhood bully, and physically fought racists while in the Army. Sally Hanson "speculates that Pryor's 'well-spring of humor' comes from 'pain. He had, you know, 54 , Pryor Convictions, 35. 178 a really rough upbringing—such a painful childhood that the only survival was."455 The use of humor as a coping mechanism referred to in Chapter Three applies to Pryor as well as any comic, to deal with the pain of the raced and hurt body. Pryor himself connected the pain to his profession, professing that: "Most of my life I spent feeling bad; I'm used to pain. When I'd wake up in the morning feeling good, I'd think something was wrong... .There was this thing that if you were a comic, you didn't go get healthy because you weren't able to get funny."456 Health implies a balance less prone to humorous absurdities. It is not that pain leads to humor, but that humor is one common reaction to pain, particularly pain that lacks an explanation and is therefore, at its roots, absurd. Pryor goes so far as to assert that "You need pain to be funny"457 and some of his most affecting routines deal with his body in pain. It is a reversal of the long-standing idea of comic relief; rather than needing humor in order to cope with pain, one needs pain in order to produce humor. In his ground-breaking 1979 concert film, Richard Pryor: Live in Concert, Pryor reenacts a recent heart attack. John Limon is factually incorrect when he says that "[fjhere is nothing like it in all of stand-up," if Limon is talking about the acting out of a heart attack.458 Other comedians have done so, the most famous being Redd Foxx, who did this on a regular basis, both in concert and then on his television show Sanford and Sun. What is unparalleled is Pryor's personification of the heart as unique, the pain that "itself signifies: 'I'll be fucking with you for the next hour or Watkins, On the Real Side: A History of African American Comedy, 530-31. Rovin 189? Rovin, Richard Pryor Black and Blue, 118. Ibid., 214. Limon, Stand-up Comedy in Theory, or Abjection in America, 87. 179 so'"459 j t i s a remarkable extension of what Limon designates as Pryor's "manipulation of subjectivities" which extends beyond human beings into the world of nature, where his imitations of animals "grants subjectivity indiscriminately to almost everyone, almost everything."460 The pain is bigger than Pryor, able to bring him and his comedy to the ground, forcing the stand-up to sit down. Even more remarkable is the routine from Richard Pryor: Live on the Sunset Strip (1982) in which Pryor relates the inside scoop on how he set himself on fire, an act that made the evening news around the world when it happened in June of 1980. The concert is Pryor's first since his recovery from serious burns and, given stand-up's dependence upon autobiographical material, it is inconceivable that Pryor would refrain from discussing the topic. Using the euphemism of "milk and cookies," Pryor explains to the audience how he was freebasing cocaine when the drug equipment exploded. "Now here's how I really burned up. Usually, before I go to bed I have a little milk and cookies. One night I had that low-fat milk, that pasteurized shit, and I dipped my cookie in it and the shit blew up. And it scared the shit out of me. Not the blowing up, but the catching on fire." This time, the pain is beyond understanding. As he writes in his autobiography, "Can't even describe that pain. Shitfuckmotherfuckerohgoddamnshitohfuckgodhelpmefuckfuckfuckfuck doesn't even come close."461 If, as I discuss in the introduction, comedy relies upon a cohesive union of competing narratives, Pryor's skill at wresting thunderous laughter from this personal tragedy testifies to his unrivaled skill. 0 Ibid., 84. ' Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 194. 180 Pryor's account was also a lie. As it came out later, first in his friend Jim Brown's autobiography and then his own, Pryor had actually poured cognac over his body and set himself on fire while in a drug-fueled dementia. It is a second testament to Pryor's skill that he makes the routine so successful. The stand-up comic does not need to tell the factual truth to the audience, but construct enough of an air of authenticity to gain acceptance. This requires a framework of fact, and many of the details Pryor dispensed were true, including his flight through the streets while on fire and the extensive recovery he had to make at the Sherman Oaks Community Hospital Burn Center. The premise of the drug explosion, bizarrely enough concocted by his public relations staff, was a total falsehood. That he got the audience to believe it demonstrates the power of stand-up to construct a comic individual who is read as an actual person, and not purely a fictional character. What can we read into this incident? Glenda Carpio writes that she would not, as Herman Beavers does, read Pryor's burned body after his self-immolation as a symbol of 'how hard it is to be a black man in America,' for this risks pathologizing race.. ..And, while I partly agree with Beavers's claim that 'Pryor's body is a text onto which the impact of racism is mapped,' I strongly emphasize the active and conscious role that Pryor took in that endeavor. Pryor lent his body as a text.462 The concept of Pryor's body as a text can include the incredible physicality he brought to his stage performances as well as the burn incident. Of course we do not want to understand race (as opposed to racism) as a sickness, but a racist society can impact the physical wellbeing of its inhabitants. Furthermore, Pryor's active engagement in subjectivity could be seen as having magnified the impact of being a raced individual within the United States. There are many examples beyond Bruce and Pryor of how 462 Carpio, Laughing Fit to Kill: Black Humor in the Fictions of Slavery, 100. 181 stand-up magnifies the pressure that a society and an individual places on one's body, including Margaret Cho's kidney failure in the mid-90s and Martin Lawrence's coma in 1999. There is a sacrificial aspect to stand-up, of using one's own body to make others laugh, and none carried that further than Pryor, whose oeuvre is full of fire images, including being burned at the stake on the cover of "Is It Something I Said?" and playing a caveman discovering fire on his television show. With Pryor, we see stand-up as a struggle for control of one's body and one's self, between comic and self, comic and audience, and comic and society. Epilogue Lawrence Levine's statement that the "oblique jokes of southern blacks were able to draw humor from the most painful situation,"46' conjures up the trope of humor as a survival device—of laughing to keep from crying. Pryor himself found his identity as a stand-up comic when he tapped into that well of pain, letting both pain and desire propel his comedy. His work reveals stand-up comedy as rooted in the body, which only accentuates the tragic irony of his career fading due to a struggle with multiple sclerosis. The way Richard Pryor describes the incidents leading to the diagnosis of MS, it was a role reversal, with his body playing jokes on him, reminiscent of his earlier heart attacks. When movie director Michael Apted asked Pryor to take his place on the set of Critical Condition in 1986, Pryor tried to get there, "Real hard. But my body wasn't buying that shit. It was fucking with me. Like ha-ha- Levine, Black Culture and Black Consciousness, 314. 182 ha, you know?"464 To the last, Pryor's body was the nexus of his desire, pain, and comedy. Before he finished, he remade stand-up comedy into his image and, as I discuss in Chapter Five, reconfigured the possibilities regarding the performance of race on the main stage of the United States. 464 pry or, Pry or Convictions, 220. 183 Chapter Five: "Bursting the Laughing Barrel: Richard Pryor's Performance of Race" "Black people can't disassociate themselves from issues of race because we're living in a white world. The time for being white is over. I have no use for anyone who never lets you forget what color they are."465 —Richard Pryor Prologue Driven by a compulsion to examine sites of pain and motivated by an acute consciousness of being a black man in the United States, Richard Pryor revolutionized stand-up through unprecedented attempts to co-opt traditional stereotypes and reverse the centuries-old minstrel tradition. Richard Pryor not only laughed and incited laughter, but did so with an unprecedented openness, bursting the bounds of the laughing barrel described by Ralph Ellison. In his essay "An Extravagance of Laughter," Ellison writes of some small Southern town in which Negro freedom of expression was so restricted that its public square was marked by a series of huge whitewashed barrels labeled FOR COLORED, and into which any Negro who felt a laugh coming on was forced—pro bono publico—to thrust his boisterous head.466 Ellison's ominous anecdote presents humor as a battleground, with its physical manifestation, laughter, posing a threat to the establishment, as well as constituting a rare refuge for the oppressed. If, as Malcolm X stated, "[t]he black man has survived 465 466 Foxx and Miller, The Redd Foxx Encyclopedia of Black Humor, 212. Ralph Ellison, Going to the Territory (Vintage, 1995), 187. 184 in this country by fooling the white man. He's been dancing and grinning and white men never guessed what he was thinking," then Pryor is as responsible as anyone for offering an alternative to this particular foolery by replacing covert comedy with the more open and overt joking available in stand-up comedy.467 Pryor built on the tradition of laughter as racial resistance, bringing it onto the main stage of entertainment in the United States, and making whiteness into a communal object of laughter. In doing so, Pryor dramatically expanded the options of what black performers and comics could say and what white audiences would hear as his work managed to both entertain and instruct. With bravery and bravado, Pryor calls out the racism of the United States from center stage, using stand-up comedy to turn the previous object of comic discussion—the black man in particular—into the subject speaking on his own behalf. Back to Black: Re-claiming Roots The rise of Richard Pryor's racial consciousness accompanied a realization that the stand-up comic does not operate in isolation, but performs identity in negotiation with an audience. Much of the jocular discussions of race and ethnicity involve testing one's group affinities and affiliations, and if Pryor had a singular epiphany after his 1967 breakdown at the Las Vegas Aladdin Club,468 it was the necessity that he drop at least halfway out of traditional show business, in order to regroup and discover which "Malcolm X: A Candid Conversation with the Militant Major-Domo of the Black Muslims," Playboy, May 1963. 468 This event is explored in Chapter Four. 185 of these should take the place of his Cosby-esque presentation. Pryor felt a compulsion to speak from the outside: I saw myself as a victim of the system, an outsider for whom justice was out of reach, a dream, and then I saw how closely my situation mirrored the black man's larger struggle for dignity and equality and justice in white society. That was me. I was that character. That was the person to whom I had to give voice. I decided to drop out of the whole damn thing altogether. Got rid of my driver's license. Quit carrying identification of any kind. Stopped using banks, paying traffic tickets, income taxes, and all that shit.469 By ridding himself of many official markers of identity, Pryor put himself in a more optimal situation to select his own symbols of identity. His movement was to the margins, into the late 1960s counterculture. Pryor moved to Berkeley in order to connect himself to African American arts and politics. Close friend and fellow comedian Paul Mooney drove him up to the East Bay, where Pryor could spend time with black activists like Angela Davis and intellectuals like the author Ishmael Reed. Pryor also spent time reading and re-reading Malcolm X's writings and playing Marvin Gaye albums (as well as feeding his personal appetite by taking advantage of the easy access to cocaine provided by the Oakland ports). In stand-up, the search for self bridges personal life and career. For Pryor, this bridge involved his sometimes ambivalent relationship to blackness. "Pryor later recalled that a white teacher told him he was black, a Negro, and he became upset. T didn't want to be this Negro,' he said. (Some Pryor watchers believe this still to be the Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 92. 186 case.)"470 Pryor certainly did not want to accept the image of blackness foisted upon him by outsiders, and in order to rebuild the consonance between his personal life and stage persona, he took a step away from his white audience and toward the black community. It was Mooney who introduced Pryor to Redd Foxx's Los Angeles comedy club in the late 1960s. Pryor felt that, [w]ith a black audience, I was free to experiment with material that was more natural. It was frightening, since I didn't know myself and had to learn who I was. It was like I was there but I wasn't there, you know. Yet it was also lovely, comfortable. I talked about the black man's struggle to make it in a white world, which was also my struggle. For the first time since I began to perform at Harold's Club, I saw black people laughing—and not just at cute shit. They laughed at the people I knew. The people they knew. It was enlightening.471 Pryor presents this story as a simultaneous advance in his consciousness and reunion with his people. If stand-up comedy requires the performer to find an intersection between their comedy and their personal life, it is quite understandable that these experiences before black audiences helped Pryor develop an on-stage character that felt, to use his own term, "more natural."472 We see this growing congruity on the 1968 album Richard Pryor (to a small extent) and 1971 's Craps (to a larger extent), but it was Pryor's breakthrough third album, 1974's That Nigger's Crazy which marked the emergence of the iconic Richard Pryor. The album went Gold, earned Pryor his first Grammy for Best Comedy Recording, and made him a national star. In his autobiography, Pryor write that "[t]his was new stuff. It was like listening to Lenny. Everything was fair game."473 He calls it 470 Williams and Williams, If I Stop I'll Die: The Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pryor, 30. Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 98. 472 Ibid. 473 Ibid., 137. 471 187 his "first crossover success"474 and the term "crossover" would follow Pryor around for the next decade, with Universal Pictures executive Thorn Mount later calling Pryor "the most significant crossover artist in the history of the movies."475 But just who was it who crossed over? Was it Pryor, returning to an integrated audience? Or, considering that That Nigger's Crazy was made by Laff Records with a primarily black audience in mind, was it the white audience members who crossed over into Pryor's world? Pryor recorded That Nigger's Crazy at Redd Foxx's L.A. club. It is defiantly race conscious, foregrounding black patrons. The album opens with Pryor acknowledging the black audience at his concert; his first words after "thank you" and "good evening" are "Hope I'm funny. Yeah, cuz I know niggers ready to kick ass." Pryor continues in the voice of a hypothetical black audience member: "you better be funny, motherfucker," then, when actually heckled, replies "don't start no shit now. Niggers be starting to fight and shit in the club. Pull out a pistol and shit and clear everything up."476 Pryor paradoxically pleased audiences more by refusing to please them. British actor Hugh Quarshie notes Bruce's influence here, remarking that the "inspirational impact of someone like Bruce was that he wasn't afraid to make enemies, you know—whereas Cosby wanted to be liked—and that must have been what struck a chord with Richard Pryor."477 Like Bruce, Pryor's act evolved to highlight race and ethnicity as unavoidable aspects of life in America, with personal and institutional racism shaping the essential experience of being African American. 474 Ibid. Quoted in Williams and Williams, If I Stop I'll Die: The Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pryor, 10. 476 Pryor, That Nigger's Crazy. 477 Smeaton, Life of Pryor: The Richard Pryor Story. 475 188 Pryor's material makes the stage a world that is both black-centered and maledominated (and in which the two frequently overlap). Pryor's routine is anti-authoritarian and directly calls out white people even when they are not the direct perpetrators of violence. He boils down the relationship in a track entitled "Niggers vs. the Police," stating that: "Cops put a hurtin' on your ass, man. You know, they really degrade you. White folks don't believe that shit, don't believe the cops degrade. 'Aw, come on, those beatings, those people were resisting arrest. I'm tired of this harassment of police officers.'"478 Whereas Cosby frequently focused on a benignly recounted past, Pryor turns the aim of his comic storytelling to the political present: "See, white folks get a ticket, they pull over: 'Hey officer, yes, glad to be of help, cheerio.' Nigger gotta be talking about: 'I am reaching into my pocket for my license. [Mixture of applause & laughter.] Cuz I don't want to be no motherfucking accident.'"479 Pryor presents himself as a potential victim, but one who now has the agency with which to frame his own story. Understandably, the new Pryor was particularly popular among African American audiences. Film critic Donald Bogle writes that "[w]ith the exception of Dorothy Dandrige, it is doubtful if any other black film star, even Poitier or later Eddie Murphy, has ever connected with the black audience in quite the intense way that Pryor did."480 It is unlikely that Pryor could have achieved that connection without first establishing the intimate relationship through the medium of stand-up comedy, which Pryor, That Nigger's Crazy. Ibid. Williams and Williams, If I Stop I'll Die: The Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pryor, 217. 189 also allowed Pryor to explore hidden dimensions of black masculinity. Jeff Rovin writes that, prior to Pryor, there were only three aspects of black maleness to be found on TV or in the movies: the suave, pimp-style blandness of Billy Dee Williams; the big-dicked, quiet machismo of the football hero Jim Brown; and the cable-knit homilies of Bill Cosby. Pryor was the first image we'd ever had of black male fear. Not the kind of Stepin-Fetchit noggin-bumpin'into-walls fear that turned Buckwheat white when he saw a ghost in the 'Our Gang' comedies.. .Pryor was filled with dread and panic—an existential fear, based on real things, like racism and lost love.481 That is, Pryor's imagery of racism and portrayals of his individual struggles within such a system were multi-dimensional and included a forceful, palpable willingness to delve into areas of discussion that had been previously taboo, even within the arena of comedy. Loaded Language: The N-Word and Stereotype Pryor's path was the mirror image of Dick Gregory, who went from stage to street. Instead of staying on the streets, Pryor felt: "I knew that I could stir up more shit on stage than in a revolution."482 As a matter of temperament, it was unlikely that the mercurial Pryor would commit to any organized Civil Rights resistance. He was also more technically proficient and popular than Gregory, and therefore able to attract more social attention while on-stage. The question became whether stand-up could once again be as dangerous as it appeared with Bruce. The most innovative tracks on his first album, 1968's Richard Pryor, are 190 of "the voice that was trying to break through."482 The title character is disguised as Clark Washington, with Pryor bestowing a common African American last name that evokes one of the nation's slave-owning founders and the legacy of forced name changes. Washington, the "mild-mannered custodian for the Daily Planet," rushes off to save the warehouse from a fire because that's where he holds his "stash."483 Pryor contextualizes the piece, framing it within the discussion of why "they never have a hero, a black hero."484 Super Nigger is an anti-hero, oppressed despite his abilities, and on the verge of quitting because he is "[t]ired of doing them halls. Every time I finish, Lois Lane and them come slipping and sliding down through there and I got to do 'em over again."485 When he flies into action, the music is funkier than the standard Superman on television fare. There is still racism in his world; the routine ends with Super Nigger angry at one of the enthusiastic onlookers because they're shouting excitedly "it's Super Nigger." Super Nigger warns "Don't call me Super..." as the track fades away.486 Pryor ventures into the taboo here, but ends the skit just as the title character begins to question his moniker. The taboo which Pryor took on and attempted to overload was the most explosive word in the English language. Indeed, his mere use of the N-word was, for the time, remarkably revolutionary. While party albums like those of Redd Foxx were renowned for their blue language, they were focused on sexual puns rather than racial language. African American comedians also tended to work with milder language 482 Ibid., 113. , Richard Pryor. 484 Ibid. 485 Ibid. 486 Ibid. 483 191 when playing live in integrated nightclubs. Being black was already considered a significant hindrance to landing bookings and African American comedians in the public eye were supposed to display exemplary moral behavior, a la Dick Gregory and Bill Cosby. As Pryor testified, club bookers "would rather use the dirtiest ofay cat in the world than to use a black cat."487 It is likely that he felt comfortable starting to bend the boundaries of decorum now that he was no longer aiming for mainstream acceptance, a change of direction which included stepping away from the flattening effect of television. Pryor's hesitance is understandable. As Glenda Carpio explains, the N-word has a unique stature: Not quite a curse word, 'nigger' is in many ways more taboo than actual obscene words....As Kate E. Brown and Howard I. Kushner argue, curse words derive their force from the fact they absorb 'the history of their past speaking'.. .curse words 'are not owned but are only voiced by the speaker.' 'Nigger' is the H-Bomb of racial epithets precisely because, like curses, it derives its force from the history of past use.488 Pryor's use of the word combines its everyday employment among certain segments of the African American population with his own personal re-imaginings of a wellknown super-hero. His rewriting of a historically-loaded, communally defined word, is audacious. The term also offered a particularly promising opportunity to test the extent of stand-up's capacity to influence people and inform language. Pryor's reasons for attacking the word relate to Bruce's motivations for his own N-word routines, in which Bruce expresses the belief that repeating such a taboo Rovin, Richard Pryor Black and Blue, 44. Carpio, Laughing Fit to Kill: Black Humor in the Fictions of Slavery, 88. 192 word could empty it of the hate and nullify its negative impact. Pryor writes that he first went on-stage in Berkeley and decided to take on: the most offensive, humiliating, disgraceful, distasteful, ugly, and nasty word ever used in the context of black people. The word embodied the hatred of racism as well as a legacy of self-hate. Nigger. And so this one night I decided to make it my own. Nigger. I decided to take the sting out of it. Nigger. As if saying it over and over again would numb me and everybody else to its wretchedness.489 Bruce had obviously failed to empty the word of signification, but Pryor clearly came from a much different vantage point, as he knew the word intimately from a young age, as both a recipient and as a giver. Pryor's use of the word is part of how he tests the bounds and gauges how much of his personal life story will be accepted on-stage by the audience. In The New Yorker, Hilton Als writes that: [t]he producer George Schlatter, who watched Pryor's transformation at a number of clubs in the late sixties and the early seventies, told me, 'Richard grew up in a whorehouse. The language he used, he was entitled to it... .Richard used the word 'fuck' on the way to the joke. It was part of his vocabulary. It was part of his life experience.490 The language of one's childhood might be irrelevant to a traditional actor, but it is central to the art of the stand-up comic. Redd Foxx agreed that, if Pryor is trying to speak about the black community, he needed to speak in his own vernacular: "A lot of people get mad because Richard uses the word nigger throughout his dialogue. Many think it's unnecessary. But you only have to walk down any street that's black and Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 116. Als, "Profiles: A Pryor Love." 193 you'll hear what Richard says on any corner. So, for interpretation, he's right on target."491 Viewed this way, Pryor's use of the term was actually connected to his back-to-black movement as he tried, like Gregory and Cosby, to further the possibilities of black pride and possibilities. Pryor's use of the N-word was anti-Cosby and anti-accommodationist. Pryor certainly knew that Cosby had also riffed on the ail-American icon Superman. Cosby also undermines the superhero, not by changing who he is, but altering the reactions of those around him, so that Superman is viewed as the misfit:. Cosby [as narrator]: Quickly he dashes into the phone booth. Starts to take his clothing off there. Quickly, a cop comes up. Cosby [as Superman]: Yes? Cosby [as officer, incredulous]: What are you doing in the phone booth? Cosby [as Superman, matter-of-fact]: I'm changing clothes, officer. Cosby [as officer]: You can't change clothes in the phone booth. Come out of there. Who do you think you are, anyway? Cosby [as Superman]: I'm Superman. Cosby [as officer]: Right. Bring a wagon in, Charlie! Come out of that phone booth. Cosby [as Superman]: Look, I told you I'm Superman! Can't you see this Red "S" on my chest? Cosby [as officer]: Right, I'm gonna give you a Red "S" and a black eye, if you don't come out of that phone booth.492 Cosby pokes fun of the idea of fantasy heroes, while upholding the world of the rule of law and non-aberrant behavior. Pryor sees that normalized world as dangerous and repressive, ignoring the lives of the oppressed and preventing the downtrodden from living out their own fantasies. Of course, Superman is himself an immigrant, from the Planet Krypton. The creation of two Jewish teenagers from Cleveland in the late 1930s, Superman fought against the Nazis throughout the 1940s, and became "the 4 ' Foxx and Miller, The Redd Foxx Encyclopedia of Black Humor, 210. Cosby, Bill Cosby Is a Very Funny Fellow Right! 492 194 United States' most loyal and powerful immigrant, built specifically to conform to Western cultural norms."493 As a conformist who could have taken the route of the outsider, Superman aligns more with Cosby than Pryor. By making the N-word a regular feature of his act, Pryor also put himself on the very forefront of rebellious comedians. Journalist Mark Jacobson feels that: "Using the word 'nigger' was the masterstroke. It placed him out of the mainstream, plus it made it quite clear where his racial allegiance lay. Everyone knows white people are not allowed to say that word."494 That is, rather than simply an insult, the Nword could signal solidarity with the black community, as the "use of the term nigger... is often coupled with the use of code features which are furthest removed from [Standard English]" and "serve[s] to emphasize that [Black English] is being used and that what is being engaged in is a Black speech act."495 Some observers were also hopeful that Pryor could indeed lead the way to taking the sting out of the word. Redd Foxx wrote that "Nigger no longer refers to a people; it's an attitude. 'Actin' the nigger' means acting like a damn fool."496 To that extent, utilizing the N-word was a means towards engaging with and undermining the vestiges of the minstrel image, although Pryor tends to throw a sympathetic light on those he labels with the N-word. Others warned that what mattered was who heard the offending words. The 2006 BBC documentary Life of Pryor contains footage of Dick Gregory arguing that Pryor "never used profanity as a punchline," but that problems ensued when children who did not 493 Aaron Pevey, "From Superman to Superbland: The Man of Steel's Popular Decline among Postmodern Youth" (Georgia State University, 2007), 53. 494 Williams and Williams, If I Stop I'll Die: The Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pryor, 93. 495 Claudia Mitchell-Keman, Language Behavior in a Black Urban Community (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1971). 496 Foxx and Miller, The Redd Foxx Encyclopedia of Black Humor, 263. 195 know any better heard what Pryor was saying and simply wanted to imitate the vulgarity.497 Pryor might be able to reshape the word, but his audience could just as easily repeat the epithet minus his careful recontextualization.. Pryor put the N-word into mainstream homes throughout the United States when he hosted Saturday Night Live in its first season, in 1975. Aired with a seven second delay in case Pryor used language too bold for the network, the sketch "Word Association" featured Chevy Chase interviewing a prospective employee played by Richard Pryor. Pryor replies "black" when Chase says "white" and "pod" when Chase says "bean," eventually escalating to Pryor responding "ofay, redneck, cracker, white trash, and honkey" to Chase's mention of "tar baby, colored, burrhead, spear-chucker, and jungle bunny."498 The text is cited in Pryor's autobiography with no comment other than that it "stretched the rubber band of what was normally seen on television."499 It did that, as well as demonstrating the exclusive power of the N-word, as Pryor runs out of anti-white epithets, forced to answer "honkey-honkey" to "spade" and "deaaad honkey" to Chase's ultimate card, "nigger."5"11 Pryor did not need to improvise in order to demonstrate the power of his language, although the delay demonstrated the fear that network executives have of live stand-up comics, as they had with Bruce. The very title That Nigger's Crazy comprises a shot across the bow of centrist cultural sensibilities. Here was Pryor voluntarily taking on a derogatory phrase usually uttered by racist whites or dismissive blacks, intended to deny personhood. The title 497 Smeaton, Life of Pryor: The Richard Pryor Story. Part 3, 2:35. Saturday Night Live December 13, 1975. 499 pryor, Pryor Convictions, 143. 500 Saturday Night Live 498 196 combines the criticism of the earlier "sicknik" comedians as pathological with the historical designation of racial figures as mad. As Sander Gilman reminds us, "the mad black is the nexus at which all [white] fears coalesce."501 Pryor himself links his personal mental state to the social situation of an abused people, stating on the album: "Police degrade. I don't know, you know, it's, often you wonder why a nigger don't go completely mad."502 If, as Gilman says, "the mad are perceived as the antithesis to the control and reason that define the self," then stand-up becomes a testing grounds on which the individual asserts self-control via irrationality.503 Pryor's usage of the word "mad" invokes both this sense of craziness and more than a hint of anger. That Nigger's Crazy comes out in 1974 with Pryor not yet a superstar, but a marginal figure of dissent, protesting on the sidelines without any indication that he would be allowed into the mainstream. On the contrary, the Mel Brooks film Blazing Saddles was released that year. Pryor was as a co-author of the film but the starring role went to Clevon Little as the studio considered Pryor to be overly volatile, both in terms of his reliability on-set and their ability to sell him to a mainstream audience. Use of a term imbued with so many deeply negative images of African Americans raises questions concerning the stand-up comic's use of stereotype. According to Foxx and Miller, Pryor's "performances are made up of different variations on the same theme—the nigger. It's the poolroom nigger, the barbershop nigger, the hustler nigger."504 As discussed in the previous chapter, such portrayals were invariably framed within the context of Pryor as person. So, did Pryor's 501 Gilman, Difference and Pathology: Stereotypes of Sexuality, Race, and Madness, 136. Pryor, That Nigger's Crazy. 503 Gilman, Difference and Pathology: Stereotypes of Sexuality, Race, and Madness, 24. 504 Foxx and Miller, The Redd Foxx Encyclopedia of Black Humor, 208. 502 197 characterizations of working class black life run the risk of reiterating images of conniving, lazy African Americans? Did his use of the N-word encouraged some whites to utter the word themselves, ignoring the context of Pry or's usage? Josephine Lee notes how the performance of stereotype by a traditionally racial body can "disrupt the field of what is ' natural'... set[ing] up a key tension between the stereotype and the performer."51'5 Comedy, very proficient at repeating such stereotypes, can also overload them to the extent that the process of stereotyping becomes the laughable process. For example, when Pryor delivers his routine off of That Nigger's Crazy called "Black vs. White Lifestyles," he includes social critique on cultural differences from a black perspective and also mocks the very existence of these differences. Stand-up can counter stereotype with the story of lived experiences, as Pryor also does with his tales of life growing up in Peoria. There exists the potential for the comic to rewrite past experiences in a new present. Indeed, live comedy is one of the most effective means for this sort of unveiling, as the solo comic body provides an intervention into the mass market nature of stereotypes, the very ease of reproduction which makes stereotypes so powerful. For Carpio, it is Pryor's skill at embodiment that enables him undermine stereotypes: "The fact that Pryor plays all of the roles.. .emphasizes the transferability of stereotypes and therefore frees the black body from the cliches of sex and race to which it is so often bound."5,lfi Pryor's management of his body was certainly central to 505 Josephine Lee, Performing Asian America: Race and Ethnicity on the Contemporary Stage (Temple University Press, 1998), 101. 506 Carpio, Laughing Fit to Kill: Black Humor in the Fictions of Slavery, 86. 198 his encounters with stereotypes and his success as a performer. Commentators frequently comment on his physical self. Foxx and Miller describe Pryor as long and lean, almost cadaverous in certain poses with his long, thin arms protruding awkwardly from his jacket. His fingers are also long and tapered and he uses them to great advantage as he expresses himself.... Often he'll remind you of Chaplin. He is a brilliant pantomimist.507 Williams and Williams express similar praise, speaking of an idiosyncratic dexterity: there had to be movement, and as women noted, he moved well. He had a sinewy body, more half-miler than boxer. It seemed windresistant, light-boned. He was on the stage what Dr. J was on the court; he mimicked middleweight boxers, the smooth gait of Billy Dee Williams, the cowpoke saunter of John Wayne, the stutter step of a drunk.5I,S The conundrum for Pryor (which extends to many stand-up comics) is that he had exquisite control over his body, but being a solo performer also makes it easier for audiences to view him as a stand-in for all blacks. Homi Bhabha informs us that The stereotype is not a simplification because it is a false representation of a given reality. It is a simplification because it is an arrested, fixated form of representation that, in denying the play of difference [...] constitutes a problem for the representation of the subject in significations of psychic and social relations.509 It is that fixity which grants stereotype much of its force, against which Pryor rebelled. With Pryor, we see that the comic's body constitutes a means to subvert and contextualize stereotype, even as it is the main image by which the comics are themselves fixed within that system of stereotypes. Foxx and Miller, The Redd Foxx Encyclopedia of Black Humor, 208. Williams and Williams, If I Stop I'll Die: The Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pryor, 12. 509 Bhabha, "The Other Question...Homi K Bhabha Reconsiders the Stereotype and Colonial Discourse," 27. 508 199 The apex of Pryor's attack on the country's history of racism and the minstrel stereotype comes in the title track of 1976's Bicentennial Nigger, in which Pryor demonstrates that the further one pushes the opposing scripts powering humor while maintaining a coherent narrative, the deeper the comedy. In this case, the force of paradox stems from the opposition of an insipid nationalism with the pain of slavery. Now fully famous, Richard Pryor closes the album with the title track, discoursing on black humor: "You all know how black humor started? It started in slave ships, you know—cat was on his way over here rowin', and dude said, 'What you laughing about?' He said, 'Yesterday, I was a king.'"510 Isolated, the joke is more traditional than Pryor's standard fare, but derives a subversive spark from the bravery of tackling such a subject amidst the patriotic nostalgia of 1976 and the context of the entire routine. Pryor's historical contextualization recasts the United States' celebration of 200 years as a blackface jubilee: "They're gonna have a bicentennial nigger—they will, they'll have some nigger 200 years old in blackface, with stars and stripes on his forehead. With eyes and lips just all shiny—and he'll have that lovely white-folks expression on his face."511 Pryor's use of "nigger" here harkens back to the pejorative sense of the word as employed by whites, as he purposefully invokes the Sambo stereotype. Pryor heightens the man's happiness and love of country, coupling each ironic expression of gratitude with a reminder of the legacy of slavery, recalling those who died during the middle passage and families captured and divided. With each ascending level of chuckling, one senses an increasing pain and effort behind the 510 Pryor, Bicentennial Nigger. convulsions. Pryor pushes the precarious correspondence between comedy and tragedy to near breaking point. The audience laughter here is, as described by Glenda Carpio, an "acknowledgment of the deep irony [of] Pryor's superimposition of minstrel celebration onto mournful remembrance,"512 which she relates to Ralph Ellison's description of blackness as containing "a tragicomic attitude toward the universe."513 Stand-up comedy, with its dichotomy combining the individual body with the community of spectators, is well-suited to channel the weight of that deep irony. The track ends on a serious note as Pryor transitions from the voice of the Bicentennial Nigger into his own somber statement: "Y'all probably done forgot about i t . . . But I ain't never gonna forget it." The entire routine is an astounding indictment of laughter and the last seven words again testify to the tragic possibilities set up within comedy. Indeed, they leave the audience with a chill rather than comfort, as Pryor's skill allows him to forego traditional comic closure, in which the world returns to a harmonious state. Pryor selects the importance of sharp memory over the fractured beginnings of the nation, rather than the gentle fog of nostalgia. The routine is not strictly stand-up insofar as Pryor spends most of it playing a character, but it still depends on the framing of Pryor the comedian, and the ending involves Pryor dropping the act and speaking in his "own" voice. Pryor's stand-up offended some listeners and he was attacked for his use of the N-word by those, mostly in the black press, who felt its usage reinforced negative stereotypes, repeating the hatred and harm embedded within the word. The Williamses 512 513 Carpio, Laughing Fit to Kill: Black Humor in the Fictions of Slavery, 11. Ellison, Shadow and Act, 131. 201 write that, "Black publications.. .did not excuse its use; their writers did not attempt to rationalize or psychoanalyze it; for them the word was what it was, and that was precisely why so many white people stopped using it publicly."514 According to this view, stand-up's license to confront the taboo was being used to reiterate stereotype. The Williams' book on Pryor is mostly full of praise, but they remain angry at what they feel his use of the N-word did to a black audience, forcing them to hear that hateful and hurtful word uttered by a man so many of them loved and admired, and quote an unnamed black college professor expressing a questioning anger: When I was young I went to see Jean-Paul Sartre's The Respectful Prostitute. That was the first time I'd ever heard 'nigger' spoken out in a very public place. I was angry that I'd paid my money to go and hear that, and I am still angered when I hear Pryor—I am also puzzled that he seems to get such a positive response whenever he uses the word in those things he does.515 The suggestion here is that Pryor would have been okay if he had kept that particular word hidden and only used it among his black friends. In this sense, public usage was capitulation to white power. Indeed, the Williamses argue that "White people had found a black man who could call other black people 'niggers' for them," but they also assess that Pryor's move can't have been "to make white fans smug" or for "greed" as he was already doing well.516 They ignore his expressions of wanting to rework the N-word, and only recognize two possible functions for it: among blacks as self-hatred and by racist whites. They fail to recognize that Pryor began experimenting with the N-word after he had dropped out of the Bill Cosby superstar track and long before he made it on his 514 515 5,6 Williams and Williams, If I Stop I'll Die: The Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pryor, 93-94. Ibid., 95. Ibid. 202 own, when it was far from clear that he could make money by breaking this particular taboo. Pryor also had no way of knowing he'd be saying the word at widely successful stadium concerts with integrated crowds, so it is unlikely that he ever deliberately decided to engage in its utterance as a way to delight white people. Pryor used it to confront the country with its own racism and attempt to wrest ownership of the word, successful or not. As it happens, Pryor famously decided to give up the N-word on his own. The decision was a key routine in his 1982 concert Live on the Sunset Strip: I looked around and I saw people all colors and shapes and the voice said 'Do you see any niggers?' I said 'no.' Said 'you know why? 'Cause there aren't any.' 'Cause I had been there three weeks, I hadn't said it. And it started making me cry, man, I said holy shit, all the acts I'd been doing as a artist, a comedian, and the speaking and trying to say something and I've been saying that and that's a devastating fucking word. That has nothing to do with us.517 Pryor appears to now agree with the Williamses, who state that fans applauded his Nword abandonment "because they understood, however dimly, the political ramifications of the statement."518 It certainly was a strong statement on Pryor's part, although it did little to nothing to banish the word he had introduced to stand-up comedy. It actually reinforces the recognition that language acts have different meanings at different times in different contexts. There had never been vocal audience resistance to Pryor's use of the N-word and the audience here applauds a proclamation made after an extended, occasionally sentimental narration on the epiphanies of going back to one's roots. If Pryor had resurrected "Super Nigger," they may well have celebrated that, as well. 517 Richard Pryor, Richard Pryor: Live on the Sunset Strip, 1982. ' Williams and Williams, If I Stop I'll Die: The Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pryor, 95. 203 Some of Pryor's more radical friends expressed displeasure when he disowned the N-word and Pryor got pushback from those who thought he'd "gone soft, sold out, turned my back on the cause, and all that political, militant shit."519 Writing partner Paul Mooney was asked if he was disappointed and answered: "I was, yeah, because I knew the power in it. He was giving up his throne. I loved it when he said it and he was very funny when he said it."520 Although he lapses on occasion, Mooney himself gave the word up in 2006 after Michael Richards broke down and yelled it repeatedly at the L.A. Laugh Factory,521 a further testimony to the centrality of the word's legacy in stand-up comedy, as bequeathed primarily by Richard Pryor. Mooney's change-ofmind and subsequent back-and-forth vouches for the difficulty at pinning down a single meaning for the epithet. Glenda Carpio views Pryor's abandonment of the most taboo of words as a moment when he "ultimately recoils from his power as conjurer... .Pryor became temporarily caught, like a tar baby, by his ability to transform stereotypes into objects of laughter."522 That is, the combined power of the word and Pryor's skill escalated the situation until it grew out of his control. Pryor did not drop the word because he found his voice powerless on stage; he did so because he found that it brought him too much power. He could partially reshape the stereotype he unleashed, but he could not control the ways in which it was interpreted nor empty it of past signification. Interestingly, while the Williamses deny Pryor's ability or intent to rework the N-word, elsewhere they write that "Pryor imbued words with intonation so that the 519 Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 176. Smeaton, Life of Pryor: The Richard Pryor Story. Part 5, 6:40. 521 This incident is discussed in Chapter Two. 522 Carpio, Laughing Fit to Kill: Black Humor in the Fictions of Slavery, 80. 520 204 meaning and intonation mean different things, as with bitch."523 The B-word may not be the singular anti-female term that the N-word is for blacks, but Pryor did much to make it the main term of misogyny on the stand-up stage. He was frequently accused of disliking black women in particular. With the B-word, Pryor clearly does not attempt to rewrite the term. It is not his to claim, and he uses it to reinforce stereotype. He appears unaware of the damage it could do. Mooney, when he swore off the Nword in 2006, coupled it with a declaration that he would also forsake the B-word. Derogatory terms and the broad brush of stereotype, which Gilman defines as "a crude set of mental representations of the world," closely connects to the more detailed portrayal of the individual found in stand-up.524 Writing in a psychoanalytic mode, Gilman asserts that the "creation of stereotypes is a concomitant of the process by which all human beings become individuals."525 That is, part of understanding oneself as a self involves conceiving of others as different and this process can result in the reductiveness of stereotype. If so, then stand-up's exploration of personhood does not contradict its embrace of stereotype; the two go hand-in-hand. The political problem comes when stereotypes are not contextualized or broken down, when comedians reiterate them and use laughter to bypass thinking.5261 do not deny the efficacy in some situations of diluting stereotypes via silence, but warn against a blanket ban on their use by those who have had to live encumbered by said stereotypes. 523 Williams and Williams, If I Stop I'll Die: The Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pryor, 106. Gilman, Difference and Pathology: Stereotypes of Sexuality, Race, and Madness, 17. 525 Ibid. 526 Writing on the relationship between laughter and thinking, Arthur Koestler argues that laughter arises when comic thoughts move so quickly that emotions cannot keep pace. NB Koestler, The Act of Creation, 58. There is a long tradition of fighting back using the tools of the master. As Lawrence Levine attests, "Marginal groups often embraced the stereotype of themselves in a manner designed not to assimilate it but to smother it."527 Pryor apparently plays with fire, both figuratively and literally. He recasts himself as a jester-like commentator, drawing upon comedy's license to speak outside the normal bounds of discourse. The phrase "that nigger's crazy" is normally used to dismiss a black man's personhood or "defie[s] the dictates of convention" but, as Keith Harris argues, "being declared a 'crazy' nigger bestowed a reckless freedom upon him, and an abandon which he embraced."528 Pryor takes this sense of agency one step further by embracing and bestowing the term on himself. Pryor was not always successful in his subversion, and knew that he could be criticized for complicity with the white male power structure in Hollywood. When discussing his breakthrough film, 1977's Silver Streak, Pryor said: "Gene does a scene in black face, and they felt that having a real black actor in the movie would sort of make it all right. So I'm the token black, a modern Willie Best. It was a career move, and I'm not sorry I did it."529 Known for picturing stereotypically ignorant and lazy black film characters, it could be argued that Best did the best he could given the restriction on African American actors in the first half of the twentieth century, although he's an odd choice for Pryor to cite, given that a drug bust curtailed Best's career in the 1950s and he died in near obscurity. The most embarrassing of Pryor's financially motivated moves was probably 1982's The Toy, in which Pryor is Levine, Black Culture and Black Consciousness, 336. Audrey Thomas McCluskey, ed. Richard Pryor: The Life and Legacy of A "Crazy" Black Man (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press,2008), 1. 529 Williams and Williams, If I Stop Til Die: The Comedy and Tragedy of Richard Pryor, 88. 528 essentially bought—or rented, if you prefer—by a rich white man to be a toy for the white man's son. The culminating fight takes place at a party which turns out to be a fundraiser for the Klu Klux Klan. The Grand Wizard gets dumped into pudding, winding up looking like he's wearing blackface, and the fight against racism turns into a pie-throwing extravaganza of no consequence. Indeed, comedy can be used to reinforce the fixity of stereotypes just as it can be used to undermine them. It is not happenstance that Pryor's least radical work was done when he abandoned the empowered control of stand-up comedy for film and the act of self-othering involved in playing a foreign character. We do not, of course, have to choose between Pryor's use of the N-word as revolutionary re-appropriation of a stereotype versus its utterance as a painful repetition of historical wrongs that continue to have a material impact on the present. Words have multiple meanings and so do actions, including Pryor's stand-up comedy speech acts. Pryor's racial language and his racial topics remain central to contemporary stand-up comedy, which continue to ask the questions: how much of the investigation of stereotype is a critical examination? How much of it is reinforcement through repetition? The answer varies depending on the comedian and the context; it is the questions which persist. Race as Performance: Revealing Whiteness To Mel Watkins, Pryor was precisely at his most pioneering when it came to divulging African American humor on the national stage: 207 Pryor's disclosure of previously closely guarded comic referents, racially based attitudes, and cultural eccentricities that were often 'embarrassments to the black middle class and stereotypes in the minds of most whites' was untried on the mainstream stage. Pryor was not only challenging traditional show business assumptions about the viability of ungentrified black material and an unmoderated black voice but also breaking with blacks' long-standing tradition of subterfuge and concealment of inner-community customs.530 The revelations of race may be the biggest set of taboos Pryor used to power his comedy as he marked whiteness by unveiling black stereotypes of whites. In order to constitute the violation of a taboo, Pryor's play of blackness needed to be presented before white viewers, and he did so by continuing to also play majority-white clubs even before breaking out as a national star in 1974. To be black in America is, of course, to some extent, to entail a relationship with whiteness—and vice versa, although one could argue that white awareness of blackness tends to be less conscious. Born in 1940, Pryor's humor was influenced by white television artists including Red Skelton, Jerry Lewis, and Sid Caesar, all of whom he credits in his 1995 autobiography. Throughout his life story, Pryor oscillates. On the one hand, he recognizes the ridiculousness of racism and the shared humanity between all people. He sat in the movies, where: "My brain didn't segregate people by race. My eyes didn't see any one color.... I lost myself in the fantasy projected onscreen. My heroes included Tarzan, Rhonda Fleming, Milton Berle, Kirk Douglas, Sid Caesar, and Boris Karloff. I loved Jerry Lewis."531 On the other hand, racist behavior sparks a heightened consciousness of race. Forbidden to join white spectators in the front section of the theater in the 1950s, he leaves in protest. His departure from 531 Watkins, On the Real Side: A History of African American Comedy, 544. Pryor, Pryor Convictions, 44. 208 mainstream television in the 1960s could be seen as a similar move, so that "[ijnstead of adapting to the white perspective, he forced white audiences to follow him into his own experience."532 Pryor himself was frequently worried that white audiences were too appreciative of his work. According to Blue Collar director Paul Schrader, the "more successful he is in the white world, the more resentful he becomes, the more afraid that he's not being black enough."533 To say that one can change their behavior to be more or less black, implies that race is, at least to an extent, performative. In Live and Smokin\ Pryor speaks openly of his attempts to escape blackness when younger. Claiming that there were about three Puerto Ricans in 1950s Midwest, Pryor says that he tried to pass as one of them in order to make it with girls, but he is very clear that wanting to avoid blackness is not the same as wanting to claim whiteness: "I always wanted to be something, I never wanted to be white . . . No, I always wanted to be something different, you know, than a nigger, because niggers had it so rough."534 Pryor's 1977 NBC television show promoted racial understanding, particularly in its skits with children of various races, but did not try to erase race. Consider the skit in which Pryor plays a black President of the United States who begins with a somewhat stiff and generic white poise, becoming increasingly less tight and more aggressive in response to prodding from reporters. The skit tackles the association of blackness with belligerence by contextualizing the anger as an understandable response to inappropriate questions on the part of white reporters. 532 Als, "Profiles: A Pryor Love." Rovin, Richard Pryor Black and Blue, 152. 534 Blum, Richard Pryor: Live and Smokin'. 533 209 To a large extent, what I call Pryor's "White Person's Voice" is the antithesis to this ethnocentrism—it is the representation of the generic white mainstream. It is the voice of the television announcer we hear on "Super Nigger," informing us that "We find Supernigger with his x-ray vision that enables him to see through everything except Whitey....shuffling in to Perry White's office."535 Perry White lives up to his name, and Pryor uses very much the same White Person's Voice for both the announcer and Mr. White, whereas Super Nigger shares the jive-talkin' voice Pryor uses on the rest of the album when performing his standard stage persona. The announcer and Perry White represent whiteness as blandness, as the disembodied voice of American national discourse. It is the voice that has often erased the black voice. Indeed, after NBC censors cut the planned opening of Pryor's TV show, he began the third show ranting and raving about their treatment—only he had the audio replaced by the voice of a white announcer expressing Pryor's pleasure at working for NBC. Pryor's standard generic white character is stiff, a conformist who is distinctly uncomfortable with the biological functions of the human body—with being a body, one might say, rather than just an abstract universal. Pryor's routine "Black and White Lifestyles," which is also from That Nigger's Crazy, mocks the white man's relationship to the body. He makes the white universal strange, marks it as odd, stating incredulously that "They eat quiet." His White Person's Voice is steady and heavily enunciated, with distinct pauses that the audience fills with laughter. Playing the white man at a dinner table, Pryor says 535 Pryor, Richard Pryor. 210 Pass the potatoes, [audience laughter] Thank you darling, [audience laughter] Could I have a bit of that sauce? [audience laughter] How are the kids coming along with their studies? [audience laughter] Think we'll be having sexual intercourse this evening? [audience laughter] We're not? Well what the heck.5™ Whiteness has desire that it does not know how to fulfill, and this is tied to a lack of play: Pryor-as-Pryor says: "See white folks don't play enough, they don't relax. They don't know how to play the dozens or nothin'. Right, they get uptight. You tell a white dude go fuck yourself, oh fuck you motherfucker, they get very offended." Switching to a White Person's Voice, Pryor continues: "I beg your pardon. I mean, as supervisor here, I don't believe that kind of language is necessary. We can certainly communicate on a higher plane than that." White individuals—white men, in particular—are not individual bodies but instruments of whiteness itself. White people do play, but they are stiff and conservative, playing good citizens greeting the police, proper fathers and husbands, and office supervisors. Pryor races whiteness, associating it with both power and emasculation. Take, as a prime example, the entire routine entitled "Shortage of White People" from 1975's Is It Something I Said?: Good God. Oh, a lot of niggers here today. Some white folks, too. Lookit here. You motherfuckers come in a bunch, didn't ya? [Switching to a White Person's Voice:] Stick with me, don't worry about a thing, just come on. [Switching back:] Shortage of white people lately. I ain't seen no white folks no more. Y'all stop fuckin'? White folks into yoga. You can't get no nut doing no yoga. You got to get the puss-ay. They stopped fucking cause some rich white man told 'em, said. [Switching to a White Person's Voice:] But come on, cut the crap. Jesus Christ, there's too many people on Earth. I have no place to ride my horsie. [Switching back:] There will be no shortage of niggers. Niggers is fuckin'. We got to have somebody here to take over.537 536 537 , That Nigger's Crazy. Richard Pryor, Is It Something I Said? (Warner Bros., 1975). 211 Once again, Pryor centers blackness while acknowledging (and decentering) whiteness, which has little room for difference. Indeed, there is no difference in this routine between the average white audience member and the apocryphal rich white man. The flip side to Pryor's portrayal of white weakness is his depiction of black resilience: "Niggers never get burned up in buildings. They know how to get out of a motherfuckin' situation. They do. They —white folk just panic, run to the door, fall all over each other. Choke to death and shit."538 Many of his routines on That Nigger's Crazy are compare and contrasts between blacks and whites, such as "Exorcist," which describes how blacks would behave differently when confronted by a child possessed by the devil. According to Pryor, the movie would have been over "As soon as the devil spoke. [Pryor speaks in the Devil's voice:} Hellooooo? [Pryor drops the Devil's voice:} Goodbye."539 In "Niggers vs. the Police," Pryor contrasts blacks with whites who are both the enforcers and beneficiaries of a racist power structure, saying: "White folks don't believe that shit, don't believe cops degrade."540 Here, Pryor switches to a version of what I call his "White Person's Voice," for the generic white reaction of "Oh come on, those beatings, those people were resisting arrest...."541 Pryor drops back into his regular stage voice, explaining: "Cuz the police live in your neighborhood, see. And you be knowing 'em as Officer Timpson."542 He then returns to the white character: "Hello, Office Timpson, going bowling tonight? Yes, uh, nice Pinto you have. Huh huh 538 Pryo^ fhat Nigger's Crazy. 539 Ibid. 540 Ibid. 541 Ibid. 542 Ibid. 212 huh."543 Throughout the album, Pryor centers blackness while acknowledging whiteness—the use of the pronoun "you" when referring to white people also serves to establishes their presence in the audience and adds an edge to his racial material as he reinforces its public nature. He marks whiteness, making it visible and race-ing it. The extraordinary impact of Pryor's image-making can be seen in the extent to which subsequent black comedians, from Eddie Murphy to Dave Chappelle, when presenting characters, engage largely in an imitation of Pryor's particular performances of whiteness. Epilogue The blackface of minstrelsy was the first mass entertainment form of American comedy, and the American stage has long had white entertainers presenting their versions of black song and dance—and humor. Pryor revolves the whole structure. From the redneck sheriff of "Prison Play" to the suburban white of "Black and White Lifestyles," Pryor flipped a centuries-old American performance tradition of blackface on its head. By inhabiting whiteness, he mocks its traits and decenters it as a norm while he empowers and contextualizes blackness, allowing it previously forbidden public expression. Pryor's approach to whiteness was revolutionary both in the sense that it was a first, and in the sense that it involved a 180 degree reversal of the history of race on the American stage. If Eric Lott is right in saying that minstrelsy was in part the maintenance of control over the performance of blackness, "the danger of the simple public display of 543 Ibid. 213 black practices, the offering of them for white enjoyment," then Pryor provides the tests of what happens when you put the major means of this into black hands.544 The combined lineage of Dick Gregory, Bill Cosby, and Richard Pryor established black men as the predominant voices of stand-up comedy, but it was predominantly Pryor who shifted the performance movement back onto the track pioneered by Bruce, with open explorations of race and ethnicity, a testing ground of taboo language and topics, full of confessions and an intimately personal relationship with the audience. For white audiences, it was a chance to relinquish some power in exchange for greater racial understanding and admission into the cutting edge of urban culture represented by Pryor, reminiscent of the jazz cool prized by Lenny Bruce. For black audiences, it was the first opportunity in the nation's history to be represented with such humanity by a black comedian on the main stage, and laughing with Pryor became part pleasure and part protest. 544 Lott, Love & Theft: Blackface Minstrelsy and the American Working Class, 113. 214 Afterword America's five hundred or so comedy clubs have become^ree speech zones, public places where First Amendment freedom is virtually unrivaled. It is a given of contemporary American culture: only in a comedy club can one get a full and saucy taste of freedom.545 —Ronald K. L. Collins and David M. Skover Bruce, Gregory, Cosby, Pryor: The Legacy The burgeoning fixation on individuality in the United States following World War II has often travelled hand-in-hand with a decline in broader social assistance. Emily Martin's 2007 text, Bipolar Expeditions, describes the phenomenon in economic terms, portraying how a society increasingly ruled by neo-liberal doctrines has led the individual to "creatively pursue his or her own development with the aid of fewer supports than ever before....In this environment, the individual is responsible for his or her own success or failure in a high-stakes and ever-changing set of arenas."546 Caught between demands to conform and the pressure to express individuality, we seek a model of performative being that is highly adaptable. Robert Lifton calls this individual a "protean self.. .buffeted about by unmanageable historical forces and social uncertainties," leading to a "mode of being [which] differs radically from that of the past, and enables us to engage in continuous exploration and personal experiment."547 Stand-up comedy provides one possible paradigm, illustrating how the 545 Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 431. Emily Martin, Bipolar Expeditions: Mania and Depression in American Culture (Princeton University Press, 2007), 41. 547 Robert Jay Lifton, The Protean Self: Human Resilience in an Age of Fragmentation (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1993), 1. 546 215 solo person can operate amidst apparent entropy with the security of an ironic outlook.548 It is an update to the traditional structure of comedy, focusing on what it means to be an individual in the modern age.549 The stand-up comic fits the image of personhood outlined by Linda Martin Alcoff, who writes that her: concept of cultural citizenship is meant to counter a model of the abstract individual citizen who participates in civil society as a rational agent imagined to have no gender, race, or cultural background....In actuality, the public arena is a space where women and men of various races and cultures negotiate with one another.55" Not abstract citizens, stand-up comics are individuals extraordinarily sensitive to their gender, race, and cultural background, potentially reminding of us of what it means to be cultural citizens. It is against and with the audience that the stand-up comic stands up, simultaneously one of the crowd and yet distinct from it. The intimacy of the relationship is literal as well as metaphoric, affecting the very shape of comedy clubs, where comics frequently reach the stage by making their way through the house. This movement echoes the passage of the personal into the public, accentuating the impression of comics appearing on-stage as if rising from amongst the ranks of the audience. On a 2004 visit to the Punch Line in Sacramento, my companion expressed surprise when an audience member walked next to our table, headed to the stage, and turned to face the crowd, only to transform into Margaret Cho. A number of clubs seat 548 Lifton quite explicitly connects the protean self to comedy, stating that the "protean self lives in a realm of absurdity, embraces a tone of mockery and self-mockery along with a spirit of irony, and often bathes its projects in humor." Ibid., 94. 549 There is, of course, a lengthy history of fascination with self-fashioning. NB Stephen Greenblatt's assertion that "in the sixteenth century there appears to be an increased self-consciousness about the fashioning of human identity as a manipulable, artful process." Stephen Greenblatt, Renaissance SelfFashioning: From More to Shakespeare (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1980), 2. 550 Linda Martin Alcoff, Visible Identities: Race, Gender, and the Self (New York City: Oxford University Press, 2006), 40. 216 ticket holders at tables which press flush against the main stage; during a 2007 show at Rooster T. Feathers in Sunnyvale, comedian Dana Carvey stowed his water bottle on one such occupied table, motivated by the practical need for space, but playfully acknowledging that he was taking advantage of stand-up comedy's license to breach the proscenium and address the audience directly. The stand-up club is a public arena of negotiation, a space in which the audience unites around the person of the performer and also divides, as iteration of stereotype can be aimed at members of the audience, changing the way that they view themselves and others. Despite being largely overlooked in the academy, stand-up comedy continues to play a pronounced role in the staging of contemporary popular culture in the United States. Stand-up comics have achieved widespread success in live performance at comedy clubs, night clubs, casinos and concert stadiums. In addition, their skill at fashioning persona allows them to prosper as artists in other media, including film stars Steve Martin and Eddie Murphy; auteur director Woody Allen; sitcom icons Bill Cosby, Jerry Seinfeld, and George Lopez; and talk show hosts David Letterman, Jay Leno, Rosie O'Donnell and Ellen DeGeneres. Following a 1979 strike by comics against the Comedy Store in Los Angeles and the rise of chain comedy clubs in the 1980s, the art form became a more viable career. One need only watch one of the six seasons of NBC's competition show Last Comic Standing"1 to recognize that there are thousands of aspiring stand-ups across the country. The comedians discussed in this dissertation comprise the key performers who shaped stand-up comedy in its formative 551 2003-2008. 217 first decades; no subsequent stand-up comic has been able to escape the influence of Lenny Bruce, Dick Gregory, Bill Cosby, and Richard Pryor. Lenny Bruce's utterances remain embedded in the vocabulary of the comedy club. Every time a comic like Sam Kinison, Eddie Murphy, or the myriad performers on HBO's Def Comedy Jam drops a so-called F-bomb, they follow in Bruce's footsteps. More significantly, his use of the medium to verbally dismantle taboos emerges in the social criticism of comics like Bill Hicks and Dave Chappelle. It is also difficult to imagine the stand-up comedy discourse without discussions of ethnicity, as with Russell Peters. When Azhar Usman expressly utilizes stand-up comedy as a forum in which to explain his religion to a non-Muslim audience, he borrows from the Bruce playbook. Every comic of color who chooses between an overtly racial act versus one which downplays differences chooses, consciously or not, between the divergent paths pioneered by Dick Gregory and Bill Cosby. Although he has been largely forgotten by the public, Gregory's political commentary may be more influential, from Pryor to Chris Rock, while performers such as Sinbad and Tim Allen have followed in Cosby's family-friendly formula. Some comics have taken both routes. Eddie Murphy began his career with very race-conscious material before his later film work went in the direction of Cosby. From Katt Williams to Wanda Sykes, options remain those first scouted by Gregory and Cosby. The ghost of Richard Pryor, who used stand-up to explore the depths of pain and confront the performance of race, continues to dominate the field. We hear Pryor in Robin Williams when the former, who was a regular on Pryor's short-lived 218 television series, speaks of sex and cocaine use. George Lopez, whose stand-up routines about growing up Mexican American harkens back to Pry or's tales of Peoria, once re-traced the very route Pryor had run, on fire, after his suicide attempt. Pryor himself felt that he had "passed the torch on to Chappelle," who replied that such a compliment was "more pressure" than the $50 million dollar Comedy Central contract Chappelle abandoned.552 At its best, stand-up troubles taboos, dissecting and destabilizing stereotypes. The twenty-first century question is how possible it remains to do this on a wide scale, as television and film continue to lure comedians away from life on the road. The greater the ease with which stand-up comics can obtain television specials (let alone internet appearances on sites such as FunnyOrDie), the less of a chance they have to hone their on-stage personas in the clubs as did the subjects of this dissertation. It is instructive that Chappelle, having achieved his greatest acclaim and financial success on television, nonetheless abandoned that very lucrative endeavor in order to return to the intimacy of the live, precisely because places like the Punch Line in San Francisco and the Laugh Factory in Los Angeles grant him a closer connection with the audience and correspondingly greater control over the reception of his performances of identity and stereotype. He, like most top comedians of today, acknowledges the history of those who paved the way. In the words of Margaret Cho, whose work plays out at the intersections of race, gender, and sexuality, "Lenny Bruce gave me permission to do what I do."553 552 Rebecca Leung, "Chappelle: 'an Act of Freedom'," CBSNews, December 29, 2004. Quoted in Collins and Skover, The Trials of Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon, 431. 553 219 Stand-up Comedy's Glass Curtain: the Gender Gap The future of stand-up comedy will be related to its past, of course, but its historically-based nature suggests that the form will continue to evolve, shaped by its practitioners and the times. Stand-up has traditionally served as a forum for minority voices, so the future may come to star those voices which have thus far remained out of the spotlight. In particular, given stand-up's capacity to tackle social issues which are both national and personal, one might have expected a gender breakthrough similar to Bruce's introduction of ethnicity or Pryor's precedent-setting confrontation of race, but when it comes to female performers, stand-up has been a let-down. The relative dearth of major women stand-up comics is particularly startling when one considers the amount of stand-up material which revolves around gender stereotypes. The most common explanation for stand-up's fraternal cast has been its concurrence of aggression and power. Philip Auslander wryly assesses that a "performance genre that apparently depends on the dominance of the audience by the performer through phallic assertion does not seem a promising candidate as a medium for women's expression."554 Many practitioners agree with critics and theorists on the subject. New York comedy club owner Cary Hoffman expresses views widespread in the industry that "[s]tand-up comedy has a lot to do with control and power. And most 554 Philip Auslander, '"Brought to You by Fern-Rage': Stand-up Comedy and the Politics of Gender," in Acting Out: Feminist Performances, ed. Lynda Hart and Peggy Phelan (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 1993). 220 men seem to exercise it more easily than women."535 This precept would suggest that a sufficiently aggressive female comic could achieve superstardom on the stage, but this has yet to happen. In contrast, the fields of music, movies, and television all boast a greater number of female stars. The most successful female stand-ups have left their strongest mark in other media, including Joan Rivers guest-hosting The Tonight Show, Roseanne Barr's groundbreaking sitcom, and Ellen DeGeneres's sitcom and talk show. Resistance to female comics comes from multiple fronts, from club owners to network executives, and from agents to audiences. Eddie Brill, who books comics and serves as the warm-up act for The Late Show with David Letterman, speculates that it is the audience in general and the male audience in particular who spurn potent women, stating that: "My gut tells me that society doesn't like to see a woman in power, and standing on a stage [telling jokes] is a powerful position... Some of the best comedians on the planet are female. But a lot of men are afraid to laugh at a woman. It sometimes can turn insecure men into even more insecure people."556 Accordingly, the tight-knit feedback loop between audience and performer which powers stand-up also provides the former with veto power over the comedic transaction, with female comics at a palpably greater risk of rejection. Studies of laughter suggest that while men are particularly resistant to laughing at female jokers, "neither males nor females laughed as much at female as male speakers."557 555 Susan Horowitz, Queens of Comedy: Lucille Ball, Phyllis Diller, Carol Burnett, Joan Rivers, and the New Generation of Funny Women (Amsterdam: Gordan and Breach Science Publishers, 1997), 4. 556 Paul Farhi, "Beaten to the Punch Line: The Odds against Female Stand-up Comedians Are No Laughing Matter," Washington Post, March 31, 2007, C1. 557 Robert R. Provine, Laughter: A Scientific Investigation (U.S.A.: Viking Penguin, 2000), 28. 221 A number of female comics seek audience acceptance by propagating the humor of conventional gender stereotypes, which typically entails a heightened use of profanity and a steady dose of misogyny, frequently self-directed. A representative joke from the trailblazing Phyllis Diller reads as follows: "Most people get an appointment at a beauty parlor. I was committed. I spent seven hours there, and that was just for the estimate. The receptionist told me, 'Lady, we do repairs, not reclamations.' That ugly, insulting broad. She's had so many face-lifts, there's nothing left in her shoes!"538 The pressure to adopt a male-centered approach comes from the wings as well as from the floor; when discussing her decision to "play on the boys' side and tell more R-rated jokes," aspiring comic Diane Cupps cites her male colleagues' disparagement of women-centered comedy topics.559 Bruce underscored the underlying antagonism between comics and their audiences, but in order to create a friction that is generative rather than static, the comic must have reign to tap into an acerbity that is endemic to their personal and social selves, rather than emulating the anger of others. When adopting the preferences of male comics, female comedians run the risk of losing the rich specificity made possible when fashioning material from one's own life.560 558 Phyllis Diller, Like a Lampshade in a Whorehouse (New York: Penguin, 2005), 43. Dusti Rhodes, "Funny Business: Playing with the Boys," Houston Press, May 24, 2007. 560 Some exponents of women comics protest that gender difference shouldn't factor into matters of humor. Journalist Paul Farhi writes of Allyson Jaffe (part owner and manager of the D.C. Improv) who, although "acknowledging that female comics do have to combat audience expectations that they will present predictable 'female' material...says the best performers - male or female - have a universal appeal. Jaffe cites a comedy-club veteran such as Kathleen Madigan: 'A man or a woman could say what she does and it would be funny. It doesn't matter what sex she is. It's just funny.'" Farhi, "Beaten to the Punch Line: The Odds against Female Stand-up Comedians Are No Laughing Matter," CI. Leaving aside the questionable existence of "universal appeal," this well-intended inclusiveness contains flaws similar to the embracement of predominantly sexist humor, in that both run contrary to stand-up's dependence on the personal. To adopt the predilections of a group to which one does not 559 222 Of all the female comics who have attempted to storm stand-up's main stage, Roseanne Barr (b. 1952) is the most financially successfully and the only to have cracked the top ten of Comedy Central's "100 Greatest Stand-ups of All Time," where she occupies position number nine.561 Barr continues the tradition of female selfdeprecation, particularly when it comes to body image, but does so with a defiant twist. Her HBO special On Location: the Roseanne Barr Show contains jokes such as: "I go in this dress shop, I ask this brat, you got anything to make me look thinner? She says yeah, howsabout a month in Bangladesh? Rude, you know. I hate them types anyways, so I tell her, you know, hey, I eat the same amount of food that you eat, I just don't puke when I'm done."562 Barr reiterates prevailing cultural attitudes concerning women and weight, but also points to the negative repercussions of these pressures, and verbalizes resistance. Barr's meteoric rise to fame began with appearances on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson and continued with her ABC sitcom. Unlike Sahl, Bruce, and Pryor, she had most of her greatest success on television and not via stand-up. Even her HBO special belongs to the lineage of television variety shows as much as it does to documentaries of stand-up such as Pryor's Live in Concert, given that it mixes footage of live stand-up alongside scripted video clips of Barr and two "stage" families. On television, her person and personality could be edited by a production team and diluted with the presence of other characters, particularly the ubiquitous nuclear family. This belong, or to speak in an all-embracing universal voice, is to abdicate the unique puissance of stand-up. The reality is that women are often asked to laugh at male-centered humor and frequently do, even while female-centered stand-up remains the exception. 56i Pryor tops the list, with Bruce third, Cosby eighth, and Gregory a lowly eight-first. There are nine women on the list, which appears to gauge fame amongst audiences and fellow comics. 562 On Location: The Roseanne Barr Show. Home Box Office: 1987. 223 meant relinquishing some of the personal details which fuel stand-up. Most tellingly, the series omits her background of growing up Jewish in Salt Lake City. We cannot know how Barr would have developed as a more fully-developed stand-up persona, because she found her audience support in the Nielson ratings, and not in the comedy clubs. Her story suggests that stand-up success is not reliant solely on the performer even the most aggressive comics need audiences which are open, and up to the task. It could also be that the unfulfilled opportunity for gender awareness to dominate standup comedy has been impeded by two trends begun in the 1980s: the cooption of comics by television before they have a chance to develop more fully on the road, and the leveling effect of chain comedy clubs. Margaret Cho (b. 1968) is a prime example of the protean self unable to harness its fragmentation and achieve audience acceptance on a mass market level. In contrast to Barr, Cho has maintained an extended stand-up career, returning to the stage after a failed 1994 sitcom. In her breakthrough concert film, I'm the One That I Want, Cho relates her struggles against television's tendency to simplify its comedians. She tells of a writer named Gary [Jacobs] who: took five minutes of my stand-up comedy and stretched it out into a half hour pilot about a rebellious daughter growing up in a conservative Korean household, when the real story was that I had moved back home after a brief stab at independence, and I couldn't even live in the house, I had to live in the basement, because my father didn't want to watch me come down off crystal meth. [Audience laughter.] Now that would have been a great sitcom. [Audience laughter and applause.]™ Cho and her stand-up audience share the implicit joke that the generalizing power of sitcoms waters down complicated and troubling life stories, which are better-suited for 563 I'm the One That I Want, 2000. 224 the particularity of stand-up. Like Barr, Cho was obliged to excise key elements of her performative self when transitioning from stand-up to the small screen and its economy of scale. On the stage, she manifests her individuality through narratives expounding on life in America as experienced by women, non-heterosexuals, and people of color. In the mass market, her narrative identity continues to be perceived as overly provincial, preventing her from standing in as an everywoman. I suspect that the same personalization of the artist which drove the development of stand-up can actually work against the affirmation of female comics, which is why performers such as Cho still find themselves standing on the margins, playing to smaller audiences. The contradiction comes into focus when comparing criticism of Barr and Cho with that of Sahl, Bruce, and Pryor. Sahl was chastised for venturing away from the jokes and demeanor of the traditional nightclub comedian, with an early Time magazine review grumbling that he "freewheels through a labyrinth of rambling asides to his punch lines," with "too much smugness and too little showmanship"364; Bruce was attacked for his use of profanity and his portrayals of religion; and Pryor was attacked for his use of the N-word. Despite their use of personal material to make public humor, the men tend to be assailed for their actions and utterances, rather than their person or body. That is why, when Bruce was jailed for drug use or prosecuted for obscenity, it was done in the guise of combating a societal ill. In contrast, Barr and Cho undergo vilification of what would commonly be considered their person. For example, after Barr's controversial rendition of the national anthem at a Padres baseball game, the front page headline of the San Diego ™ "The Tiger & the Lady," Time, April 21, 1958. 225 Union read "The Fat Lady Sings (Poorly),"565 while hate mail directed against Cho for her 2004 benefit work on behalf of the political action group Moveon.Org "involved people calling her a 'chink whore,' telling her to go back to North Korea, [and] making fun of her 'slanty eyes.'"566 The double bind of the female stand-up comic is to work within a medium built on performers using their private lives to craft highly individual public personas, in a culture reluctant to accept this individualization in women playing themselves. Excluded from the media mobility acquired by male stand-ups from Pryor to Seinfeld, the exclusion itself becomes fuel for Cho's comedy. Thus far rejected by the vast white television audience, Cho finds empowerment in the margins of stand-up. She regularly privileges the gay men in her audience, situating herself as a heterosexual woman in their midst, proclaiming that: "I am a fag hag. Fag hags are the backbone of the gay community. Without us, you're nothing."567 Cho's affiliation with disempowered groups helps explain the fervor of her audience, which has fewer public individuals representing its collective voice. The urge to obtain the widest possible audience remains. Before debuting her short-lived reality show "The Cho Show" on VH1, Cho told The New York Times that: "I want mainstream acceptance, I want huge success, I want to play huge stadiums.. .1 just do."56R The precedents of Bruce, Gregory, Cosby, and Pryor, suggest that new bonds between mainstream audiences and previously unaccepted minority subjects will continue to emerge. That the field 565 Buck Wolf, "Oh Say, Can't You Sing: Celebs Who Tortured the National Anthem," http://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/WolfFiles/story?id= 1941484. 566 "When Comedy and Activism Violently Collide: Margaret Cho Sounds Off," Asia Pacific Arts(2005), http://www.asiaarts.ucla.edu/article.asp?parentid=35019. 567 I'm the One That I Want. 568 Mireya Navarro, "Returning in Her Favorite Role, Herself," The New York Times, August 8, 2008. 226 has yet to produce a female comic playing "huge stadiums" on the level of Pryor—or, for that matter, Steve Martin—indicates that stand-up comedy continues to be in flux, with plenty of opportunity for further development on the side of both performer and audience. Standing Up I consider stand-up comedy the most potent vehicle in the contemporary United States for comedy's traditional role in confronting issues of social importance. In part, this is because, as a live act performed by a single body, stand-up can resist commodification more effectively than comedic films or television sitcoms. The mass market nature of Hollywood films, for example, dampens their ability to tackle taboos with candor. Stand-up at its most complex does not simply repeat stereotypes but questions them, revealing the processes by which they operate. As Homi Bhabha argues, when dealing with stereotype, "the point of intervention should shift from the identification of images as positive or negative, to an understanding of the processes of subjedification made possible (and plausible) through stereotypical discourse"569 The exceptional skills of Bruce, Gregory, Cosby and Pryor in this area accounts for much of the scope of their influence, and also plays substantially into why I treat them as representative of the best of stand-up comedy's potential. 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