Supposedly the earliest recorded joke is a Sumerian one from 1900 BC, and it goes like this: “Something that has never occurred since time immemorial, a young woman did not fart on her husband’s lap.” (Somehow it seems fitting that one of humanity’s oldest known wisecracks is a fart joke). Another one, from ancient Greece, follows the more traditional “set-up, punchline” construction like so: A professor is on a sailing voyage with his slaves when a terrible storm begins tossing the boat about and the slaves start to panic. Seeing their fear he says: “Don’t worry, I’ve freed you all in my will!”
Both of these jokes prove that humor is subjective (especially the first, what a stinker). But they also prove something else: humor is subversive. It works by misdirecting and then upending our expectations. Humor can challenge our sensibilities, allowing us to laugh cathartically at things that are no laughing matter. It can be as broad and dumb as a pratfall or sharp as a satire making fun of a powerful figure to his face without him ever noticing a thing. It allows us to say things that would otherwise be taboo, to mock presidents and outdated norms, to slip in some hard truths with the lubricant of laughter—all while providing cover for one’s intent. Fundamentally, comedy is essential to the human condition, the yin to the yang of suffering. It looks different to different people and its logic often changes across cultures (and yet I challenge you to name a single group of people that wouldn’t laugh at a pie-in-the-face gag).
And so here’s another joke for you:
Knock knock. Who’s there? It’s our call for submissions for The Markaz Review’s COMEDY issue! Did you think that joke was crap and unfunny? Send us 2,000 words to tell us why. Better yet, tell us what you find funny, tell us some untranslatable jokes in your language or dialect or culture, tell us what you think is the difference between laughing at and laughing with, and whether we might be taking all the humor out of humor by lecturing people on what’s funny and what’s not. Or explore the black edges of comedy: tragicomedy, piercing satire, the absurdity of bureaucracy, war, family, the humiliations of love, and the human impulse to crack a joke in the midst of despair and in the face of terror. We’re looking for fiction, non-fiction, art, photography, poetry, musings, graphic work and all hybrid forms in between. You can submit humorous writing or writing about humor—maybe even both.
Our submission deadline is September 1st. We’re not kidding: get writing!
Submit here (our submission portal is opening on August 21) : DUOSUMA
In addition to six bimonthly themed issues a year, The Markaz Review publishes regular weekly pieces. Our mission is broad but specific: to amplify voices from the “center of the world”—the Middle East, North Africa, and Southwest Asia (SWANA). In a world riven by injustice and inequality, we seek writing from and about these regions oft-overlooked, dismissed, and/or reduced to caricature and stereotype in and by western narratives. To this end, we invite submissions all year-round: essays, feature articles, short stories, memoir, translations, creative nonfiction, poetry, reviews of books, film, music, art, and theatre, as well as compelling profiles and interviews. For specific information about submissions (e.g., word length and how to query), please review our FAQ section. TMR is open to both emerging and established writers, and to writing in multiple languages, with a single caveat: literary excellence. So go ahead — wow us, surprise us, impress us, humble us, teach us.
Submit here: DUOSUMA
