Three men are sitting in a language classroomâa British man, a Spaniard and a Czech. One of them, David, has just discussed his confusion when first visiting the USA on encountering the sign âcomfort stationâ, meaning public toilets. This triggers an anecdote from the Czech Marek:
(â@â represents one syllable of laughter. See Appendix for full transcription conventions)
- 1 Marek:
- in Poland you have (.) two marks (.)
- 2 David:
- yeah yeah (5)
- 3 Marek:
- ((draws a triangle and circle in his notebook and shows the others)) I always confuse (2)
- 4 David:
- and that is for (.) toilet? (.)
- 5 Marek:
- that is for woman and for for man (.) ((points to the symbols))
- 6 David:
- oh really? (2)
- 7 Marek:
- I didnât- I didnât- (.) I canât <@ I canât (.) remember what is what > =
- 8 All:
- = @@@ =
- 9 Marek:
- = <@ and I waited for (.) I waited for someone who will =
- 10 David:
- = OK =
- 11 Marek:
- = who will (.) (come) in > =
- 12 All:
- @@@[@@*
- 13 David:
- [serious Marek (.) serious* (3)
- 14 Juan:
- ((leans across and draws a square in Marekâs notebook)) and this is for Barcelona supporters =
- 15 All:
- = @@@@@@
You are doubtless puzzled by the final remark by the Spaniard Juan and the laughter it produces within the group. There seems to be nothing funny about it except perhaps in the sense of strange rather than amusing. It could not be retold as a joke to other people (despite being framed as such in the opening sentence of this introduction). It might be argued that you had to be there to appreciate what was happening but, in truth, that only tells half the story. In fact, you would have to have been there for some time in order to understand the exchanges and savour the wit in Juanâs utterance because his punchline only works with reference to exchanges which the group had had earlier in the day.
The interaction above actually forms part of an investigation which is at the centre of this book, so you will need to read on if you want to find out why Juanâs remark was so appreciated by his conversational participants. This data, and others like it, only makes sense in the context of a groupâs shared history. It is only when seen through the prism of that shared history that Juanâs wit becomes evident. Had it not been recorded, this brief and unremarkable interaction would doubtless soon have been forgotten. Indeed, it occurred on the very last day of this particular groupâs time together. Yet I hope that the content of this book makes clear that the significance of this episode and others like it lies beyond the fleeting pleasure it gave to those present at the time. I argue that it provides a vital insight into the language classroom as a dynamic cultural entity and reveals that humorous play is often a very important part of that dynamism.
1.1 The Trigger for My Research
The seed of an idea which eventually germinated and became the research project on which this volume is based was sown while I was working as an English language teacher. For a long time, I was employed by an organisation which, for the purposes of my research, I will call BizLang. It was based in London and offered English language and communication skills training to business executives. As part of my job, I often oversaw the short intensive courses which the company ran. It was my responsibility to ensure that participants were allocated to suitable groups, to monitor their progress and welfare and to provide pedagogical support to the teaching team when needed. I came to realise that when I heard the sound of laughter emanating from a classroom, I felt reassured that all was going well behind its closed door. This realisation got me thinking about the related but not identical phenomena of laughter, humour and play, and their place in the language classroom setting. This heightened awareness planted questions in my head, especially when I was teaching groups myself. Why, for example, did I find that when I took over a group from another teacher, I was often puzzled by things that the group members said which would make them laugh but leave me initially perplexed? Why was it that the presence of humour, play and laughter seemed to be such a useful barometer of a groupâs well-being? How did learners, especially those at the lower end of the proficiency spectrum, manage to have fun in a language over which, on the face of it, they had little mastery?
These questions set me on a path to find out more about the nature of humour and play. My initial exploration of the literature made me realise that play among L1 speakers 1 of Englishâpeople who had spoken the language since childhoodâseems to involve competences that the course participants I was focussing on do not generally possess when operating in English. Play among L1 speakers often depends on mutually understood cultural references, prowess at manipulating the forms of the language, or indeed both (Carter 2004; Chiaro 1992; Cook 2000; Crystal 1998; Holmes 2007; Norrick 2007). Yet the learners who are the focus of the research featured in this book have acknowledged limitations when communicating in English (otherwise, they would have no need to enrol on a language course) and, given that they are put into mixed nationality groups, seem to have few shared cultural reference points on which to draw. Furthermore, the BizLang course participants are strangers when they first meet and part company after only three, five or at most ten days together. This is significant because, although the use of humour can accrue significant social benefits, it also carries high social risks if it backfires, which is one reason why it tends to occur more frequently in intimate or informal settings (Carter 2004; Straehle 1993). Furthermore, the course participants work together in a pressurised, hothouse atmosphere where measurable progress in their English communication skills can subsequently have a direct impact on their career prospects. All these factors suggest a context which would militate against the use of humorous play. Yet experience suggested to me that this setting is actually one where humour and laughter can, and often do, thrive.
The research I undertook as a result of my ruminations about humorous play in the language classroom forms the basis for this book. By its nature, my investigative focus is a narrow one. However, I believe that the findings set out in the course of this volume have implications beyond the limited confines of my research setting. They will be of interest to academics studying and working in the fields of applied linguistics, second language acquisition (SLA) and humour studies who want to learn more about humorous playâs role in individual agency, identity, group dynamics and the building of cultures and communities. The research focus chimes well with a growing realisation of the importance of humour and storytelling as social tools. Furthermore, the content is relevant to classroom practitioners, especially those working in ELT and ESOL, who are eager to find out more about the extent to which accommodating to, encouraging or, indeed, instigating play in the language classroom can benefit a group of learners socially and, indeed, in terms of their language acquisition.
1.2 The Structure of This Book
The book is divided into nine chapters, including this introduction. Below is an outline of the areas covered in the rest of the chapters.
Chapter 2 : The underexplored role of humorous play in the second language classroom
Chapter 2 investigates the second language classroom as a social and cultural entity, the nature of humorous language play and the need to take a longitudinal research perspective when looking at the relationship between language play, the language learner and the second language classroom setting, something which has hitherto not been attempted.
There has been an increasing recognition in recent years that peopleâs cultural identities are not merely defined in terms of tribe or nation and that, in their daily lives and the various stages of those lives, they participate and move between various cultures, such as that of their family, their workplace and their leisure pursuits. This realisation that culture can be small-scale, multidimensional and fluid has helped reframe the ways in which various locales of human activity can be understood. One of these locales is the second language classroom. The chapter argues that, for too long, the language classroom as a cultural entity has largely been ignored, and its members seen merely as acquirers of language rather than as social actors in their own right. Even as this social dimension has belatedly been recognised, its emergent nature remains to be investigated.
The chapter goes on to discuss the nature of humorous language play, something which can be seen paradoxically as an integral part of our everyday behaviour and a break from its norms. It is argued that play is an important feature of the officially driven agenda of nearly all language classrooms, both in play-as-rehearsal where hypothetical scenarios can extend language practice and in the systematic manipulation of forms in language drilling. However, although play in these senses is important for this study, the investigative focus is primarily on behaviour where play and humour come together to form something which is often destabilising, subversive, ambiguous and incongruous. The chapter teases out the differences and commonalities between play and humour, and it establishes a working definition of the term âhumorous language playâ (HLP) as used in the book. The latterâs essentially subversive and âoff-taskâ nature may possibly be one reason why it has previously been overlooked in the classroom setting and viewed as peripheral or even inimical to language acquisition. In fact, as the chapter makes clear, engaging in HLP potentially presents learn...