Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Humorous Writing through the Ages

I write a humorous mystery series based on the idea that a big city gal is trapped in a small town where a murder happens every month. Hahahaha! See? It’s funny. I’ve also just begun work on a young adult novel with a three-book arc. My desire to write it arose mainly out of the fact that I want a forever snapshot of this period in my kids’ lives (they’re 11 and 8), along with a mash-up of ideas percolated by reading The Magic Treehouse series, Inkheart, and three of the Percy Jackson books with my children.

Without giving too much away, my modern YA novel idea requiresimage me to read and research a lot of 1800s-era novels, starting with HG Wells’ The Time Machine and Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities. We’re all familiar with the plot of Wells’ novella, and I can unconditionally recommend it as a fun, short, and creepy summer read. A Tale of image Two Cities was a reread for me, but I loved it in high school and appreciate it even more now. And in reading these books, I found something amazing: the authors are funny. Dickens in particular is so dryly humorous that he actually makes me giggle while reading about the French Revolution. And in researching Wells and Dickens, I find that they were both progressive, intelligent, politically-active human beings who believed and worked hard for basic and universal human rights.

Maybe this is a newsflash to only me. (If so, thanks for keeping the eye rolling to a dull roar.) Anyhow, my first thought upon discovering this was, “I wonder how many other authors in the canon were politically active and progressive, and what does this say about the mind and personality of a successful writer as a whole?” That was just a passing thought, though. Mostly, I’m happy that that there is an established history of nuanced, funny writing that not only entertains but can change the world.

What other bright and funny classic authors am I missing? I’m image specifically looking for novels written in the 1800s by humanists, and I should warn you that I couldn’t get farther than the second paragraph of The Last of the Mohicans.