Humour has been part of storytelling for as long as people have been telling stories. Ancient writers used comedy to puncture pomposity, while medieval satirists sharpened their pens on the powerful. In English literature, Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels (1726) proved that a ridiculous adventure could carry biting political commentary, and Charles Dickens later filled his novels with grotesques who made readers laugh even as they shone a light on social injustices.
The 20th century saw the comic novel truly take flight. Joseph Heller’s Catch-22 turned the absurdity of war into unforgettable satire, while P.G. Wodehouse perfected farce with Bertie Wooster and Jeeves. Satire became a tool to reveal truth through exaggeration, to make us laugh while quietly wincing at the realities being lampooned.
What’s striking is how varied comic fiction has become since. Carl Hiaasen’s Florida-based capers gleefully combine crime, chaos and environmental themes, creating plots as outlandish as the state itself. Roddy Doyle, with his Dublin wit, captures the hilarity of everyday conversation, while John Mortimer’s Rumpole of the Bailey introduced a blustering barrister who used humour to cut through legal pomposity.
From Northern Ireland came Colin Bateman’s Murphy’s Law, proving that dark crime and sharp comedy could live side by side. At the other end of the spectrum, Alexander McCall Smith has made a career out of gentle humour in The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency and My Italian Bulldozer, where whimsy and charm take centre stage. Marina Lewycka’s A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian reminded readers that family squabbles, migration, and memory can be the stuff of both tears and laughter.
Together, these writers show the breadth of satirical fiction: sometimes biting, sometimes tender, often outrageous, and always personal. Humour, after all, is slippery. What sends one reader into fits of laughter may leave another unmoved.
In my own small way, I’ve tried to add to this tradition. My Windy Mountain series takes a comic look at eccentric characters in small-town Tasmania. Funny Capers DownUnder sends a diminutive lawyer and part-time magician stumbling into absurd escapades. And my standalone, Major BS Comes to the End of His Rope, pokes fun at self-importance with as much mischief as I could muster. If there’s one thing these more accomplished writers have taught me, it’s that laughter, in all its forms, will never go out of fashion.
Something else made you laugh? Feel free to tell me about your favourite reads.
JOHN MARTIN 