Comic, understood as the genre of comedy, is a relative term. What is comic to one group of people, to one society, to one person, it may not be to another. The effect of the comic is the result of the comparison that we make, without even knowing it, of our own mores with the mores that we see ridiculed, and this effect assumes a difference between the spectator and the character depicted that is advantageous to the former. It is not that a man cannot laugh at himself when he recognizes his own image: this capacity comes from a duplicity of character that is more substantially observable through the conflict of passions, where man is continuously in opposition to himself. Like a third party, one judges oneself, one condemns oneself, one jokes, and self-love benefits therein. See Comedy), is divided into high comedy, bourgeois comedy, and low comedy . Since we only just touched on this division in the article on Comedy, we will develop it here. It is from a profound knowledge of their subject matter that the arts take their rules and the authors, their inspiration.

High comedy depicts the mores of great men, and these differ from the mores of the common people and of the bourgeoisie less in substance than in form. The vices of great men are less coarse, their absurdities less shocking; they are even, for the most part, so well disguised by politeness that they appear to be men of amiable character: the spectator breaks down perfumed poisons; but few people are in a position to study them and even fewer in a position to understand them. We amuse ourselves with copying the dandy on whom all ridiculous traits are exhausted, and the portrait of whom is but a school for young men with some vague disposition to become one; we will, however, leave aside the scheming woman , the proud low-life , the self-flatterer , and an infinity of others who populate the world: it is true that it takes as much courage as talent to approximate these characters; and the authors of false sincerity and glory have had need of both: but it is also not without effort that we can follow in the footsteps of the intrepid author of Tartuffe . [2] Boileau recounted that after Molière had read the Misanthrope to him, he said to him: you will see something quite different. What else would he have accomplished had death not surprised him, this man who saw something beyond the Misanthrope ? [3] The problem that confused Boileau should be an object of continual emulation and study for comic authors; and were this play but a Philosopher’s Stone for them, they would, in their futile search for it, at least make a thousand other useful discoveries along the way.

Aside from the careful study of the mores of the elevated world, without which we would not be able to make a single step in the trajectory of high comedy , this genre presents a unique obstacle of which an author is initially afraid. Most of the absurdities of great men are so well packaged as to be only barely visible. Above all, their vices have some indefinably imposing quality that does not lend itself to pleasantry: but situations put these vices into action. What can be more serious in itself than the Misanthrope? Molière depicts him in love with a coquette; he is comic . The masterpiece Tartuffe astounds even more with its art of contrast: within this thoroughly comic intrigue, none of the main characters are comic when taken separately; they each become so through contrast with one another. In general, the characters develop only through their interactions.

Misplaced pretentions and false airs constitute the main subject matter of bourgeois comedy . The progress of politeness and luxury have caused it to approach high comedy , but not to the point of confusing the two. Vanity, which formerly took a more elevated tone in the bourgeoisie, treats everything that does not have an elevated air in a crude fashion. This is another layer of the ridiculous that should not prevent the author from depicting the bourgeois with bourgeois mores. He should put in the ranks of farces Georges Dandin , Le Malade imaginaire , Les Fourberies de Scapin , and Le Bourgeois gentilhomme, and he should attempt to imitate them. [4] Farce is insipid exaggeration, or the crude exaggeration of a nature unworthy of being presented to the eyes of honest people. The choice of subject and the truth of the representation are what characterize good comedy. Le Malade imaginaire , to which doctors owe more than they think, is a tableau as striking and as moral as has ever been presented onstage. Georges Dandin , in which the most licentious mores are painted with such wisdom, is a masterpiece of nature and of plot; and it is not Molière’s fault if foolish pride is stronger than his teachings and perpetuates the alliance of the Dandins with the Sotenvilles . If in these models we find some characteristics that can amuse only common people, by the same token how many scenes in these works are worthy of the most discerning connoisseurs?

Boileau was wrong, if he did not recognize the author of the Misanthrope in Scapin’s eloquence with his master’s father; in the avarice of this old man; in the scene between the two fathers; in the love of the two sons, tableaux worthy of Terence; in Scapin ’s confession when he believes himself convinced; in his insolence when he feels that his master needs him, etc. Boileau was right, if he considered that the bag enveloping the old man was unworthy of Molière: he also would have done better to critique his friend while he was still living, rather than wait for him to die before reproaching him.

Pourceaugnac is the only play by Molière that we can categorize as a farce; [5] and in this farce we find characters like Sbrigani , and situations like that of Pourceaugnac between the two doctors, that let the great master down.

Low comedy , so called because it imitates the mores of common people, can have, like Flemish paintings, the merits of color, truth, and gaiety. It also has its delicacy and its graces; and one must not confuse it with coarse comedy : this last consists in its manner ; it is not an independent genre, but rather a defect of all genres. The loves of a bourgeois woman and the drunkenness of a marquis could be coarse comedy , as is everything that damages good taste and mores. Low comedy , in contrast, is susceptible to delicacy and honesty; it even gives new strength to bourgeois comedy and high comedy when contrasted with them. Molière provides a thousand examples. See , in Le Dépit amoureux , the quarrel and reconciliation between Mathurine and Gros-René , in which village simplicity conveys the same emotions of anger and returns to tenderness that are exchanged in the scene between the two lovers. [6] Molière, it is true, sometimes mixes coarse comedy with low comedy . The scene that we have cited, here are your fifty pins from Paris , [7] is low comedy . I’d also like to give you back your soup , [8] is coarse comedy . The broken straw is a stroke of genius.  [9] These sorts of scenes are like mirrors in which nature, elsewhere painted with the hues of art, is imitated in all its simplicity. Will the secret of these mirrors be lost after Molière? He brought out even stronger contrasts through the mixture of comic genres. It is in this way that in Le Festin de Pierre , he paints for us the credulity of two village girls and their willingness to allow themselves to be seduced by a rogue whose magnificence dazzles them. [10] It is in this way that in Le Bourgeois gentilhomme , the coarseness of Nicole ridicules anew the impertinent pretentions and the forced education of M. Jourdain. It is in this way that in L’École des femmes , Alain and Georgette’s stupidity, so well nuanced with Agnès’s innocence, contributes to the successful enterprises of the lover and makes the jealous men’s precautions fail. [11]

Please forgive us from taking all our examples from Molière; if Menander and Terence came back to life, they would study this great master and would study only him.

1. According to tradition, these words were spoken by a member of the audience at the play’s premiere in 1659. However, the story is likely apocryphal. Marmontel’s article misquotes the exclamation (“voilà la bonne comédie!”) and renders instead: “voilà le bon comique.” For an English translation see Les précieuses ridicules (The Affected Misses), trans. Curtis Hidden Page (New York and London, 1912).

2. There are many translations of Molière’s Tartuffe , first performed in 1664, including this one: Tartuffe; or, the Hypocrite, trans. Curtis Hidden Page (New York and London, 1908).

3. Molière’s Le Misanthrope was first performed in Paris in 1666. For a translation, see The Misanthrope, trans. Curtis Hidden Page (New York and London, 1913).

4. These are all plays by Molière. For English translations see: George Dandin (vol. 2), The Imaginary Invalid (vol. 3) The Bourgeois Gentleman (vol. 1), all trans. Katharine Prescott Wormeley (Boston, 1895-1909); The Rogueries of Scapin (vol. 6), trans. Henri Van Laun (Edinburgh, 1876).

5. Molière, Monsieur de Pourceaugnac, trans. Henri Van Laun (Edinburgh, 1876), vol. 5.

6. This play has been translated by Van Laun as The Love-Tiff (vol. 1). Marmontel here mistakenly cites Mathurine (one of the peasant girls in Don Juan ), when he means Marinette.

7. Citation from the scene mentioned (Act IV, scene 4), spoken by Marinette.

8. Marmontel misquotes this line (from the same scene, Act IV, scene 4) as “Je voudrois bien aussi te rendre ton potage.” Gros-René’s line is actually “Je voudrois pouvoir rejeter le potage [que tu me fis manger], (I would like to be able to reject the soup [that you made me eat].

9. Le Dépit amoureux Act IV, scene 4, spoken by Gros-René.

10. The full title is Dom Juan ou le Festin de pierre , translated by Van Laun as Don Juan; or, the Feast with the Statue (vol. 3).

11. This play has been translated by Van Laun as The School for Wives (vol. 2).