the necessary price of such justice.nIn practice, though, it is difficult tonknow what effects the implementationnof his proposals would have. As Feeleynnoted, the system has a way of creativelynreverting to old habits, and while Morris’snproposals (which he urges on the legislaturesnrather than the courts) wouldnmake the process logically consistent,nhow dififerentiy the public and the convictednwould actually fare is unknown.nProbably the most controversial sectionnof Morris’s book is his final chapternon punishment Punishment being costly,nDriven to TearsnAlbert Bennel: Farce; Simon andnSchuster; New York.nby Carson DalynH umor, of course, is a ftinny thing.nThese days, however, it seems to be gettingnfunnier and ftirmier—or as Alice innWonderland says, “curiouser and curioouser.”nUnfortunately, this means thatnwe are treated to a lot more funnypeculiarnthan funny-ha-ha humor. Moreover,nmuch so-called humor is not fimnynat all, but rather strange, grim, and grotesque—likenthe “Mommy-mommy”njokes of elementary-school feme. In recentnyears, it seems as if the vast spectrumnof humor has narrowed so that itnincludes mainly two extremes. One isnthe cynical, rapier-witted epigrams ofnthe world-weary who live east of thenHudson and west of the Adantic. Thenother is the lowbrow slj^stick popularnwith those who derive intellecmal inspirationnfrom the Dukes o/Hazzard, paynto watch reruns of The Three Stooges,nstill mourn the cancellation of The GongnShow (for which they find The People’snCourt a poor substitute), and admire thendestructive rock chic of bird-dec^itatorsnlike Ozzy Osboume.nProfessor Daly is with the English departmentnat the University of Notre Dame.nSS^HMl^MHHHnChronicles of Culturenhe suggests that as a deterrent it hasnmaximum effect when it is used sparingly.nSo long as the process remains equalnfor all, and so long as the punishment isnnot out of proportion to the crime, hensees no problem with unequal treatmentnfor the similarly culpable.nMadness and the Criminal Law, withnits philosophy, law, sociology, psychology,nand fiction, is both an intellectualntreatise and a tease. Legal scholars respectnNorval Morris the lawyer, professor, andnwriter; they should urge him to pursuenhis talents as a novelist. DnAlthough the sated liberal epigrammatistsncan be, and often are, unpleasant,nthey provide no competition in sheernobnoxiousness for the providers of materialnfor the second-mentioned groupnwho, it would seem, are in the processnof inheriting at least much of the media,nif not all of the earth. The hour oiMadnMagazine 3nd Animal House has comenat last, despite the brave efforts of MissnManners and others still armed withnscruples, taste, morals, and hat pins, tonstave them off.nIn keeping with the modem democraticntendency to confer academic respectabilitynon virtually any subject byndevoting a thorough book to it, we shouldnnot be surprised to see appear on thenhorizon a nearly 500-page tome devotednto “a cumulative biography of farce.” Mr.nAlbert Bermel, the author of this work,nknows and loves his material; it is notneveryone who could chronicle hysterianand high jinks from Aristophanes to AnimalnHouse without flinching. There arenstill fewer who could appreciate twonand more millennia of flying custard pies,ntalking animals, and animated machinesntormenting mankind: “This book celebratesnthe danger, destruction, and tormentnofferee, an ancient form of merrymaking.nShort and long farces date backnto men’s and women’s first attempts tonscoff in public at whatever their neigh­nnnbors cherished in private.” It takes a mannof high good humor and considerablenendurance to find the same old tricks,nlines, and settings not mildly amusingnbut hysterically ftinny time after time inncentury after century in country afterncountry.nIt may also take, as Mr. Bermel su^estsnhimself, a case of arrested developmentnand a certain lack of discrimination:n”ferce is by its nature popular; it makes angut appeal to the entire spectrum of thenpublic, from illiterate to intellectuals.”nThis, however, does not alarm Mr. Bermel,nwho glories in the very perversity andncommonness offeree. He proclaims withndelight: “Being a destroyer and detractor,nfarce is a negating force Farce floutsnthe bounds of reason, good taste, fafrness,nand what we commonly caU sanity,”nand he waxes rhapsodic when he announces:n”Farce deals with the unreal,nwith the worst one can dream or dread.nFarce is cruel, often brutal, even murderous.”nTo do Mr. Bermel credit, henwrites glibly and often with a certainntongue-in-cheek charm of the cruel, thenbrutal, and murderous, as well as aboutnthe crueUy brutal, brutally cruel, murderouslynbrutal, and cruelly murderous.nAside from being quite off base on medievalndrama when he claims that “Religiousnworship and theater have alwaysnbeen intertwined competitors” (emphasisnadded), he does a reasonably good job.nThe problem however, lies in the existentialnvalue of fercical competence. Whatnare we to make of a man who writes enchantedlynof “a bed-bug recaptured by anposse of crawling scientists,” or who pens:n”In such company an animated toothbrush,ncigar, and Pernod can feel at ease”?nFor Mr. Bermel, it seems that the glorynof farce is that it requires no existentialnvalue or transcendental context and actuallynmilitates against them. For himnthe absurdity is enough. He relishes then”humor” of Little Murders in whichn”Patsy and her boyfliend will be marriednby a hippie priest who’s been instructednnot to mention God.” He heartily enjoysnsuch staples offeree as “the man in drag”:n”Chances are that at some point in then