Sarcasm in writing
© 2024-01-04 Luther Tychonievich
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Rhetoric that rarely makes the translation from speech to text unscathed.

When I started communicating in writing I quickly learned that one of the rhetorical devices I used often – brief sarcasm – was almost impossible to convey in text. I could write satire where sarcasm was throughout and convey my meaning. But If I wished to throw in one wry statement in the middle of an otherwise earnest passage, as I often did in speaking, I would often be mistaken for being earnest throughout. This seemed to be true even when the passage as a whole made little sense if the sarcasm was not identified as such. As I developed as a writer I discovered that there were several sarcasm-adjacent rhetorical devices that also failed to move from voice to paper well, such as restating the key parts of a long argument which show the argument is specious. For example, in the meetings of the teaching improvement and evaluation committee I recently had occasion to summarize the lengthy comments of one of our faculty members about his own teaching as The majority of his students get an A in his class so he must be an effective teacher. Those in the room made a wry chuckle, confirming to all that we had understood me to be pointing out the flaw in this instructor’s reasoning, not endorsing it, but even if I were to write out the full transcript that intent wouldn’t become clear in text.

This observation, which I rarely contemplate anymore as it has long since informed my writing habits, recently came to my mind when in a Sunday School class discussion about the Revelation of St John two different class members quoted the following excerpt from the transcript of remarks made by Joseph Smith on 8 April 1843:

The book of Revelations is one of the plainest books God ever caused to be written.

One used this to assert that their reading of a particular passage was correct because it was their definition of plain; the other to express a hope that one day they’d ascend to a level of understanding where the book looked plain to them too. But I thought to myself, that quote sounds like a tongue-in-cheek statement, a bit of sarcasm to lighten the mood. After all, there were only two passages of scripture that Joseph Smith found confusing enough to seek a revelation from God answering his questions about what it means and Revelation is one of them.

So, once my holiday travels were over and I found myself again at leisure to do so, I looked this quote to see if my sarcasm hunch could hold up.

The context for this quote is a somewhat lengthy quoting of Revelation chapters 5 and 6, occasionally interspersed with commentary explaining that a common interpretation of one or another passage can’t be true because of the context of an earlier passage. Even if you accept all of his arguments (I’m not sure I do), it’s far from a plain approach. He then said

The book of Revelations is one of the plainest books God ever caused to be written. The revelations do not give us to understand anything of the past in relation to the kingdom of God. What John saw and speaks of were things which he saw in heaven, those which Daniel saw were on, and pertaining to the earth. I am now going to take exceptions to the present translation of the bible in relation to these matters. […]

In other words, Joseph Smith is demonstrating his belief that Revelation requires complicated multi-step reasoning, appealing to other passages, and understanding nuances of Greek that teams of scholars couldn’t translate correctly into English. It is in the middle of demonstrating this belief that he says the bit about plainness.

If I accept that quote at face value, it might mean that no scripture is less complicated this this; that if we think passages like Matthew 7:11 all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them are clear and self-contained, we are missing the point: every verse needs at least several chapters of interlinked reasoning and an appeal to the original Greek to get at it’s basic point. Or it might mean that Joseph Smith had a very odd definition of plain. Or maybe he was trying to shame those who couldn’t keep up with his mental gymnastics. It’s even possible to read his 1843-04-08 address and come away thinking he means all the stuff John saw doesn’t mean anything; he just had a strange dream caused by eating too many spoiled crabs or something and decided to write it all down for a lark.

Or perhaps that plainest quote was just a sarcastic comment to lighten the mood? Halfway through a lengthy, tiring, convoluted series of reasoning and interpretation people are feeling overwhelmed and he’s losing his audience, so he pauses to say iss’t this just the plainest thing ever? Everyone laughs, mood lightens, and back in he goes for round two.

Now, I don’t know what Joseph Smith meant. I don’t have the ability to give a chuckle when I read that and look at his face and see if he’s smiling too or not. But I find that remembering that it might have been a joke, that I don’t have the context of the original address and that it’s risky to assert intent to small excerpts of it, is valuable in my study of this passage, of other historical documents, and when reading the emails and posts and other textual messages that I receive every day.