that it is generally comic in proportion to the
clearness, as well as the subtleness, with which it enables us to see a
man as a jointed puppet. The suggestion must be a clear one, for inside
the person we must distinctly perceive, as though through a glass, a
set-up mechanism. But the suggestion must also be a subtle one, for the
general appearance of the person, whose every limb has been made rigid
as a machine, must continue to give us the impression of a living
being. The more exactly these two images, that of a person and that of
a machine, fit into each other, the more striking is the comic effect,
and the more consummate the art of the draughtsman. The originality of
a comic artist is thus expressed in the special kind of life he imparts
to a mere puppet.

We will, however, leave on one side the immediate application of the
principle, and at this point insist only on the more remote
consequences. The illusion of a machine working in the inside of the
person is a thing that only crops up amid a host of amusing effects;
but for the most part it is a fleeting glimpse, that is immediately
lost in the laughter it provokes. To render it permanent, analysis and
reflection must be called into play.

In a public speaker, for instance, we find that gesture vies with
speech. Jealous of the latter, gesture closely dogs the speaker's
thought, demanding also to act as interpreter. Well and good; but then
it must pledge itself to follow thought through all the phases of its
development. An idea is something that grows, buds, blossoms and ripens
from the beginning to the end of a speech. It never halts, never
repeats itself. It must be changing every moment, for to cease to
change would be to cease to live. Then let gesture display a like
animation! Let it accept the fundamental law of life, which is the
complete negation of repetition! But I find that a certain movement of
head or arm, a movement always the same, seems to return at regular
intervals. If I notice it and it succeeds in diverting my attention, if
I wait for it to occur and it occurs when I expect it, then
involuntarily I laugh. Why? Because I now have before me a machine that
works automatically. This is no longer life, it is automatism
established in life and imitating it. It belongs to the comic.

This is also the reason why gestures, at which we never dreamt of
laughing, become laughable when imitated by another individual. The
most elaborate explanations h