There is a breed of humourless being who, on being told a really good joke, will solemnly nod and declare: "That is so funny". I was reminded of this type when, in this excellent trawl through Irish stand-p comedy, I read of Pauline McLynn running in despair whenever a dour and humourless television producer would suddenly cry: "Hey, do you know what would be funny here?"
Being funny is purely instinctive - and those who can do it just get out there and do it. Those who can't, but who won't stop trying, present a pathetic picture indeed. And the danger for both groups is in trying to analyse how it all works. However, in Gift Of The Gag, Stephen Dixon and Deirdre Falvey manage to avoid all the dangers. Like the entertainers that they write about, they know their audience, they speak the language, they spread the stories and, in assessing both the material and the background to today's stand-up comics, they provide a book that is not only important and serious but that, in itself, is a barrel of laughs.
Starting out by identifying the four main types of comedy as Absurd, Wit, Parody and Satire, they then link a comic to each. And while we enjoy Jason Byrne's absurdist streak, Dylan Moran's irreverent wit and Paul Wonderful's cutting parodies, it is only when we come to the satire of Dermot Morgan that we feel the talent barometer shooting up a few more degrees.
Many pages are rightly devoted to Morgan and to Father Ted - from the inspired writing and performances in the series back to the roots of this form of comedy. And then, in Morgan's case, we examine his beginnings, his Father Trendy days, his frustrations with RTE, his final success and, in that moment, the untimely death which left us to merely speculate what his biting wit would have made of the Ireland of today.
There is much analysis of well-known and lesser-known stand-ups, but sometimes one wishes for a little more discretion. Occasionally, there are overlaps and sometimes an almost incestuous mood creeps in, with Tommy Tiernan admiring Dylan Moran admiring Kevin McAleer. Also - but perhaps rightly in this book of celebration - there is a chummy, within-the-ranks reluctance to criticise. Indeed, this is well signalled in the Acknowledgements, where almost everybody is wholeheartedly thanked - an ironic echo of Dermot Morgan's brilliant satire of Barry McGuigan in "Thank you very much Mr Eastwood".
Stand-up comedy has its own selective influences, with Dave Allen (although famous for sitting down) an acknowledged role-model. However, early Irish comedy/ revue gets little credit and one yearns for a contribution from the likes of Maureen Potter (surely a stand-up) or an analysis of the ground-breaking revues of the Linehans and Des Keogh.
In fairness, the opportunity to criticise the stand-up is offered to two mainstream outsiders - Noel V. Ginnity and Brendan O'Carroll. Ginnity seizes the moment with relish, but his attack becomes so extreme that it is almost a comedy routine in itself. O'Carroll is more reserved - although he does make the point that he plays to 1,500 in the Gaiety whereas The International Bar, the cradle of stand-up, accommodates about 60.
However, the success of the top-flight stand-up is greater than that. Sean Hughes, Dylan Moran, Kevin McAleer and Graham Norton can fill the big theatres and play to millions on television. They are - like our economy, pop stars, dance shows and writers - now regarded as another indication of our new confidence, another aspect of Cool Hibernia, the new Eurocentric Ireland. And they are very funny. Who could not laugh as Michael Redmond sadly tells us that "there is one thing I've noticed in life and that is how paranoid a person up a ladder gets if a complete stranger starts climbing up after him."
Will it last? Dara O'Briain - one of their own - warns that it could all be just another Celtic Tiger industry, "and once the economy goes we will be seen as Luxury goods of the highest order." But, for now, it is certainly here and this book is not only a serious, timely and informed record of the phenomenon; it is also - like the comics themselves - great fun.
Bernard Farrell is a playwright. His latest play, The Spirit Of Annie Ross, was the Gate Theatre presentation in the Dublin Theatre Festival.