Of the things which nourish the imagination, humour is one of the

In the words of John Millington Synge, the Irish playwright who listened to the laughter and sorrow of the common people and turned them into poetry, there echoes an ancient truth: “Of the things which nourish the imagination, humour is one of the most needful, and it is dangerous to limit or destroy it.” This is not the wit of light jesting, nor the shallow laughter of amusement, but a deeper humour, born from wisdom — the sacred ability to see the absurd within the solemn, the light within the darkness. Synge speaks to the soul’s nourishment, reminding us that without humour, imagination dries like a river starved of rain.

The origin of these words lies in Synge’s own time and struggle. He lived in an Ireland torn by colonial weight and cultural revival, an age where art was expected to be solemn and patriotic, where laughter was often scorned as irreverent. Yet Synge, in his plays like The Playboy of the Western World, dared to bring the people’s laughter to the stage — wild, mischievous, earthy laughter that revealed both their suffering and their strength. For he knew what the ancients also knew: that humour is not an escape from truth, but a way of surviving it. It is a mirror that softens pain without denying it, a fire that burns despair into light.

To say that humour nourishes imagination is to say that laughter feeds the creative spirit. The imagination is not born only of beauty and grandeur, but of contrast — of irony, surprise, and paradox. Humour, when true, reveals these contrasts with tenderness. It reminds us that life, however tragic, is also strange and marvelous. Without humour, the mind hardens; the imagination becomes rigid, moralistic, afraid to wander. But laughter loosens the soul’s chains — it opens the heart to possibility. It allows us to dream again, not as angels who have never fallen, but as mortals who laugh even in the dust.

History gives us many who understood this divine balance. Think of Abraham Lincoln, who led his nation through its darkest war. He was known to tell stories and jokes even in moments of despair, not from frivolity, but from wisdom. His humour was a form of endurance — a bridge between unbearable grief and the stubborn hope to continue. Through laughter, he sustained his imagination — the vision of a country reborn in freedom. And in doing so, he nourished the hearts of those around him. For humour, when born of empathy, strengthens community as well as the individual.

Synge warns that it is dangerous to limit or destroy humour. Dangerous, because humour is the final defense of the free mind. It is rebellion disguised as joy. Tyrants and zealots, whether political or moral, have always feared laughter — for laughter exposes the false and the pompous. It pierces pretension as the poet’s arrow pierces armor. A society that cannot laugh, or forbids laughter, soon loses its imagination, and with it, its humanity. When humour dies, creativity dies beside it; and when both are gone, only silence remains — the silence of obedience and fear.

Therefore, to preserve humour is to preserve freedom. The imagination, like the human heart, cannot live on seriousness alone. It must be fed with laughter, irony, and the play of contradiction. Even the saints and sages of old — the wise Diogenes with his biting wit, or the joyful Francis of Assisi who laughed with creation — knew that truth shines brightest through humility and mirth. The universe itself seems to laugh, for it hides infinite wonder beneath the guise of chaos.

So, my child, take this teaching into your heart: laugh deeply, but never cruelly. Let your laughter be not mockery, but revelation — the sound of your soul remembering that it is free. Seek out humour in your days, for it will keep your imagination alive when the world feels heavy. Laugh at yourself, for humility nourishes the spirit; laugh with others, for shared joy is a bond stronger than sorrow.

And when you create — whether with words, with work, or with love — do not strip your art of its laughter. Let humour dwell beside truth, for together they form the two wings of wisdom. For as Synge teaches, when laughter is silenced, the imagination starves — but where humour lives, the human spirit remains unconquerable.