And isn’t it ironic… don’t you think?

My dear friend Vita Sackville-West and I were discussing irony at a small get-together, as we held hands and stared into each other’s eyes in a strictly platonic fashion (I think Leonard was in the bathroom.) We were meditating on the common misconceptions about irony, so naturally the timeless work of Alanis Morissette’s “Ironic” entered our conversation. This seemingly innocent comparison exploded into a recognition of irony’s multiple layers of meaning, and a realization that those of us well-versed in irony often arrogantly dismiss the misled ironic attempts of others. The discussion deflated the convivial atmosphere of the party until Vita and I were compelled to conclude. I will try to revisit the topic here and unpack the fickle beast of irony, hopefully conveying ideas much more eloquently than I did over my third glass of wine with Vita.

The main problem lies in situational irony, which is troublesome mostly for the preponderance of poor analogies surrounding its explanation. We cringe when we hear irony misused in the classroom, but in every day life it is tolerated as a synonym for coincidental. For example, a person might say, “It’s raining and I forgot my umbrella… how ironic.” This case is merely an unfortunate happening: not ironic. Now, the very same situation would be ironic if our subject carried an umbrella with her constantly, and on this particular day chanced to leave it at home because she decided to break free from her dependence on the security of said umbrella. The situation would have bred a circumstance opposite of what was planned, at least according to the umbrella-forgetter. Here, we’ve reached the juncture at which irony becomes complicated. If irony is contrary to intention, to whose intention is it contrary? It’s unclear whether the determiner of ironic outcome is the entire public, the woman with the umbrella, or strictly those listening to her. Is irony objective, subjective, or in some murky area in between? I believe it’s the latter, for situational irony cannot be shared without conveying an individual’s perceptions to those ignorantly judging.

With the shortsightedness of audience considered, we can sympathize with Alanis Morissette’s plight. Her audience is the general public, so her challenge in creating irony rests in finding a set of expectations shared by her entire listening population. Unfortunately, Morissette, on the whole, fails in her attempt.

Let’s start our review positively by commending Morissette on the correct usages of irony. The most commonly defended instance of irony in Morisette’s work seems to be the case of Mr. Play-It-Safe. We all remember this poor chap. His fear of flying causes him to wait “his whole damn life to take that flight,” and his first flight crashes, presumably killing or at least severely maiming him. This already rings of irony for the audience, as the rarity of plane crashes is frequently stated evidence for the unfounded fear of flying. So  Mr. Play-It-Safe’s facing of his arguably illogical fear is given it’s ironic counterargument; plane crashes are always possible, and in this case he was right to be cautious. To put the proverbial icing on the cake, as his plane crashes, confirming his fears with horrific inertia, he thinks to himself, “Well, isn’t this nice?” Morisette has chosen an anecdote layered with universally-recognized  irony… don’t you think? Yes, Alanis, we really do think.

Unfortunately, Morissette makes more than a few blunders in situational irony, for example: “rain on your wedding day,” “a black fly in your Chardonnay,” “a traffic jam when you’re already late.” These are simply unpleasant circumstances, as are the majority of Morrissette’s lyrics (the ratio of correct to incorrect situations of irony is 3:8, if the reader must know.) Maybe Morissette finds these situations subjectively ironic; who’s to say? Alanis might explain that, in this situation, she was planning on lying to her boss by saying that her tardiness was due to traffic, and then she found herself in an actual traffic jam. It’s a stretch, to say the least. Let’s not be too hard on Alanis, though; the task of communicating situational irony is a formidable one.

Some have suggested that Morrisette is actually employing verbal irony in “Ironic.” In other words, the meaning behind the chorus, “isn’t it ironic?” actually implies its opposite. I call this theory “the secret genius approach.” This is plausible (she did play God in Dogma, after all.) The viewpoint is weakened, however, by Morissette’s lack of consistency. For the secret genius approach to hold sway, Morissette would have to change the chorus after true situational irony to something like “That’s in perfect accordance with evident intentions.” That’s not quite as catchy, is it?

I suppose, reader, that the point of the discussion here is simply this: if a situation doesn’t make your brain hurt, it’s probably not irony. Furthermore, if you are one of those who brags a complete understanding of irony: try explaining it. I think you’ll find it difficult to do the topic justice, as I have sorrowfully discovered in writing this entry. I can only hope that I’ve left you, reader, with a clear(ish) method of interpreting irony, and a song that will most certainly be stuck in your head for days.

Yours truly,

Ginny Woolf