Rumormongers have hyp­o­crit­i­cally insin­u­ated that I make use of cheap irony. Nothing could be fur­ther from the truth.

I employ only the finest qual­ity of irony, pro­cured at great expense, its like not to be had dis­counted. In fact, I do not entrust sup­ply to out­side pro­vi­sion­ers, but par­tic­i­pate at every stage of man­u­fac­ture, from the selec­tion of raw mate­r­ial (unal­loyed, never scrap) through its refine­ment — forged under sub­lime pres­sure, even tem­pered, under con­trolled heat, by a process of my own inven­tion. Despite all due pre­cau­tion, irony can become cor­rupted, so the results of all this effort may well never see the light of day. Only the most resilient irony, with­out dis­cern­able imper­fec­tion, is suit­able to any proper craft.

Nor do I use it spar­ingly. To be effec­tive, irony must be thickly applied, prefer­ably in many lay­ers, and metic­u­lously worked in to its foun­da­tion so as to become inte­gral to the final prod­uct. Those who speak of cor­ro­sive irony are really attest­ing to defi­cien­cies of mate­r­ial or work­man­ship. It’s often for­got­ten that the first func­tion of irony is lit­er­ally to pro­tect the under­ly­ing mat­ter. This has been obscured by the suc­cess of irony as a dec­o­ra­tive element.

The impor­tance of pre­sen­ta­tion must not be denied. Raw irony is unat­trac­tive — dull and base, it sends the wrong mes­sage. This should not be con­fused with the pure, sim­ple affect achieved by the so-​​called Socratic method, made to seem rudi­men­tary through its min­i­mal, flat fin­ish. Irony can also be pol­ished to a high gloss, though usu­ally aug­mented by a thin adher­ent coat­ing to main­tain its sur­face integrity.

For more ornate treat­ments, the devil is in the details: to assume a pleas­ing shape, the sub­stance must be respected, even as it is moulded, but irony is no less ver­sa­tile for all that. Whether chis­eled to a fine edge or oth­er­wise carved, or etched with acid, it read­ily accepts a vari­ety of designs. But the key to supe­rior irony is tex­ture. Smooth, stip­pled, saw­toothed, or scored, it is essen­tial to com­pen­sate for the incon­stant den­si­ties of the mate­r­ial, lest the result leave a mot­ley or clouded appear­ance. Superficial asper­ity can be enhanced with a dry wash, or light var­nish — heav­ier treat­ments tend to mask the desired impression.

The dis­play set­ting should be cho­sen to show the fin­ished prod­uct to its best advan­tage. Shifts in per­spec­tive and light­ing angles can pro­duce dra­matic effects in the dénoue­ment. Understatement may have its virtues, but flirts with the pos­si­bil­ity that finer aspects of the irony will be over­shad­owed. Hidden irony may elicit a shock of recog­ni­tion, but this is tran­sient, and bet­ter saved for those times that occa­sion truly demands.

Whatever the cur­rent fash­ion may be, mock irony is to be assid­u­ously avoided as a breach of taste. Its defects become appar­ent even under cur­sory exam­i­na­tion, to say noth­ing of the scep­ti­cal eye of the con­nois­seur. It deceives no one.

I trust that this demon­strates my approach to irony is not to be gain­said. I take irony very seri­ously indeed. And when I say that, I mean it.

 

–by David Haan

 

Copyleft 2008, by David Haan and Spinozablue. Used by Permission.