This chapter argues that irony in language emerges as an exquisite form of social work, through the operations of opposition, expectation violation, and contrast. Among all the different and varied figurative forms, irony may be particularly well suited in helping us form a sense-of-self that aligns with other people’s expectations, connect with other people, and manage our positions in social networks and hierarchies. Verbal irony’s oppositionality can lead to an expression of a violation of expectations on a speaker’s part through various methods (e.g., echo, pretense, allusional pretense, salience, contrast). But irony does more by providing speakers with a way to express their attitudes about different situations (e.g., agreeing or disagreeing with some other person’s attitude). Hearing irony may also help people form attitudes about the ironic speakers (e.g., finding the use of sarcasm as funny, clever, boorish). Thinking of irony as social work highlights the utility of this figure in delicately dealing with a wide range of interpersonal circumstances in everyday life.

This chapter describes the main themes of the volume, including “the scope of irony” (the diverse ways that irony is manifested in human experience), “irony’s impact” (e.g., the complex ways irony affects both personal and social life), “irony in linguistic communication,” “irony, affect, and related figures,” and “irony in expressive, multimodal contexts.” Taking a close look at chapters from different sections of the volume illustrates some of the incredibly diverse ways of studying, and writing, about irony in human life. We urge readers to pay close attention to the examples discussed, methods employed by different scholars, the way their arguments unfold, and their larger aims to address the ways irony and thought are closely intertwined. And we should remain open to being “shaken up” by what is read for the wide world of irony scholarship can disrupt our preconceived notions about the meaning and functions of irony exactly in the ways that irony itself can “piece illusions” about how we see ourselves, each other, and the world around us.

One might wonder why a book about language and meaning intended for adults would open its first chapter with an epigraph of an old nursery rhyme written for children – and a sexist one at that.

At a backyard barbeque at a friend’s home some years ago, a wide array of conversational topics was making the rounds among the twenty or so people present – most of whom were well-acquainted university colleagues, their partners, children and friends The yard, as well as the conversational participants’ behavior, also resulted in an unusual acoustic situation.

The last chapter made an argument that we often don’t appreciate the degree to which the sem/syn/sym component of language is arguably at the service of the social component.

Some years ago while working late at my house in Wisconsin, in the United States, where I lived at the time, I made a phone call to a local sandwich restaurant to order a takeaway meal. The restaurant was small and locally owned – run by a family.

I’ve written relatively little fiction in my life. I did, though, have an idea years ago for a novel set in the near future. Not science fiction exactly, but with a sort of sci-fi theme at its core.