Self-Invention and Persona: How Women Comedians Built Their Masks

The Thematic Claim: Persona as Shield and Scepter

In In On the Joke, Shawn Levy argues that the pioneering women comedians of the mid-20th century did not simply tell jokes—they invented themselves. Each entered a field that offered no roadmaps, no role models, and plenty of resistance. Their solution was to create a distinctive stage persona: a protective mask that shielded them from vulnerability while forging a direct connection with audiences. This analysis traces that act of self-invention across three careers—Jackie “Moms” Mabley, Phyllis Diller, and Joan Rivers—and examines the symbolic props that made those personae unforgettable.

Moms Mabley: The Grandmother as Trojan Horse

Jackie Mabley endured a childhood of trauma—her father’s death, sexual assault, and a flight into minstrelsy. By 1941 she had transformed herself into “Moms,” a wise, salty grandmother who could say anything. The persona was a brilliant disguise: under the cover of a harmless old lady, Moms addressed race and sex with a frankness that would have been impossible for a younger Black woman.

The Moms persona allowed her to critique white society while audiences laughed, thinking she was just telling jokes. It also gave her authority—she was everyone’s mother, dispensing truth wrapped in humor. Levy notes that her groundbreaking comedy albums of the 1960s tackled topics other comics avoided. The mask was both shield and scepter: it protected her from the harshest backlash and gave her a platform.

Phyllis Diller: The Mad Housewife and Fang

Phyllis Diller created a persona that exaggerated her own life as a suburban mother of five. She dubbed her husband Sherwood “Fang Face,” and turned her domestic incompetence into a running gag: “Housework won’t kill you, but why take a chance?” The Fang symbol—a single protruding tooth—became shorthand for her entire act.

Diller’s persona was a conscious construct. After discovering Claude Bristol’s The Magic of Believing, she decided to “think big” and build a character that audiences would remember. Her wild hair, cackling laugh, and garish dresses were all part of the mask. Unlike Mabley, Diller’s persona was not a disguise but an exaggeration of the self—a way to make her ordinary life extraordinary. By making herself the butt of the joke, she neutralized the threat of a funny woman. Audiences could laugh at her without feeling challenged.

Joan Rivers: “Rita” and the Pursuit of Connection

Joan Rivers spent years struggling to find her voice. She wrote a film, endured rejections, and performed at Second City before finally creating an alter ego she called “Rita.” As Levy describes, “Rita” was “the loser girl who cannot get married…my stand-up comedy persona…the secret of my success.” Rivers dressed in a black cocktail dress and blonde wig, embodying a Jewish Seven Sisters alumna—conventional on the outside, anything but on the inside.

Rita allowed Rivers to speak about insecurity, failure, and desire in a way that felt universal. “She works because people recognize insecurity and respond to it,” Rivers explained. The persona was a mask that turned her anxieties into comedy. But it was also a tool: by performing a character, Rivers could take risks that “Joan Rivers” might not dare. The mask gave her permission to be savage, self-deprecating, and ultimately triumphant.

Complexity and Contradiction: The Limits of the Mask

Not every woman in On the Joke relied on a fictional persona. Jean Carroll performed as herself—a well-dressed, witty monologist. Yet she faced the same gender discrimination, lower pay, and patronizing treatment as her masked peers. This suggests that a persona was not a guaranteed escape from sexism. It was a strategy, subject to its own limitations.

Moreover, masks could become traps. Joan Rivers’s “Rita” persona initially kept her from being taken seriously as a writer or actress. Phyllis Diller sometimes worried that audiences would not see the real woman behind the cackle. Lily Tomlin, quoted in the book, recalled growing up in an era when “women didn’t really do comedy. You had to be homely, an old maid, all that.” The mask, then, was a response to a limited set of options—a creative solution born of necessity.

Legacy: Personae as Foundation

The personae that Moms, Diller, and Rivers built did more than launch their own careers. They created templates for every woman who followed. As Levy writes in the conclusion, “If a woman comedian wants to work inside the persona of a character, the model was laid out for her.” The grinders switch of Minnie Pearl and the knockers-up catchphrase of Rusty Warren joined Mabley’s grandmother and Diller’s fang as symbols of self-invention. These masks allowed audiences to see women as funny on their own terms—and they cracked the glass ceiling that would be shattered by later generations.

Study Questions and Answers

1. How did Moms Mabley’s grandmother persona allow her to address controversial topics?
   The persona acted as a Trojan horse: under the guise of a harmless elder, Mabley could discuss race, sex, and social injustice without triggering immediate rejection. Audiences accepted the truth because it came from “Moms.”

2. In what ways did Phyllis Diller’s exaggerated housewife persona both challenge and reinforce gender stereotypes?
   It challenged stereotypes by putting a woman in control of the comedy—she was the one telling jokes about her husband and home. But it also reinforced the idea that women’s humor should be about domestic failure, a limitation that Diller herself acknowledged.

3. Why did Joan Rivers create the alter ego “Rita,” and how did it evolve?
   Rivers created “Rita” to channel her own insecurity and to give audiences a relatable figure. The persona allowed her to joke about her failures without revealing too much of her real self. Over time, “Rita” merged with Rivers’s public identity, especially after her Tonight Show breakthrough.

4. How does the approach of Jean Carroll, who performed without a persona, compare to the others?
   Carroll proved that a woman could succeed as a straight stand-up monologist, but she still faced the same industry barriers. Her experience shows that a persona could be a helpful tool but was not a requirement—nor a guarantee of equal treatment.

5. What does the persistence of persona-based comedy among these pioneers suggest about the ongoing challenges for women in comedy?
   The need for a protective mask indicates that audiences and industry gatekeepers have historically required women to be “something other” than themselves to be funny. Even as the masks evolve, the underlying bias continues, as Levy’s conclusion about unequal pay and representation makes clear.