Studying Aristotle’s “Poetics” — Part 14(B): The Conditions of a Tragedy
As I’ve been interviewing screenwriters, I typically ask what some of their influences are. One book title comes up over and over again…
As I’ve been interviewing screenwriters, I typically ask what some of their influences are. One book title comes up over and over again: Aristotle’s “Poetics.” I confess I’ve never read the entire thing, only bits and pieces. So I thought, why not do a daily series to provide a structure to compel me to go through it. That way we’d all benefit from the process.
For background on Aristotle, you can go here to see an article on him in the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.
To download “Poetics,” you can go here.
Part 14(B): The Conditions of a Tragedy
Let us then determine what are the circumstances which strike us as
terrible or pitiful.
Actions capable of this effect must happen between persons who are
either friends or enemies or indifferent to one another. If an enemy
kills an enemy, there is nothing to excite pity either in the act
or the intention- except so far as the suffering in itself is pitiful.
So again with indifferent persons. But when the tragic incident occurs
between those who are near or dear to one another- if, for example,
a brother kills, or intends to kill, a brother, a son his father,
a mother her son, a son his mother, or any other deed of the kind
is done- these are the situations to be looked for by the poet. He
may not indeed destroy the framework of the received legends- the
fact, for instance, that Clytemnestra was slain by Orestes and Eriphyle
by Alcmaeon- but he ought to show of his own, and skilfully handle
the traditional material. Let us explain more clearly what is meant
by skilful handling.
The action may be done consciously and with knowledge of the persons,
in the manner of the older poets. It is thus too that Euripides makes
Medea slay her children. Or, again, the deed of horror may be done,
but done in ignorance, and the tie of kinship or friendship be discovered
afterwards. The Oedipus of Sophocles is an example. Here, indeed,
the incident is outside the drama proper; but cases occur where it
falls within the action of the play: one may cite the Alcmaeon of
Astydamas, or Telegonus in the Wounded Odysseus. Again, there is a
third case- [to be about to act with knowledge of the persons and
then not to act. The fourth case] is when some one is about to do
an irreparable deed through ignorance, and makes the discovery before
it is done. These are the only possible ways. For the deed must either
be done or not done- and that wittingly or unwittingly. But of all
these ways, to be about to act knowing the persons, and then not to
act, is the worst. It is shocking without being tragic, for no disaster
follows. It is, therefore, never, or very rarely, found in poetry.
One instance, however, is in the Antigone, where Haemon threatens
to kill Creon. The next and better way is that the deed should be
perpetrated. Still better, that it should be perpetrated in ignorance,
and the discovery made afterwards. There is then nothing to shock
us, while the discovery produces a startling effect. The last case
is the best, as when in the Cresphontes Merope is about to slay her
son, but, recognizing who he is, spares his life. So in the Iphigenia,
the sister recognizes the brother just in time. Again in the Helle,
the son recognizes the mother when on the point of giving her up.
This, then, is why a few families only, as has been already observed,
furnish the subjects of tragedy. It was not art, but happy chance,
that led the poets in search of subjects to impress the tragic quality
upon their plots. They are compelled, therefore, to have recourse
to those houses whose history contains moving incidents like these.
Enough has now been said concerning the structure of the incidents,
and the right kind of plot.
Aristotle lays down several conditions related to story as tragedy:
* Actions capable of this effect must happen between persons who are either friends or enemies or indifferent to one another. This speaks to the respective narrative functions of characters involved in the story and sets up for the use of archetypes in terms of story development (Protagonist, Nemesis, Attractor, Mentor, Trickster).
These next four refer to the “skillful handling” of a tragedy:
* The action may be done consciously and with knowledge of the persons.
* …the deed of horror may be done, but done in ignorance.
* …to be about to act with knowledge of the persons and then not to act.
* …when some one is about to do an irreparable deed through ignorance, and makes the discovery before it is done.
This reads like classic Aristotelian logic, reminiscent of his explanation (Part VII) of beginning, middle and end:
A whole is that which has a beginning, a middle, and an end. A beginning is that which does not itself follow anything by causal necessity, but after which something naturally is or comes to be. An end, on the contrary, is that which itself naturally follows some other thing, either by necessity, or as a rule, but has nothing following it. A middle is that which follows something as some other thing follows it.
From a screenwriting perspective, I find myself agreeing with Aristotle’s contention that the best way of handling a story is when a character is about to “do an irreparable deed through ignorance,” then “makes the discovery before it is done.” That elevates both Fear and Pity to the maximum state of intensity. It also seems to follow the old Hollywood dictum about movie endings: “Give the audience what they expect, then give them what they want.” Expect: Character A to unknowingly kill her friend Character B. Want: At the last second, Character A recognizes Character B as her lover and refrains from killing him.
Of course, Shakespeare took this approach and went one step further with the play “Romeo and Juliet” by having one character commit suicide — when Romeo mistakenly thinks Juliet is dead, an unwitting act — then the other commit suicide — when Juliet kills herself knowing that Romeo has actually died. That is some serious tragedy.
One other point: The way Aristotle breaks down the various possible ways of handling a tragic narrative brings to mind something screenwriters face on a daily basis: forks-in-the-road. Do we take this approach or that? Do we try this narrative path or that? We both feel and think our way through such choices, test them out, see if they work. If not, we go back and try another path. What Aristotle points out is often there is an inherent logic to these forks-in-the-road. That logic can derive from the writer exploring various options, however the final choice any character makes must work within the context of their own internal world view, way of being, belief system, etc.
As usual, I look forward to and welcome the thoughts of our wonderful group of Aristotelians, and thank you in advance for your insights into “Poetics.”
A reminder: I am looking at “Poetics” through the lens of screenwriting, what is its relevance to the craft in contemporary times. And I welcome the observations of any Aristotle experts to set me straight as I’m just trying to work my way through this content the best I can.
See you tomorrow for another installment of this series.
For the entire series, go here.