Studying Aristotle’s “Poetics” — Part 17: Plot and Episode

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 17: Plot and Episode

In constructing the plot and working it out with the proper diction,
the poet should place the scene, as far as possible, before his eyes.
In this way, seeing everything with the utmost vividness, as if he
were a spectator of the action, he will discover what is in keeping
with it, and be most unlikely to overlook inconsistencies. The need
of such a rule is shown by the fault found in Carcinus. Amphiaraus
was on his way from the temple. This fact escaped the observation
of one who did not see the situation. On the stage, however, the Piece
failed, the audience being offended at the oversight.

Again, the poet should work out his play, to the best of his power,
with appropriate gestures; for those who feel emotion are most convincing
through natural sympathy with the characters they represent; and one
who is agitated storms, one who is angry rages, with the most lifelike
reality. Hence poetry implies either a happy gift of nature or a strain
of madness. In the one case a man can take the mould of any character;
in the other, he is lifted out of his proper self.

As for the story, whether the poet takes it ready made or constructs
it for himself, he should first sketch its general outline, and then
fill in the episodes and amplify in detail. The general plan may be
illustrated by the Iphigenia. A young girl is sacrificed; she disappears
mysteriously from the eyes of those who sacrificed her; she is transported
to another country, where the custom is to offer up an strangers to
the goddess. To this ministry she is appointed. Some time later her
own brother chances to arrive. The fact that the oracle for some reason
ordered him to go there, is outside the general plan of the play.
The purpose, again, of his coming is outside the action proper. However,
he comes, he is seized, and, when on the point of being sacrificed,
reveals who he is. The mode of recognition may be either that of Euripides
or of Polyidus, in whose play he exclaims very naturally: ‘So it was
not my sister only, but I too, who was doomed to be sacrificed’; and
by that remark he is saved.

After this, the names being once given, it remains to fill in the
episodes. We must see that they are relevant to the action. In the
case of Orestes, for example, there is the madness which led to his
capture, and his deliverance by means of the purificatory rite. In
the drama, the episodes are short, but it is these that give extension
to Epic poetry. Thus the story of the Odyssey can be stated briefly.
A certain man is absent from home for many years; he is jealously
watched by Poseidon, and left desolate. Meanwhile his home is in a
wretched plight- suitors are wasting his substance and plotting against
his son. At length, tempest-tost, he himself arrives; he makes certain
persons acquainted with him; he attacks the suitors with his own hand,
and is himself preserved while he destroys them. This is the essence
of the plot; the rest is episode.

This should feel like pretty familiar territory to any writer, perhaps especially screenwriters who work with a narrative form (screenplay) that is so much about story structure. And frankly, it’s a hoot to see Aristotle provide a story synopsis not once, but twice in this chapter, sounding very much like a writer giving an elevator pitch to a producer or studio exec. “So Odysseus, see, he’s stuck, a long way from home, desperate to get back to his beloved wife. But this god Poseidon’s got other plans…”

Moreover, Aristotle suggesting writing process — “he [the writer] should first sketch its general outline, and then
fill in the episodes and amplify in detail” — sounds incredibly like the approach I take in prep-writing, figuring out the story’s major Plotline points, then working out all the subplots and character dynamics accordingly. Or I’d be on safer ground if I said my approach resembles his!

Here again Aristotle emphasizes how the plot needs to flow from within the nature of the story universe, not the writer manipulating events from the outside. As I suggested previously, the best way I have found to accomplish this end is immerse oneself in the story’s characters and allow them to lead us through the emerging narrative.

Finally I am intrigued by the relationship in this part between plot and episode. As far as I can tell, Aristotle’s use of ‘plot’ here refers to the overall narrative, while ‘episode’ refers to the sets of events that transpire within the larger story.

What would be the closest parallel to episode in contemporary screenwriting?

Would it be the plot point, a significant event that twists the plot in a new direction?

Would it be a sequence, a set of scenes, each one with its own beginning, middle and end, each moving seamlessly, one to the other?

I’d be curious to hear what our wonderful band of Aristotelians think on the matter, hopefully providing a clearer definition of ‘episode’ per Aristotle’s usage.

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.

Comment Archive

For the entire series, go here.