The Poetics of Aristotle
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.
XVIII
Every tragedy falls into two parts,--Complication and Unravelling or
Denouement. Incidents extraneous to the action are frequently combined
with a portion of the action proper, to form the Complication; the rest
is the Unravelling. By the Complication I mean all that extends from
the beginning of the action to the part which marks the turning-point
to good or bad fortune. The Unravelling is that which extends from the
beginning of the change to the end. Thus, in the Lynceus of Theodectes,
the Complication consists of the incidents presupposed in the drama, the
seizure of the child, and then again, The Unravelling extends from
the accusation of murder to the end.
There are four kinds of Tragedy, the Complex, depending entirely on
Reversal of the Situation and Recognition; the Pathetic (where the
motive is passion),--such as the tragedies on Ajax and Ixion; the
Ethical (where the motives are ethical),--such as the Phthiotides and
the Peleus. The fourth kind is the Simple <We here exclude the purely
spectacular element>, exemplified by the Phorcides, the Prometheus, and
scenes laid in Hades. The poet should endeavour, if possible, to combine
all poetic elements; or failing that, the greatest number and those the
most important; the more so, in face of the cavilling criticism of the
day. For whereas there have hitherto been good poets, each in his own
branch, the critics now expect one man to surpass all others in their
several lines of excellence.
In speaking of a tragedy as the same or different, the best test to take
is the plot. Identity exists where the Complication and Unravelling are
the same. Many poets tie the knot well, but unravel it ill. Both arts,
however, should always be mastered.
Again, the poet should remember what has been often said, and not make
an Epic structure into a Tragedy--by an Epic structure I mean one with
a multiplicity of plots--as if, for instance, you were to make a tragedy
out of the entire story of the Iliad. In the Epic poem, owing to its
length, each part assumes its proper magnitude. In the drama the result
is far from answering to the poet's expectation. The proof is that the
poets who have dramatised the whole story of the Fall of Troy, instead
of selecting portions, like Euripides; or who have taken the whole
tale of Niobe, and not a part of her story, like Aeschylus, either fail
utterly or meet with poor success on the stage. Even Agathon has been
known to fail from this one defect. In his Reversals of the Situation,
however, he shows a marvellous skill in the effort to hit the popular
taste,--to produce a tragic effect that satisfies the moral sense. This
effect is produced when the clever rogue, like Sisyphus, is outwitted,
or the brave villain defeated. Such an event is probable in Agathon's
sense of the word: 'it is probable,' he says, 'that many things should
happen contrary to probability.'
The Chorus too should be regarded as one of the actors; it should be an
integral part of the whole, and share in the action, in the manner not
of Euripides but of Sophocles. As for the later poets, their choral
songs pertain as little to the subject of the piece as to that of any
other tragedy. They are, therefore, sung as mere interludes, a practice
first begun by Agathon. Yet what difference is there between introducing
such choral interludes, and transferring a speech, or even a whole act,
from one play to another?
XIX
It remains to speak of Diction and Thought, the other parts of Tragedy
having been already discussed. Concerning Thought, we may assume what
is said in the Rhetoric, to which inquiry the subject more strictly
belongs. Under Thought is included every effect which has to be produced
by speech, the subdivisions being,--proof and refutation; the excitation
of the feelings, such as pity, fear, anger, and the like; the suggestion
of importance or its opposite. Now, it is evident that the dramatic
incidents must be treated from the same points of view as the dramatic
speeches, when the object is to evoke the sense of pity, fear,
importance, or probability. The only difference is, that the incidents
should speak for themselves without verbal exposition; while the effects
aimed at in speech should be produced by the speaker, and as a result of
the speech. For what were the business of a speaker, if the Thought were
revealed quite apart from what he says?
Next, as regards Diction. One branch of the inquiry treats of the Modes
of Utterance. But this province of knowledge belongs to the art
of Delivery and to the masters of that science. It includes, for
instance,--what is a command, a prayer, a statement, a threat, a
question, an answer, and so forth. To know or not to know these things
involves no serious censure upon the poet's art. For who can admit
the fault imputed to Homer by Protagoras,--that in the words, 'Sing,
goddess, of the wrath,' he gives a command under the idea that he utters
a prayer? For to tell some one to do a thing or not to do it is, he
says, a command. We may, therefore, pass this over as an inquiry that
belongs to another art, not to poetry.
XX
[Language in general includes the following parts:--Letter, Syllable,
Connecting word, Noun, Verb, Inflexion or Case, Sentence or Phrase.
A Letter is an indivisible sound, yet not every such sound, but only
one which can form part of a group of sounds. For even brutes utter
indivisible sounds, none of which I call a letter. The sound I mean
may be either a vowel, a semi-vowel, or a mute. A vowel is that which
without impact of tongue or lip has an audible sound. A semi-vowel, that
which with such impact has an audible sound, as S and R. A mute, that
which with such impact has by itself no sound, but joined to a vowel
sound becomes audible, as G and D. These are distinguished according
to the form assumed by the mouth and the place where they are produced;
according as they are aspirated or smooth, long or short; as they are
acute, grave, or of an intermediate tone; which inquiry belongs in
detail to the writers on metre.
A Syllable is a non-significant sound, composed of a mute and a
vowel: for GR without A is a syllable, as also with A,--GRA. But the
investigation of these differences belongs also to metrical science.
A Connecting word is a non-significant sound, which neither causes nor
hinders the union of many sounds into one significant sound; it may
be placed at either end or in the middle of a sentence. Or, a
non-significant sound, which out of several sounds, each of them
significant, is capable of forming one significant sound,--as {alpha mu
theta iota}, {pi epsilon rho iota}, and the like. Or, a non-significant
sound, which marks the beginning, end, or division of a sentence; such,
however, that it cannot correctly stand by itself at the beginning of a
sentence, as {mu epsilon nu}, {eta tau omicron iota}, {delta epsilon}.
A Noun is a composite significant sound, not marking time, of which no
part is in itself significant: for in double or compound words we do not
employ the separate parts as if each were in itself significant. Thus
in Theodorus, 'god-given,' the {delta omega rho omicron nu} or 'gift' is
not in itself significant.
A Verb is a composite significant sound, marking time, in which, as in
the noun, no part is in itself significant. For 'man,' or 'white' does
not express the idea of 'when'; but 'he walks,' or 'he has walked' does
connote time, present or past.
Inflexion belongs both to the noun and verb, and expresses either the
relation 'of,' 'to,' or the like; or that of number, whether one or
many, as 'man' or 'men '; or the modes or tones in actual delivery, e.g.
a question or a command. 'Did he go?' and 'go' are verbal inflexions of
this kind.
A Sentence or Phrase is a composite significant sound, some at least of
whose parts are in themselves significant; for not every such group
of words consists of verbs and nouns--'the definition of man,' for
example--but it may dispense even with the verb. Still it will always
have some significant part, as 'in walking,' or 'Cleon son of Cleon.' A
sentence or phrase may form a unity in two ways,--either as signifying
one thing, or as consisting of several parts linked together. Thus the
Iliad is one by the linking together of parts, the definition of man by
the unity of the thing signified.]
XXI
Words are of two kinds, simple and double. By simple I mean those
composed of non-significant elements, such as {gamma eta}. By double
or compound, those composed either of a significant and non-significant
element (though within the whole word no element is significant), or
of elements that are both significant. A word may likewise be triple,
quadruple, or multiple in form, like so many Massilian expressions, e.g.
'Hermo-caico-xanthus who prayed to Father Zeus>.'
Every word is either current, or strange, or metaphorical, or
ornamental, or newly-coined, or lengthened, or contracted, or altered.
By a current or proper word I mean one which is in general use among
a people; by a strange word, one which is in use in another country.
Plainly, therefore, the same word may be at once strange and current,
but not in relation to the same people. The word {sigma iota gamma
upsilon nu omicron nu}, 'lance,' is to the Cyprians a current term but
to us a strange one.
Metaphor is the application of an alien name by transference either from
genus to species, or from species to genus, or from species to species,
or by analogy, that is, proportion. Thus from genus to species, as:
'There lies my ship'; for lying at anchor is a species of lying. From
species to genus, as: 'Verily ten thousand noble deeds hath Odysseus
wrought'; for ten thousand is a species of large number, and is here
used for a large number generally. From species to species, as: 'With
blade of bronze drew away the life,' and 'Cleft the water with the
vessel of unyielding bronze.' Here {alpha rho upsilon rho alpha iota},
'to draw away,' is used for {tau alpha mu epsilon iota nu}, 'to cleave,'
and {tau alpha mu epsilon iota nu} again for {alpha rho upsilon alpha
iota},--each being a species of taking away. Analogy or proportion is
when the second term is to the first as the fourth to the third. We
may then use the fourth for the second, or the second for the fourth.
Sometimes too we qualify the metaphor by adding the term to which the
proper word is relative. Thus the cup is to Dionysus as the shield to
Ares. The cup may, therefore, be called 'the shield of Dionysus,' and
the shield 'the cup of Ares.' Or, again, as old age is to life, so is
evening to day. Evening may therefore be called 'the old age of
the day,' and old age, 'the evening of life,' or, in the phrase