The Poetics of Aristotle
already laid down an adequate limit:--the beginning and the end must be
capable of being brought within a single view. This condition will be
satisfied by poems on a smaller scale than the old epics, and answering
in length to the group of tragedies presented at a single sitting.
Epic poetry has, however, a great--a special--capacity for enlarging
its dimensions, and we can see the reason. In Tragedy we cannot imitate
several lines of actions carried on at one and the same time; we must
confine ourselves to the action on the stage and the part taken by the
players. But in Epic poetry, owing to the narrative form, many events
simultaneously transacted can be presented; and these, if relevant to
the subject, add mass and dignity to the poem. The Epic has here an
advantage, and one that conduces to grandeur of effect, to diverting the
mind of the hearer, and relieving the story with varying episodes. For
sameness of incident soon produces satiety, and makes tragedies fail on
the stage.
As for the metre, the heroic measure has proved its fitness by the test
of experience. If a narrative poem in any other metre or in many metres
were now composed, it would be found incongruous. For of all measures
the heroic is the stateliest and the most massive; and hence it most
readily admits rare words and metaphors, which is another point in which
the narrative form of imitation stands alone. On the other hand, the
iambic and the trochaic tetrameter are stirring measures, the latter
being akin to dancing, the former expressive of action. Still more
absurd would it be to mix together different metres, as was done by
Chaeremon. Hence no one has ever composed a poem on a great scale in any
other than heroic verse. Nature herself, as we have said, teaches the
choice of the proper measure.
Homer, admirable in all respects, has the special merit of being the
only poet who rightly appreciates the part he should take himself. The
poet should speak as little as possible in his own person, for it is not
this that makes him an imitator. Other poets appear themselves upon the
scene throughout, and imitate but little and rarely. Homer, after a few
prefatory words, at once brings in a man, or woman, or other personage;
none of them wanting in characteristic qualities, but each with a
character of his own.
The element of the wonderful is required in Tragedy. The irrational, on
which the wonderful depends for its chief effects, has wider scope in
Epic poetry, because there the person acting is not seen. Thus, the
pursuit of Hector would be ludicrous if placed upon the stage--the
Greeks standing still and not joining in the pursuit, and Achilles
waving them back. But in the Epic poem the absurdity passes unnoticed.
Now the wonderful is pleasing: as may be inferred from the fact that
every one tells a story with some addition of his own, knowing that his
hearers like it. It is Homer who has chiefly taught other poets the
art of telling lies skilfully. The secret of it lies in a fallacy, For,
assuming that if one thing is or becomes, a second is or becomes, men
imagine that, if the second is, the first likewise is or becomes. But
this is a false inference. Hence, where the first thing is untrue, it is
quite unnecessary, provided the second be true, to add that the first
is or has become. For the mind, knowing the second to be true, falsely
infers the truth of the first. There is an example of this in the Bath
Scene of the Odyssey.
Accordingly, the poet should prefer probable impossibilities to
improbable possibilities. The tragic plot must not be composed of
irrational parts. Everything irrational should, if possible, be
excluded; or, at all events, it should lie outside the action of the
play (as, in the Oedipus, the hero's ignorance as to the manner of
Laius' death); not within the drama,--as in the Electra, the messenger's
account of the Pythian games; or, as in the Mysians, the man who
has come from Tegea to Mysia and is still speechless. The plea that
otherwise the plot would have been ruined, is ridiculous; such a plot
should not in the first instance be constructed. But once the irrational
has been introduced and an air of likelihood imparted to it, we must
accept it in spite of the absurdity. Take even the irrational incidents
in the Odyssey, where Odysseus is left upon the shore of Ithaca. How
intolerable even these might have been would be apparent if an inferior
poet were to treat the subject. As it is, the absurdity is veiled by the
poetic charm with which the poet invests it.
The diction should be elaborated in the pauses of the action, where
there is no expression of character or thought. For, conversely,
character and thought are merely obscured by a diction that is over
brilliant.
XXV
With respect to critical difficulties and their solutions, the number
and nature of the sources from which they may be drawn may be thus
exhibited.
The poet being an imitator, like a painter or any other artist, must
of necessity imitate one of three objects,--things as they were or are,
things as they are said or thought to be, or things as they ought to be.
The vehicle of expression is language,--either current terms or, it
may be, rare words or metaphors. There are also many modifications of
language, which we concede to the poets. Add to this, that the standard
of correctness is not the same in poetry and politics, any more than in
poetry and any other art. Within the art of poetry itself there are
two kinds of faults, those which touch its essence, and those which are
accidental. If a poet has chosen to imitate something, <but has imitated
it incorrectly> through want of capacity, the error is inherent in
the poetry. But if the failure is due to a wrong choice if he has
represented a horse as throwing out both his off legs at once, or
introduced technical inaccuracies in medicine, for example, or in any
other art the error is not essential to the poetry. These are the points
of view from which we should consider and answer the objections raised
by the critics.
First as to matters which concern the poet's own art. If he describes
the impossible, he is guilty of an error; but the error may be
justified, if the end of the art be thereby attained (the end being that
already mentioned), if, that is, the effect of this or any other part of
the poem is thus rendered more striking. A case in point is the pursuit
of Hector. If, however, the end might have been as well, or better,
attained without violating the special rules of the poetic art, the
error is not justified: for every kind of error should, if possible, be
avoided.
Again, does the error touch the essentials of the poetic art, or some
accident of it? For example,--not to know that a hind has no horns is a
less serious matter than to paint it inartistically.
Further, if it be objected that the description is not true to fact, the
poet may perhaps reply,--'But the objects are as they ought to be': just
as Sophocles said that he drew men as they ought to be; Euripides,
as they are. In this way the objection may be met. If, however, the
representation be of neither kind, the poet may answer,--This is how men
say the thing is.' This applies to tales about the gods. It may well be
that these stories are not higher than fact nor yet true to fact: they
are, very possibly, what Xenophanes says of them. But anyhow, 'this
is what is said.' Again, a description may be no better than the fact:
'still, it was the fact'; as in the passage about the arms: 'Upright
upon their butt-ends stood the spears.' This was the custom then, as it
now is among the Illyrians.
Again, in examining whether what has been said or done by some one is
poetically right or not, we must not look merely to the particular act
or saying, and ask whether it is poetically good or bad. We must also
consider by whom it is said or done, to whom, when, by what means, or
for what end; whether, for instance, it be to secure a greater good, or
avert a greater evil.
Other difficulties may be resolved by due regard to the usage of
language. We may note a rare word, as in {omicron upsilon rho eta alpha
sigma / mu epsilon nu / pi rho omega tau omicron nu}, where the poet
perhaps employs {omicron upsilon rho eta alpha sigma} not in the sense
of mules, but of sentinels. So, again, of Dolon: 'ill-favoured indeed
he was to look upon.' It is not meant that his body was ill-shaped, but
that his face was ugly; for the Cretans use the word {epsilon upsilon
epsilon iota delta epsilon sigma}, 'well-favoured,' to denote a fair
face. Again, {zeta omega rho omicron tau epsilon rho omicron nu /
delta epsilon / kappa epsilon rho alpha iota epsilon}, 'mix the drink
livelier,' does not mean `mix it stronger' as for hard drinkers, but
'mix it quicker.'
Sometimes an expression is metaphorical, as 'Now all gods and men were
sleeping through the night,'--while at the same time the poet says:
'Often indeed as he turned his gaze to the Trojan plain, he marvelled
at the sound of flutes and pipes.' 'All' is here used metaphorically for
'many,' all being a species of many. So in the verse,--'alone she hath
no part...,' {omicron iota eta}, 'alone,' is metaphorical; for the best
known may be called the only one.
Again, the solution may depend upon accent or breathing. Thus Hippias of
Thasos solved the difficulties in the lines,--{delta iota delta omicron
mu epsilon nu (delta iota delta omicron mu epsilon nu) delta epsilon
/ omicron iota,} and { tau omicron / mu epsilon nu / omicron upsilon
(omicron upsilon) kappa alpha tau alpha pi upsilon theta epsilon tau
alpha iota / omicron mu beta rho omega}.
Or again, the question may be solved by punctuation, as in
Empedocles,--'Of a sudden things became mortal that before had learnt to
be immortal, and things unmixed before mixed.'
Or again, by ambiguity of meaning,--as {pi alpha rho omega chi eta kappa
epsilon nu / delta epsilon / pi lambda epsilon omega / nu upsilon xi},
where the word {pi lambda epsilon omega} is ambiguous.
Or by the usage of language. Thus any mixed drink is called {omicron
iota nu omicron sigma}, 'wine.' Hence Ganymede is said 'to pour the wine
to Zeus,' though the gods do not drink wine. So too workers in iron
are called {chi alpha lambda kappa epsilon alpha sigma}, or workers in
bronze. This, however, may also be taken as a metaphor.
Again, when a word seems to involve some inconsistency of meaning, we
should consider how many senses it may bear in the particular passage.
For example: 'there was stayed the spear of bronze'--we should ask
in how many ways we may take 'being checked there.' The true mode
of interpretation is the precise opposite of what Glaucon mentions.
Critics, he says, jump at certain groundless conclusions; they pass
adverse judgment and then proceed to reason on it; and, assuming that
the poet has said whatever they happen to think, find fault if a thing
is inconsistent with their own fancy. The question about Icarius
has been treated in this fashion. The critics imagine he was a
Lacedaemonian. They think it strange, therefore, that Telemachus should
not have met him when he went to Lacedaemon. But the Cephallenian story
may perhaps be the true one. They allege that Odysseus took a wife from
among themselves, and that her father was Icadius not Icarius. It is
merely a mistake, then, that gives plausibility to the objection.
In general, the impossible must be justified by reference to artistic
requirements, or to the higher reality, or to received opinion. With
respect to the requirements of art, a probable impossibility is to
be preferred to a thing improbable and yet possible. Again, it may be
impossible that there should be men such as Zeuxis painted. 'Yes,' we