The Aristotelian Induction: and some Related Problems

1.

Tragedy, then, is an imitation of an action that is serious, complete, and of a certain magnitude; in language embellished with each kind of artistic ornament, the several kinds being found in separate parts of the play, in the form of action, not of narrative; through pity and fear effecting the proper purgation of these emotions. ¹

There is no agreement as to what an action is, or how it is to be defined. Imitation is perhaps the most debated word in the Poetics. Serious can be defined initially as ‘that which matters’ as opposed to that which is superficial, transitory: but its connotations have both narrowed and expanded throughout literary history. Complete is defined as that which has a beginning, a middle and an end. Both beginning and end raise dramatic problems. Magnitude is dealt with elsewhere. What, exactly, are pity and fear in tragedy, and what is purgation? in Aristotle's sense, or in ours?

2.

Again, Tragedy is an imitation of an action; and an action implies personal agents, who necessarily possess certain distinctive qualities both of character and thought; for it is by these that we qualify actions themselves, and these—thought and character—are the two natural causes from which actions spring, and on actions again all success or failure depends. ¹

What is the relationship of thought and character to action? And what is the relationship of both to personality? By what scales—religious, ethical, social, personal—do we reckon success or failure?

3.

Hence, the Plot is the imitation of the action:—for by plot I here mean the arrangement of the incidents. ²

The Greek and the modern meanings of plot appear to differ: for the Greek dramatist is writing on the foundation of an accepted myth, which it is his business to re-time and reorganize.

4.

But most important of all is the structure of the incidents. For Tragedy is an imitation, not of men, but of an action and of life, and life consists in action, and its end is a mode of action, not a quality. ³

Aristotle's emphasis on plot is reasonable, since he has a biological approach to tragedy, and the plot is the skeleton of the animal. But his second proposition raises metaphysical and ethical questions; both absolutely, and in their relation to Greek and Christian thought.

5.

… the most powerful elements of emotional interest in Tragedy— Peripeteia or Reversal of the Situation, and Recognition scenes— are parts of the plot. ⁴

Peripeteia may, for the moment, be defined as a ‘turn’ in the plot (to use Dryden's phrase) which involves a recoil upon the inventor's head; Recognition is ‘the realization that things are otherwise than they were believed to be at some prior stage in the plot’. But both terms require amplification and discussion. Recognition in particular, in view of its relationship to memory as well as to inductive reasoning, is of special interest in dramatic criticism.

6.

But the limit as fixed by the nature of the drama itself is this:— the greater the length, the more beautiful will the piece be by reason of its size, provided that the whole be perspicuous. ⁵

The question of length has, obviously, other factors: probably the momentum which (it will be argued later) must be generated in the action. (But consider the problem of the one-act tragedy—e.g. Riders to the Sea.)

7.

As therefore, in the other imitative arts, the imitation is one when the object imitated is one, so the plot being an imitation of an action, must imitate one action and that a whole … ¹

Assuming that we have defined action and imitation, in what sense is the unity of action to be understood?

8.

Poetry, therefore, is a more philosophical and a higher thing than history; for poetry tends to express the universal, history the particular. ²

Assuming again that history is the object of factual narrative—which is, of course, impossible—what is the sense of more philosophical and universal?

9.

But tragedians still keep to real names, the reason being that what is possible is credible: what has not happened we do not at once feel sure to be possible: but what has happened is manifestly possible, otherwise it would not have happened. ³

What are the advantages of the historical fable? It will, obviously, facilitate the task of exposition: but what effect has it on the credibility of the play? And is ‘credibility’ necessary? What is the relationship of the Past to the Present in the tragic structure?

10.

Of all plots and actions the epeisodic are the worst. I call a plot ‘episodic’ in which the episodes or acts succeed one another without probable or necessary sequence. ⁴

Is the ‘epeisodic’ plot necessarily bad? How are we to define probable and necessary? What is the distinction between the probable and the improbable but possible? What is the delicate balance between the criteria of our own reason, and the ‘willing suspension of disbelief‘ that the dramatist enforces upon reader or audience?

11.

But again, Tragedy is an imitation not only of a complete action, but of events inspiring fear or pity. Such an effect is best produced when the events come on us by surprise; and the effect is heightened when, at the same time, they follow as cause and effect. The tragic wonder will then be greater than if they happened of themselves or by accident; for even coincidences are most striking when they have an air of design. ⁵

Is it true that pity and fear—whatever they may be—are best produced by surprise? And what is meant by cause and effect? What does of themselves mean? What is the part played by accident? and is it true that coincidences are most striking when they have an air of design? When does this design merge into Determinism?

12.

… the change of fortune presented must not be the spectacle of a virtuous man brought from prosperity to adversity: for this moves neither pity nor fear; it merely shocks us. Nor, again, that of a bad man passing from adversity to prosperity: for nothing can be more alien to the spirit of Tragedy; it possesses no single tragic quality; it neither satisfies the moral sense nor calls forth pity or fear. Nor, again, should the downfall of the utter villain be exhibited. A plot of this kind would, doubtless, satisfy the moral sense, but it would inspire neither pity nor fear; for pity is aroused by unmerited misfortune, fear by the misfortune of a man like ourselves. Such an event, therefore, will be neither pitiful nor terrible. ¹

Aristotle raises the whole question of the ‘sinless hero’. As a further point of interest he appears to isolate the satisfaction of the moral sense from the emotional responses of pity and fear; the former being no doubt intellectual. Further, the partial definitions of pity and fear in the last sentence may seem to us to simplify these emotions to an undue extent.

13.

Two parts, then, of the Plot—Reversal of the Situation and Recognition—turn upon surprises. A third part is the Scene of Suffering. The Scene of Suffering is a destructive or painful action, such as death on the stage, bodily agony, wounds and the like. ²

What is the value of the Scene of Suffering? Is it an archaic survival, and no longer to be tolerated? Or has it sadistic or masochistic elements of possible therapeutic value? Is there a limit to dramatic toleration of suffering? How is it to be connected, if at all, with Christian values?

14.

(The tragic hero should be) … a man who is not eminently good and just, yet whose misfortune is brought about not by vice or depravity, but by some error or frailty. He must be one who is highly renowned and prosperous,—a personage like Oedipus, Thyestes, or other illustrious men of such families. ³

How far have the changes in the social and political pattern made obsolete the original symbolic values of the hero in his identification with the fate of his people? Are there any compensating factors in modern drama which produce the necessary sense of projected sympathy—if, indeed, this is the explanation of the tragic hero's stature and appeal? What is error or frailty? how is it to be reconciled with, e.g., the Hegelian theory? What is its connection with ethical and religious ideas of ‘sin’—whatever definitions we may allow for that word? And how far do changing concepts of sin—as for instance those involved in the transition from Nineteenth Century Liberal thought to modern ‘Realistic’ theology—bear upon the question of tragic responsibility?

15.

Those who employ spectacular means to create a sense not of the terrible but only of the monstrous, are strangers to the purpose of Tragedy; for we must not demand of Tragedy any and every kind of pleasure, but only that which is proper to it And since the pleasure which the poet should afford is that which comes from pity and fear through imitation, it is evident that this quality must be impressed upon the incidents. ¹

Terrible — horrible — monstrous — grotesque—what meanings are we to give these words? And what kinds of ‘pleasure’ are proper to tragedy?

16.

(The playwright) 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 invention of his own, and skilfully handle the traditional material. ²

In view of the consistent appeal of the received legends—whether as archetypes or for some other reason—what are the limits that should be imposed on the playwright who handles them?

17.

Now any speech or action that manifests moral purpose of any kind will be expressive of character: the character will be good if the purpose is good. ³

Again this question of the relationship of character to action: with the need for reaching an understanding of purpose, or, perhaps, will.

18.

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… ¹

Enough has been written of the function of the Chorus in Greek drama; but the uncertain and variable handling of it on the modern stage demands consideration.

19.

The perfection of style is to be clear without being mean. The clearest style is that which uses only current or proper words; at the same time it is mean:—witness the poetry of Cleophon and Sthenelus. That diction, on the other hand, is lofty and raised above the commonplace which employs unusual words. ²

The diction of tragedy, whether it attains its ends through ‘that high breeding which is the essence of all style’, or through the delineation of character through rhythm; or whether its poetic content should be unnoticeable, not raised above the commonplace — these are matters of importance.

20.

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 … not within the drama. ³

A famous critical dictum, which has a good deal of bearing on the tragic form. Does this barrier of the irrational make the ‘imitation‘ of religious material impossible?

21.

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. ⁴

A curious statement, which might be taken to imply a relativist view of morality. What is poetically good or bad? And is not this a starting point for an aesthetic of drama?