Annie McCormick-Vass

03 July 2006

Tragedy and Family:  Parents and Unrealized Dreams

            This semester we have read a variety of dramas from a variety of time periods.  Whether the play was written a couple of thousand years ago in Greece or fifty years ago in America, certain ideas keep popping up in these tragedies.  Two of these notions are the family and dreams, both of which are ideas with which anyone can identify.  It can certainly be argued that the greatness of tragedy (or of any genre, for that matter) increases when the audience is able to identify with the characters and what is going on in their world. 

O’Neill’s definition of the role of the dream in tragedy is as follows:

The tragedy of life is what makes it worthwhile.  I think that any life which merits living lies in the effort to realize some dream, and the higher that dream is the harder it is to realize.  Most decidedly we must all have our dreams.  If one hasn't them, one might as well be dead.  The only success is in failure.  Any man who has a big enough dream must be a failure and must accept this as one of the conditions of being alive.  If he ever thinks for a moment that he is a success, then he is finished. (Gelb 180)

O’Neill recognizes that dreams are necessary since they can act as a sort of palliative for the things happening in reality.  In tragedy, however, dreams tend to be left unrealized, which is what leads to tragic events.  In the second half of the semester we encountered a mother who killed her children, Antigone and Jamie suffering from the shortcomings of their parents, and Walter who wants nothing more than to see a dream fulfilled.  In each of these instances it becomes clear that parents’ deferred dreams lead to tragic events in the lives of their children. 

            Unlike so many of the other dramas we have read, Medea does not include characters that verbalize dreams or throw around the term “dream”.  It can be argued, though, that Medea does have a dream and that dream is for a happy family, something along the lines of a traditional nuclear family: a mother, a father, and their children.  Jason comments that “It is natural for a woman to be enraged / when her husband goes off making second marriages” (149).  Medea is a bit more than enraged, I would venture to say.  Because Jason ruins her vision (ironically, he is an important and necessary part of her dream, perhaps making it all the more tragic) that is what ultimately brings about the tragic events of the drama.   And, as seen in Antigone and Long Day’s Journey into Night with A Moon for the Misbegotten, the children suffer for the shortcomings of their parents.  The nurse of Medea’s children sobs, “Why make the sons / share in their father’s / Guilt? Oh, why / should they be hated?” (138).  The children have done nothing wrong to shatter their mother’s dream, but they are still killed.  Her response to Jason over the deaths of the children explains it all:  “I would not let you or your royal princess / set our wedded life aside, / make me cheap, / so that you could live in bliss” (157).  Medea could not have the life she envisioned, so she decided to make everyone else around her miserable.  Her shattered dream led to her tragically murdering her children. 

            Just as Medea’s children had to suffer for their father’s unwise actions, so, too, did Antigone.  The first half of the semester we read Oedipus and learned his tragic story.  While there are no direct mentions of dreams in the play, it could be argued that Oedipus was living a dream.  He was king, had a wife and children, and was well respected.  Those are some lofty goals to have achieved.  Yet, all of that comes crashing down on Oedipus.  His dream was only momentarily realized.  There are a couple of mentions of the parents’ effect on the lives of their children in Antigone.  The chorus makes the connection between Antigone’s tragic demise with the tragic life of her father:  “I have seen this gathering sorrow from time long past / Loom upon Oedipus’ children: generation from generation / Takes the compulsive rage of the enemy god” (117).  While there is a certain amount of responsibility given to Fate, it is still recognized that her father’s actions have helped to bring about the tragic events of her life.  Antigone also recognizes that her father’s past has an effect on her present.  She remarks that the marriage of a son and his mother caused as “infection on all our family! / O Oedipus, father and brother! / Your marriage strikes from the grave to murder mine” (120).  There was nothing she could do to escape what her father had done.  His momentary dream turned into an absolute nightmare that cost his daughter her life.

            Another example of parents losing their dreams and the children suffering is found in Long Day’s Journey.  Jamie’s mother reveals that she had two dreams growing up.  She wanted to “be a nun, that was the more beautiful one. [Or] To become a concert pianist, that was the other” (106).  Instead, she gave up her dreams, became a wife and a mother, and then a morphine addict.  The last of which is the complete opposite of beauty.  Jamie’s father also confesses that he had bigger ambitions.  He says, “I could have been a great Shakespearean actor, if I’d kept on” (153).  Yet, he does not keep on.  Instead he sticks with a character in a production that gets him typecast and he becomes an alcoholic.  In this play Jamie is not around much, but we hear from his father that he is no good and he, too, likes alcohol a little too much.  Jamie’s character (along with its flaws) is further explored in A Moon.  This is years down the road, but he still is an alcoholic.  His problems are seen mostly in his relationship with Josie.  The two have a very odd relationship.  Jamie is looking for love, which is something he has generally found in the wrong places, namely with whores.  Jamie and Josie definitely share an attraction, but it tragically can not be realized.  Both are aware the Jamie will continue to drink and Jamie does not want Josie to turn into another one-night-stand that brings him nothing but guilt.  He admits, “…and if I could give you happiness—But it wouldn’t work.  You don’t know me.  I’d poison it for myself and for you” (926).  He is not able to distinguish between love and lust and that is what makes his romance with Josie all the more tragic.  Even though he leaves Josie feeling refreshed and forgiven, it is hard to imagine Jamie going back to Broadway and not reverting to his previous lifestyle.  It seems like Jamie is destined to remain a slave to substance abuse, just as his parents were.

            A Raisin in the Sun presents a slightly different take on the effect of a parent’s broken dreams on a child.  Walter has so many dreams and he puts it in rather stark terms: “Man say to his woman: I got me a dream.  His woman say: Eat your eggs” (1237).  No one will listen to what Walter has to say or what he wants to do with his life.  Instead, he and his family are crammed into a small apartment trying to get by.  Walter foolishly thinks that money is literally the answer to all of his dreams.  However, when he finally gets his hands on some money, he loses it in a scam and must then reexamine his dreams.  Interestingly, his mother helps him to realize this.  When Walter has the potential to trade his family’s dream of a new house for money, he finally makes a stand.  As Mama puts it, “He finally come into his manhood today…” (1270).  Walter’s dreams might have changed, but it seems like his new dream leaves the family with some hope.  The other dramas discussed thus far have few possibilities for any real hopeful continuations.  When Walter’s dreams were tied up in money and were more self-centered, his children were going to suffer.  His wife is pregnant and considers an abortion.  Ruth was going to take the path that Medea chose.  Also, I would venture to say that the real turning point in the play, and in Walter’s idea of dreams, comes when Mama tells Walter that Travis is going to watch him demean himself for money.  She tells him, “Travis, you stay right here.  And you make him understand what you doing, Walter Lee” (1269).  I think Walter realizes that his family, especially his son, counts on him to uphold the family’s integrity.  Had Walter chosen the money over the house, it could be assumed there would have been a sequel to the play about the tragic adulthood of Travis.

            In all of the examples, dreams and family are constantly in play.  And it is when dreams are disrupted that the families begin to truly suffer.  Our Aristotle Poetics handout acknowledges that “…when the tragic incident occurs between those who are near or dear to one another…these are the situations to be looked for by the poet”.  For ages family has been regarded as a staple element of tragedy.  Perhaps more of a recently added tragic element, especially with the help of certain clichés such as “Follow your dreams!” and the standard American Dream, dreams unrealized help fuel the sad events strung together in tragedy.  It seems, then, that the combination of family and dreams makes for a particularly effective and quite dramatic addition to tragedy.

Work Cited

(I had a different version than the class.)