Susan Newman
July 6, 2012
Final Exam - Part A
Peeling Back the Layers of Tragedy
At the start of this course, I
began learning valuable information about genre, and the construction and
audience reaction to Tragedy. Tragedy contains flawed characters that are both
good and evil, which is something I had not reflected to a great extent until
attending lectures in this class. Layered characters, even when their actions
are over-the-top (such as Oedipus stabbing out his eyes with pins), are more
relatable than a perfect hero or a heartless villain found in genres of fantasy
or romance. I have recently learned that even when a character commits murder in
a tragedy, oftentimes the audience senses justice in the act.
In Aeschylus’s play
Agamemnon, Clytemnestra might be
considered a despicable wife by the audience if she is judged based solely on
the fact that she cheats on her husband and plots, along with her lover, her
husband’s demise. But, the audience can sympathize with her anger and resentment
toward Agamemnon for his sacrificing the life of their innocent daughter for his
pursuit of war. His honor was more precious to him than his child’s life. In
addition, the reader or watcher of the play might speculate Agamemnon was a
lousy husband, and after years of her being alone while he was at war,
Clytemnestra found love from another man.
During the course of this class,
I have realized that the audience often rationalizes this way because they want
to find redeeming qualities in the characters and want to even
like them. Of course, it makes sense
that I would not be the only one seeking common ground with these characters or
wanting to respect or admire them but I suppose I assumed it was because I have
a tendency to want to like people and seek positive attributes. I had not
actually put much thought into the idea of other readers truly wanting to like
tragic characters despite some of their dreadful deeds. During class
discussions, I understood this to be true as I listened to other students
comment about their empathy for Clytemnestra’s position and also on their wish
to like the unlikeable Vinnie in Mourning
Becomes Elektra.
Prior to the course, I had not
noticed that spectacles in tragedy generally take place off stage and are
subsequently narrated for the audience. It is interesting that in his
Poetics, Aristotle refers to the
spectacle in tragedy, a display that on film could manifest a haunting image, as
being the “least artistic.” He seems to think this is largely due to the fact
that there is only so much spectacular effect that can be created on stage by
theater crews. This thought makes sense to me, even in modern times, because
there is a limit to what dramatic effects can be produced in a play. In
addition, the spectacle is described by the chorus or characters in such a
spectacular way that it often exceeds realistic on-stage capabilities.
The creature that kills
Hippolytus is described in Racine’s
Phaedra as something so fierce and angry that a reader of current generation
can imagine the elaborate special effects this would require for a film version
of the text. For this reason, I think it works better for the play that the
story of the battle and death of Hippolytus is relayed to his father by another
character. A benefit to an off-stage spectacle, other than the audience using
their imaginations, is the focus remaining on the pity and terror that
spectators feel for characters. Its focus is less about one act or event than it
is about the plot, the haunting sequence leading up to the spectacle, and the
tragic results. The horror lies in the shocking capabilities of complex
characters, not in the action of the
actual brutality. In Desire Under the
Elms, the audience is dismayed over Abbie’s murdering her baby but O’Neill
knew he could potentially lose his audience and that they would hate Abbie more
than they pitied her, had they been subjected to the action involved in the
infant’s killing. She is neither completely good nor completely bad. She is
hopelessly and tragically flawed.
In
The Birth of Tragedy, Friedrich
Nietzsche says Apollo and Dionysus have “artistic powers which spring from
nature itself, without mediation of the human artist” (18). Both are artistic
imitators but the Apolline is a dream artist and the Dionysiac is an ecstatic
artist, and some imitations are both. I
read The Bacchae in a previous class
but did not know these opposites are considered dualities who, at the same time,
can have overlapping gray areas. They conflict, yet blend, as do characters in
tragedy.
I have learned a lot about the
ins and outs of tragedy and its flawed, relatable characters. I found the terms
and themes listed in the handouts to be helpful and enlightening for future
reading/viewing. The conventions that are listed for genres brought to light
interesting and familiar formulas to my experience with stories. My existing
knowledge of genres was not nearly as extensive as what we have encountered in
this course and frankly, I am relieved to find out that almost all genres
overlap with one or more other genres. This makes it easier to accurately define
and describe various stories. As stated by Haylie Unger in reference to
navigating genres, “I toss away the stone tablet of ‘black and white rules’”
(Dr. White, Samples 2010).
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