Cassandra Parke
Tragedy: An Art of Unity
Tragedy is unlike any other genre in that in that it depicts the entirety
of the human condition, the good and the bad. According to Nietzsche in
The Birth of Tragedy, tragedy is the
product of dialogue between the Apolline and the Dionysiac, between aesthetic
forms, and the formless will. It is also the product of the mingling of nobility
and twistedness, of the beautiful and the grotesque, of enduring virtue and
incomprehensible sin. Tragedians are remarkable in that they can cause these
opposites to coincide seamlessly within their characters and their plots, to
create a balance that is not necessarily enjoyable, but moving, haunting, and
healing. Tragedy’s sublimity and poignancy stems from the fact that it is an art
of unity; the characters and the audience cease to be distinct from one another
due to the universal nature and cohesiveness of a tragic work.
Tragedy evokes common fears and passions in audience members that seem to
originate at humanity’s core and produce a sense of unity that is truly
Dionysiac. For example, the revulsion elicited by the recognition that Jocasta
is Oedipus’ mother in Oedipus the King
is nearly universal, indicating that abhorrence of incest is fundamental to
human nature. Through common instinct, the audience members are reminded that
all humans are the same at their core, and that perhaps we are derived from a
common source. This experience is exceptionally appealing to modern audience
members who have been further individuated and isolated by globalization and
communicative technology.
According to Nietzsche, the chorus is an integral part of tragedy, which is
chiefly responsible for the Dionysiac experience. Nietzsche argues that the
recession, and ultimate elimination of the chorus nullifies the Dionysiac value
of tragic works. However, as seen in Racine’s
Phaedra, the chorus function has
survived modernization, and is absorbed into characters with whom the modern
audience can relate more than they might with an abstract chorus. In
Phaedra, each of the main characters
is assigned a sub-character much like themselves. Aricia’s attendant, Ismene,
and Hippolytus’ tutor, Theramenes, bear striking resemblances to the ones they
serve. Ismene’s words are eloquent, polite and measured, much like Aricia’s.
Theramenes is a loyal servant who seems to agree with his pupil throughout the
narrative. Phaedra’s struggles with her incestuous desires are articulated
through her conversations with the cunning Oenone.
From
a psychoanalytical perspective, these sub-characters represent the id, or
subconscious desires of their counterparts. Ismene draws Aricia’s attention to
Hippolytus’ strange behavior, which is indicative of his affections for her.
Theramenes drives the plot by encouraging Hippolytus to visit Phaedra,
furthering the development of the Oedipal complex (Course \ “Oedipal Conflict”
page). Finally, Oenone rationalizes Phaedra’s desires and seeks to realize them.
The fact that Oenone defies and works against Phaedra demonstrates how
conflicted Phaedra feels.
The
expression of repressed desires is, in itself Dionysiac. Beyond that, seemingly
ordinary characters like Aricia and Theramenes, and even, to some extent, the
utilitarian Oenone, are easier for modern audiences to relate to. The chorus
functions of narration and dialogue are absorbed by these characters, but
additionally, their simple characterization allows audience members to better
relate to them. Nietzsche asserts that ancient Greek audience members lost
themselves in the chorus and temporarily came to see things through the chorus
members’ eyes; in the same fashion, modern audience members lose themselves in
the sub-characters, who serve a dual-function as both shadows of main
characters, and shadows of the audience members, bringing the two together. By
sort of mentally layering their consciousness over the unremarkable and familiar
framework of these sub-characters, the spectator is able to move on-stage as an
ordinary individual observing extraordinary events.
This
phenomenon brings the spectator closer to the tragic characters, eliciting
greater pity and fear, and effecting powerful catharsis, or the purgation of
emotion (Poetics 11b). Because tragic
works explore issues that are universal and close to human nature, the audience
members mourn the misfortune of the characters, not as men or women, or people
of their particular circumstances, but merely as human beings, indistinct from
one another.
In
addition to benefiting from a sense of unity and renewed appreciation for
humanity through catharsis, audience members relate to tragic characters who
possess tragic flaws (Course “Tragic Flaw” page), or else recognize and
empathize with their struggles because the plot enacts mimesis, or the imitation
of real life (Course “Mimesis” page). Through mimesis, tragedy is able to offer
valid lessons that challenge audience members to reflect on universal, or shared
issues. Tragedy has more to offer than any other genre, in that it provides both
entertainment and education (Course “Dual purpose of literature” page). Because
problems and faults are internalized by tragic characters, rather than
transferred to some ‘other’, as in romance, the ways in which these negative
aspects are addressed by characters have bearing on reality (Course “Tragedy”
and “Romance” pages). Common themes in tragedy include lessons about fate,
faith, justice, and hubris. For example,
The Eumenides demonstrates the distinction between revenge and justice, and
advises individuals to defer to the authority of the court system, rather than
perpetuating the cycle of violence. Another example is the fact that Creon’s
hubris and unwillingness to change in Sophocles’
Antigone dooms him.
As
Kaitlin Jaschek eloquently stated in her midterm paper: “Tragedy does not allow
us to “escape” our problems or feel assured that everything will always turn out
for the best; instead it shows us that sometimes evil does prevail or bad things
happen, but it helps us determine how we will navigate or respond to those
evils”. While the world of romance and comedy may be easier to enjoy, its
challenges and outcomes have little bearing on reality.
History evidences that people are united through suffering, such as in a time of
war. As Dr. White mentioned in class, great tragic works frequently arise during
times of hardship. The return to fundamental human instinct that tragedy brings
about is especially appealing in difficult times in which individuation brings
about suffering. This humbling unity, inspired by pity and fear, cuts through
pride and apathy, and allows people to become receptive to learning.
In order to develop universal lessons, tragedians must be very deliberate
in their writing and develop a cohesive, unified narrative in which characters’
fates are overdetermined. Tragic works are riddled with symbolism, foreshadowing
and meaningful diction that all contributes to a definite lesson. According to
Aristotle’s Poetics, plot is the very
soul of tragedy and characters are secondary (Poetics
6e). In tragedy, characters are instruments of the plot, while in romance, plot
is often a consequence of the characters’ actions and motivations. The tragic
plot itself is derived from the intended lesson. In tragedy, every word, and
every action serves a dual purpose by impacting both the narrative and the
lesson. For example, the discussion that takes place between Oedipus and Creon
regarding the mysterious identity of King Laius’ murderer at the beginning or
Oedipus the King develops their
characters, but also develops Oedipus’ tragic flaw as a man clever enough to
solve all problems but his own through the use of foreshadowing and irony.
Tragedy is distinguished by its depiction of great virtue that either
endures through, or is unearthed by, suffering. Aristotle believed that comedy
involves the imitation of characters of “a lower-type” (Poetics V), and that
tragedy imitates “noble actions, and the actions of good men” (Poetics IV). At
first glance, it might appear that tragedy is divisive rather than unifying in
that it is somewhat elitist by nature, frequently featuring upper-class
characters and extolling lessons or morals that reflect the views of those in
power (such as Oedipus at Colonus,
which confirms the powers of the Gods in keeping with the interests of the
priest-class, which was being challenged). However, by exhibiting the flaws and
downfalls of those same upper-class characters, tragic works indicate that all
humans are imperfect, and driven by the same instincts.
As
tragedy becomes more modern, it also becomes more democratic and egalitarian.
For example, in Desire Under the Elms,
Cabot is not a warrior or a ruler like Euripides’ Theseus, but a farmer and
laborer. Similarly, Abbie is an orphan, while Phaedra is a princess. These
middle-class characters struggle with the same misfortunes and desires as their
noble counterparts did, but are easier for the audience to connect to.
As
tragedy modernizes, it also incorporates more influences from other genres.
Nietzsche argues that Euripides brought about the death of tragedy, and that a
mockery or ghost of tragedy lived on through comedy (specifically new attic
comedy). Indeed, we see that comedy and tragedy have blended together in a
manner that Nietzsche did not expect, forming dark comedy, which has become a
powerful tool for the modern tragedian such as O’Neill.
O’Neill frequently uses dark comedy to prevent the reader from objectifying and
distancing themselves from abhorrent concepts such as the Oedipal complex. For
example, in Desire Under the Elms,
when Abbie attempts to tell Eben that she murdered their child, he assumes that
she is talking about Cabot. This mistaken identity is a common comedic tactic
and also appears with a dark twist in
Hamlet when the prince mistakes Polonius for Claudius, and kills him.
O’Neill further employs dark comedy when Abbie says “But that’s what I ought
t’done, hain’t it? I oughter have killed him instead. Why didn’t ye tell me?”
(O’Neill 56). The understatement of the line “Why didn’t ye tell me?” has a
comedic affect that is curbed by the fact that the audience is still reeling
from the death of the baby. The intended result is a peculiar, sick feeling that
is characteristic of O’Neill’s writing, and makes the convoluted ideologies of
his characters seem less abstract, and thus more real. Dark comedy is a powerful
tool through which the author can forcibly pull audience members into the
reality of tragic characters.
Another observable pattern as tragedy modernizes is that spectacle becomes more
prominent, but continues to be managed. According to the course website’s
“Spectacle” page, spectacle is that which creates “an impressive or interesting
show or entertainment for those viewing it”. It is gore, special effects,
costumes, shouting, violence, and the sensational. According to Aristotle, of
all of the elements of tragedy, spectacle is the least artistic, and so must be
repressed or managed (Poetics 6g). In
practice, this repression can involve allowing violent or shocking scenes to
occur off-stage such as when Agamemnon’s murder is not witnessed, but heard, and
described through Cassandra’s prophesy. This challenges audience members to
invent their own details, allowing them to participate in the narrative in their
own way. Again, this brings them closer to the characters, weakening the
distinctions between the on-stage world and reality.
In conclusion, tragic works are appealing because they elicit a sense of
unity and appeal to human instinct. Through catharsis, the chorus function,
mimesis, dark comedy, and management of spectacle, tragedy temporarily suspends
the sense of self and unites the consciousness of the spectator with the reality
of the characters. Although the chorus has receded, its function has been
adapted to modern audiences and still powerfully draws the spectator into the
work. Tragedy also offers universal lessons that remain relevant to the
spectator after the conclusion of the performance. As human society develops,
people become further individuated, increasingly lacking a sense of community
and empathy. Over time, the Dionysiac experience exacted through tragedy becomes
increasingly valuable and redeeming. In this respect, tragedy is the greatest
genre.
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