Heather Minette Schutmaat
6 May
2016
1.
The Universality of Tragic Conflict
When
I think of “tragedy” in the literary sense, the first word that comes to mind is
“universal.” This is of course partly owing to having been taught that tragedy
is often considered the greatest and most universal literary genre, but more so
because in studying Greek Tragedy and the tragedy of Africa, I’ve found that
many of the defining features of tragedy are also defining features of the
universal human condition. For example, in my midterm I focused on mixed
characterization as a defining feature of tragedy and demonstrated that unlike
the narrative genre of romance in which the good and bad characters, or heroes
and villains, are clearly defined, tragedy characterizes humans as a mixture of
both good and bad, and thus portrays humanity more realistically. Because of
tragedy’s realistic portrayal of humanity, readers can more easily identify with
characters because by simply being human, we too inevitably have both bad and
good qualities and can relate to characters that are like us. In other words,
characters of tragedy speak to us on a deeper level than those of other literary
genres because mixed characterization is also a familiar feature of the
universal human condition. In addition to mixed characterization, I’ve also
found that the nature of the situations that characters of tragedy find
themselves in is also more like real life—particularly in the way that there is
not always a clearly defined right or wrong solution to the conflicts we
encounter throughout life. Like the characters of tragedy, the situations are
also more familiar to us, as we all at some point in life find ourselves in a
tragic conflict, or a situation in which any of our options for action will
ultimately have unwanted consequences or the potential for regret.
One
of the most extreme but well-defined examples of tragic conflict in the works
we’ve read throughout the semester is Agamemnon’s sacrifice of his daughter
Iphigenia in part one of The Oresteia Trilogy. In my midterm I
demonstrated how this section of the play highlights Agamemnon’s mixed
characterization, as we may initially deem him a villain because he sacrifices
his daughter, but then realize he is also heroic in the way that he makes a
painful sacrifice in order to gain favorable winds to save his fleet. Revisiting
Agamemnon’s quote, I found that it also serves as a precise illustration of
tragic conflict:
“It's
harsh not to obey this fate—but to go through with it is harsh as well, to kill
my child, the glory of my house, to stain a father's hands before the altar with
streams of virgin's blood. Which of my options is not evil? … How can I just
leave this fleet, and let my fellow warriors down? Their passionate demand for
sacrifice to calm the winds lies within their rights—
even
the sacrifice of virgin blood. So be it. All may be well." (242-253)
Here,
Agamemnon defines tragic conflict by expressing that both options are evil; he
must either sacrifice his child or let his fleet die. Furthermore, although he
decides that “all may be well” in sacrificing his daughter to gain favorable
winds for his fleet, we see that his decision ultimately has consequences
harsher than he had thought, as Clytaemnestra kills Agamemnon in order to avenge
her daughter’s death. Although Agamemnon’s situation is an intense
exemplification of tragic conflict, as the nature of the genre is to dramatize,
and is certainly beyond the conflicts the average person faces, I believe it
“excites pity and fear” in readers (Aristotle XIII[a]) and “he who hears the
tale told will thrill with horror and melt to pity at what takes place,” because
readers can identify with a situation in which neither option for action is
without devastating consequences.
In short, Agamemnon’s situation affects readers on the level that it does
because the nature of the tragic conflict reflects situations in our own lives,
and therefore is not only a feature of tragedy as a literary genre, but also a
feature of the human condition.
Another powerful example of a
tragic conflict, which is strikingly similar to Agamemnon’s and also shows how
Greek Tragedy and the tragedy of Africa converge, is that of Okonkwo in
Things Fall Part. While Ikemefuna is
not Okonkwo’s biological son, he quickly grows so fond of him that he considers
him a son and Ikemefuna soon thinks of Okonkwo as his father. In chapter seven,
after Ikemefuna has been with Okonkwo and his family for three years, Ogbuefi
Ezeudu visits Okonkwo and tells him that the Oracle has ordered Ikemefuna to be
killed: “Umuofia has decided to kill him. The Oracle of the Hills and the Caves
has pronounced it. They will take him outside of Umuofia as is custom, and kill
him there. But I want you to have nothing to do with it. He calls you his
father” (Achebe 57). Although Okonkwo loves Ikemefuna as his son, the Oracle’s
orders are considered law in his culture, and he finds himself in a tragic
conflict—in a situation “that strikes us as terrible or pitiful” (Aristotle
14B)— as Okonkwo “sat still for a very long time supporting his chin in his
palms,” undoubtedly contemplating, like Agamemnon, that both of his options were
evil (Achebe 57). Further corresponding with Agamemnon’s sacrifice of Iphigenia,
Okonkwo submits to the Oracle’s orders, and not only walks to Ikemefuna to his
death, but participates in it because “he was afraid of being thought weak”
(Achebe 61). Although Okonkwo is the one to kill Ikemefuna, and thus, must’ve
thought it was the better of his options, we see in the following chapter that
he grieves his death, and he cannot eat, sleep, or stop thinking about the boy
for days.
Again, the situations of Agamemnon and Okonkwo are very extreme and
dramatic examples of a tragic conflict, and it may initially seem unlikely that
the majority of readers can relate to such devastating circumstances. Yet, when
simplified, or broken down, they are ultimately situations in which characters
must act, but neither option for action is favorable. Therefore, just as tragedy
portrays humanity as mixed, tragedy also portrays life choices more
realistically, as the correct or favorable option for action is not clearly
defined, or perhaps does not exist. In other words, whichever they choose, they
will inevitably regret, because that is the nature of tragic conflict, which all
readers at some point in their lives have experienced or will experience simply
by being human. In connecting tragic conflict to other situations in life that
demonstrate the nature of the conflict, the ideas the 19th century Danish
philosopher and theologian Soren Kierkegaard come to mind. In philosophizing
about the emotions and feelings of individuals when faced with life choices,
Kierkegaard said:
“Marry, and you will regret it; don’t marry, you will also regret it; marry or
don’t marry, you will regret it either way. Laugh at the world’s foolishness,
you will regret it; weep over it, you will regret that too; laugh at the world’s
foolishness or weep over it, you will regret both. Believe a woman, you will
regret it; believe her not, you will also regret it… Hang yourself, you will
regret it; do not hang yourself, and you will regret that too; hang yourself or
don’t hang yourself, you’ll regret it either way; whether you hang yourself or
do not hang yourself, you will regret both. This, gentlemen, is the essence of
all philosophy.”
Here,
Kierkegaard explicitly states that regret is the essence of all philosophy, and
although a profoundly gloomy view, it could also be said that it’s the essence
of the human condition, especially as it is portrayed through tragedy. In “The
Tragic Irony of Irony in Tragedy,” Jon Buice expresses a belief similar to that
of Kierkegaard, stating, “Tragedy is a universal expression and explication of
our basic human condition, which to me is an existence in a meaningless and
amoral universe that typically ends in tragedy despite our attempts to elevate
ourselves above this fate.” This statement relates to the conflicts of Agamemnon
and Okonkwo, as Agamemnon and Okonkwo both make painful sacrifices, but their
attempts to make the right choice are futile because their situations, like many
situations characteristic of the human condition, end in tragedy despite their
efforts to make the right decision and transcend it.
Although considering the human condition as an ultimate tragedy or a
state of perpetual regret is a very pessimistic view, and far too sad to fit my
own mode of thinking since my experience in life has been filled with just as
much joy and certainty as tragedy and regret, tragic conflict is still an
inevitable component of the human experience. Like the old idiom states, we’ve
all been stuck between a rock and hard place, and tragedy portrays this familiar
conflict dramatically, but accurately, and because readers can sympathize with
the characters’ situations just as they can sympathize with the characters’
mixed humanity, tragedy is considered the most universal literary genre, as its
defining features also define the universal human condition.
2. A
Perspective on the Tragic Flaw
“That
quality of yours now ruins you” – Sophocles
One of the most interesting concepts we’ve discussed in the course is the
tragic flaw, also called hamartia, which is the trait or defect of a tragic hero
that ultimately causes his downfall. Consistent with the mixed characterization
of humanity in tragedy, a hero’s tragic flaw “indicates something wrong but not
necessarily evil or villainous.” As Aristotle states in
Poetics: "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.
There remains, then, the character between these two extremes—that of 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” (13 b). Therefore, the
tragic flaw is not portrayed in tragedy as a purely malevolent trait, but as a
human fault in character that leads to misfortune. Moreover, in examining the
tragic flaw, I’ve found that oftentimes the tragic flaw of a hero is also a
trait that could be considered a talent or strength that could potentially lead
him to a favorable outcome, but because of the nature of tragedy and its mission
to inspire pity and fear, it instead leads him to his ruin.
A strong example of the tragic flaw, especially in terms of a tragic flaw
as a characteristic that could potentially be good or considered a strength, is
that of Oedipus in Oedipus the King.
Oedipus’s most obvious error in character is his temper, as he unknowingly kills
his own father Laius in a moment of rage: “The old man, seeing me walking past
him in the carriage, kept his eye on me, and with his double whip struck me on
my head, right here on top. Well, I retaliated in good measure—I hit him a quick
blow with the staff I held and knocked him from his carriage to the road. He lay
there on his back. Then I killed them all” (lines 970-978). We also see Oedipus
lash out at both Tiresias and Creon, which further emphasizes Oedipus’s temper.
However, while Oedipus’s temper is definitely a flaw in his character, I believe
that what actually brings Oedipus to his downfall is his determination to find
out who murdered Laius and to kill them or expel them from the land in order to
cure Thebes of disease. Such determination is undoubtedly a strength in
character and Oedipus’s resolve to save his land from “the polluting stain” is
certainly admirable, but as we see by the end of the play, Oedipus’s
determination to discover who killed Laius despite Tiresias’s warning brings him
to his downfall, as he discovers that it was he who killed his father and that
he had married his mother. Therefore, in Oedipus’s case, his most impressive
characteristic is what brings his downfall.
Like Oedipus, Okonkwo’s most obvious flaw is his temper. Although he is
characterized as honorable, well known, and determined, Achebe also tells
readers “Okonkwo ruled his household with a heavy hand. His wives, especially
the youngest, lived in perpetual fear of his fiery temper, and so did his little
children. Perhaps down in his heart Okonkwo was not a cruel man. But his whole
life was dominated by fear, the fear of failure and weakness” (13). However,
Okonkwo’s temper is not what leads to his downfall. Instead, like Oedipus’s
determination in saving his land, Okonkwo is also determined to save his village
from the colonizers and regain power. Okonkwo’s determination, however, leads
him to his ruin, as he decapitates a British messenger during a war meeting and
the rest of the clansmen let the messengers escape and break into “tumult
instead of action.” Therefore, Okonkwo’s determination to regain power and save
his village from the colonizers is admirable and honorable, but because he is
committed to the extent that he will decapitate a colonizer while others submit
to change, Okonkwo is alone in his efforts, and his determination, while a
virtue, also leads him to his demise.
In every text we’ve read throughout the semester, our protagonists and
heroes have been flawed. However, because tragedy depicts humanity as mixed,
even a hero’s virtue can ultimately be considered a flaw, as its often
responsible for the hero’s collapse. Moreover, even in works such as
The Bacchae, in which characters
such as Pentheus seem purely villainous, considering their flaws in terms of
mixed characterization demonstrates that their faults may also be potentially
good. Pentheus is an obviously flawed character, as he makes an “error,” “misses
the mark,” and is guilty of hubris by disregarding the advice of Cadmus and
Tiresias and defying Dionysus, all of which leads to Pentheus’s horrific death.
However, although Pentheus is a very difficult character to like, his flaw in
overreacting to Dionysus can also be considered in terms of virtue because he’s
trying to prevent chaos and rebellion, or as Dr. White states, “positively he
may be trying to assert his control as new king of Thebes.” Therefore, just as
characters such as Oedipus and Okonkwo demonstrate that an impressive
characteristic, strength, or virtue can be a flaw, Pentheus shows that what may
seem an obvious flaw can also be recognized as a positive quality.
While the tragic flaw is a compelling aspect of tragedy and can be
rewarding to study, as it exemplifies the tragic nature of human existence, it’s
important to note that focusing on the tragic flaw can also be limiting. This is
because, as Aristotle states, “Nor, again, should the downfall of the utter
villain be exhibited,” and centering on a character’s tragic flaw is at the risk
of blaming him for the unmerited misfortune. As Dr. White notes, “If the tragic
narrative rises from a flaw or conflict in a character, the audience may be able
to objectify blame in that
character, which satisfies our simplest
moral sense,” but “the downside is that blaming someone else limits catharsis,
the feeling of pity and fear that is the main purpose of tragedy.” All things
considered, while the tragic flaw is a fascinating concept, too much attention
to a hero’s tragic flaw could potentially villainize him, and because “part of
the greatness of tragedy is that it resists simple answers about good and bad,”
using the tragic flaw to objectify blame essentially defeats the purpose of the
literary genre.
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